MAGIC|18+

Chapter 30

Charlotte's POV 

I stayed in my bed all night and practically all day, I've not had the energy to speak with anyone. After hearing that Magic may be the main reason for me being kidnapped in the first place and taken away from my home hurts deep in my chest, the more I think about it the more it hurts and the worst thing is, I cant stop thinking about it. Magic has sent people up with food every now and then, I haven't been able to eat much but I try my best. I can't wrap my head around that if Magic is the reason then why hasn't he done anything to me, he has kept me in a cell but he hasn't been violent like the other men I've heard about. 

A light knock sounds my door, my eyes don't move from the ceiling, "Charlotte", I hear Isabelle's voice. 

I look her way as she walks into my room, "Sorry to disturb", she softly smiles as if she can see my distress, "Magic would like you downstairs"

"Can you tell him I want to stay in bed, please", my eyes begging. 

"I'm sorry but he made it clear that there were no exceptions", I nod slowly and begin to climb out the bed for the first time other than going to the toilet, "He wants to see you in his office", I nod again. "I'm sorry, Charlotte", she says again like it's her fault. 

"Don't apologise", I force a smile. 

I head downstairs, down the hall towards Magic's office door. I reach for the handle but stop, I lift my fist up and knock lightly, "Come in", I hear his voice. 

I reach for the handle and enter, without making eye contact with him I sit on the chair and curl my legs up. I feel his eyes on me but I can't bring myself to look at him, "Are you ready to talk now?", I shake my head, "Tough", he leans forward placing his elbow on the desk. "What happened?"

I look up meeting his strong gaze, he looks beyond angry and fed up maybe even drunk and the empty bourbon bottle confirms that he is. "Nothing at all", I quietly speak. 

"Bullshit!", he spits, "Where's my Charlotte? she'd be giving me attitude right now for sipping alcohol, she'd call me an arsehole", his awful attempt of a Scottish accent comes out. "You haven't spoke in twenty-four hours and usually you're getting on my nerve just about the second I see you so I'll ask again, what happened?"

I shrug, "Vlad's men got me", I make a little to no effort to make eye contact. My voice sounds tone deaf, no pitch, no excitement, no emotion at all.  

"Then what? Did they touch you? Did they give you those nasty bruises?" 

"Why do you care?", I finally look up at him. His head tilts in confusion like it did before, his eyes searching mine like he's trying to figure out what happened instead of me telling him. 

"Why wouldn't I care?", his eyes narrow. 

"Why would you?"

He runs his hand across the stubble on his chin almost irritated by my words, "Because I do...", he scrambles to find the words. 

"Magic, who even are you?", His eyes stay on mine, like his head is swirling to find the right words to say but I clearly know the answer. 

"Who do you see?", his voice soft for the first time ever, the softest I've ever heard it. 

I feel my chin tremble, "I see a criminal...", I look away, "A liar, you never tell the truth, I don't know you at all. I thought I was beginning to know you, I thought I was safe around you but I was wrong, I don't know you at all...not even a little bit and I definitely don't feel safe around you anymore", it's silent for a beat, "Tell me I'm wrong", I look back into his eyes. His eyes clouding with something I've never seen before. Silence continues to bounce off the walls as we look at each other, "I'm not wrong am I?"