The room was beautiful.
It was spacious, simple and yet luxurious—it was the kind of bedroom a rich man would want his daughter to have. It had a queen-sized canopy bed on the right next to the door, an oval coffe table with two couches on the left side of the door, a beautiful vanity table opposite the bed and a sliding door leading to the balcony opposite the entrance door. On the adjacent right was a set of open double doors that revealed a walk-in closet and on the adjacent left was a door that opened to the bathroom.
Everything in the room was in hues of off-whites, cream, dark browns and soft grey's. Walking into the en-suite bathroom revealed it to be just as luxurious. On the left was a toilet closed off by blurred glass, opposite that on the far left corner sat a large oval bathtub, on the far right corner was shower surrounded by clear glass and lastly, on the right below the small window was the sink that had a cupboard underneath. Between the bathtub and the toilet was a waist-high closet that revealed a laundry basket inside and had a drawer that had bathing salts, gels etc.
All in all the bedroom was beautiful but the cost of having it all was too high, if I were given a choice I would have chosen my crappy apartment back home.
Right, home, the place filled with memories of the people who had put me here, the people I had thought my family. I had not thought much about them since the day I woke up on a foreign bet after they had literally sold me and every time thoughts of them revealed themselves, I would choose to block them out and do something to distract myself.
That was why I stood at the bathroom debating whether or not I should ask my body on the bathtub but the knowledge that I was in a house belonging to a family of criminals who weren't disinclined to do whatever they pleased made me take a quick shower instead.
After I was done, I padded over to the walk in closet filled with clothes of all kinds in my size, pulled out a fresh pair of underclothes, sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Though the bed looked inviting, I opted for the small couch instead, where I sat staring into nothing for so long that I eventually fell asleep.
When I woke up the first two things I noticed both shocked and disturbed, though the second caused a knot of fear to form in my stomach. The first thing I noticed was that it was dark outside—they had let me sleep for the entire day—and the second and most disturbing thing I noticed was that I was no longer on the small couch but tucked under the bed's cream comforter.
The matter of my having slept for nearly ten hours barely registered in my mind as I realized that I—a light sleeper—had not felt someone picking me up and putting me under the covers.
For a few seconds I was unable to move, the knowledge that I had been completely at the mercy of one of my kidnappers without even knowing it made paralyzing fear spread through my body, forcing my lungs to constrict and my mind go numb.
The next second I was rushing to the bathroom with the urge to empty the contents of my stomach but when I reached the toilet, nothing came out, I only heaved for a while with tears ending up escaping my eyes. I sat there on the cold tiled floor shivers and shudders racking through my body as silent tears fell from my eyes.
The cold truth of my utter powerlessness made my heart grow heavy with despair as thoughts of what could have been done to me plagued my mind. Somehow at some point I gathered enough strength to stand and go to the sink to wash my face and brush my teeth.
Just as I finished drying my face a knock sounded from the door startling me. I paused thinking about ignoring whoever was at the door but that thought disappeared from my mind just as it had appeared when my stomach growled informing me of it’s needs. The second rap on the door made me exit the bathroom hastily my heart beating like a drum as I set my hand on the cool silver knob handle and slid open the door.
Behind the door—just as promised—one of the triplets stood with all his mafia glory wearing a navy blue polo t-shirt with jeans, spotting a facial expression that told me he would rather be anywhere else. I stood there frozen under his uncaring gaze and watched as his lips curved down in a scowl.
“You’re awake. Good, I would have hated to wake you up.” There was no greeting and though the words on their own could appear sweet or endearing, there was no such emotion in his eyes and voice, it was simply a fact. I stood there my mind blank not providing anything to say but somehow my mouth did not need help because I spoke.
“Yes I just woke up.” Though, I realized that those did not count much for words, they were better than silence. Mario’s hazel blue eyes travelled up and down my figure his scowl deepening before he returned his eyes to mine.
“Go get dressed in something less… this. I’ll wait here.” He said and closed the door before I could reply. I stared at the door perplexed and looked down at my body and unable to find anything wrong with what I was wearing, I decided to just do as he said because I found I did not have the energy to ask questions or argue.
The feeling of the cold tiles under my bare feet served as a momentary distraction as I walked across the room to the walk in closet. When I opened the two doors leading to the walk in closet I paused, staring at the clothes that ranged from casual, to sporty and formal. There was too much of everything. It was every girls dream closet but—i thought to myself again—the cost of getting it was one I wasn’t happy with. I snapped out of my thoughts when Mario’s words floated back into my ears as if an echo and I grabbed a random high waisted faded jeans and a white golf t-shirt that I adorned over a vest.
After changing the sweat pants for the jeans I put on a pair of black pumps and exited the closet. While walking to the door I caught a glimpse of my reflection on the mirror and though the simple outfit complemented my plump and curvy body the look in my brown eyes told of the fear and despair that plagued my heart.
Mario Valastro’s hazel eyes with blue hues remained uncaring not changing in expression as they travelled down my body assessing my clothes. Because I did not know why he wanted me to change nor did I know what was suitable I had decided to wear something similar to what he was wearing and if he noticed this he did not show it.
He looked into my eyes as if searching for something and though his eyes revealed none of his thought, they unnerved me just as much as his older brother's, if not more.
YOU ARE READING
Rooted from Betrayal
ActionI would have had a normal life, with mundane problems and simple joys. I would have started practicing as a general doctor by the age of 24 with intentions of specializing and later becoming a neurosurgeon. I would have lived a normal life far from...
