The Black Dahlia (Cartel Series #1) ✔️

65. Longing in silence

Gabriella

Is this what hell feels like?

As I peered through the window, the soft glow of dawn illuminated the landscape, its ethereal light casting a serene ambiance. Yet, despite the picturesque morning unfolding before me, my heart remained burdened with a weight I couldn't shake. The warmth of the sun's rays only served to highlight the chill within me, as feelings of sadness and guilt intertwined, clouding my thoughts and dampening the beauty of the moment.

Last night I wasn't able to sleep again. I feel like sleep has become a luxury for me that I can't afford. 

It had been three interminable days since my return home, or rather, since I was spirited away by the very hands of my own flesh and blood.

A wry chuckle escaped my lips at the absurdity of it all. Kidnapped by my own brother—it was the stuff of melodramatic fiction, the kind of twist one might expect in a poorly written thriller. Yet, here I was, living out a plotline stranger than fiction, where enemies were replaced by kin, and betrayal lurked within the very heart of my family.

I can't believe that the person who couldn't bear to see a tear in my eyes is now the reason for my pain.

I begged him. I pleaded with him. But still, he forcefully brought me here without letting me see Alejandro for the last time.

As tears welled in my eyes, memories of Alejandro flooded my mind, each one a painful reminder of the anguish he must be enduring. Betrayal weighed heavily on my conscience, knowing that his suffering was a consequence of my actions. The thought of him lying in a hospital bed, alone and in pain, tore at my heartstrings, leaving me consumed by a profound sense of guilt and regret.

How could I have let things unravel to this extent? Alejandro deserved better than the chaos I had unwittingly unleashed upon his life. With each tear that traced a path down my cheek, I silently begged for forgiveness, knowing that my words could never bridge the chasm of hurt that now lay between us.

Whenever I think about Alejandro all I feel is immense pain and sadness. I feel like taking my own life for been so weak. Now I know the pain of separation. Why people commit suicide when they are separated by there partner? I used to think they are so weak and pathetic but now I understand there pain.

As the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the silence, I hastily brushed away the tears that lingered on my cheeks, willing myself to regain composure. With a deep breath, I straightened my posture, crossing my legs in a poised gesture, steeling myself for the intrusion into my private sanctuary.

As the maids entered my room with their familiar routine, setting the tray of dishes before me.

"Ma'am, it's time for your medicine." It has become a routine now. Every day, the maid comes with food and medicine, and I refuse to eat anything.

As I glanced at the maid, her head bowed in deference, a sudden surge of frustration coursed through me. With a swift, almost reckless movement of my hand, I sent the tray laden with dishes and my medicine crashing to the floor. The room erupted in a cacophony of shattering glass and splintering porcelain as the tray collided with the ground. Food scattered in all directions, creating a chaotic tableau that mirrored the tumult within me. Yet, amidst the wreckage, there was a strange sense of liberation—a perverse delight in the chaos I had wrought.

It's a disaster, and I simply loved it.

As the maid recoiled in shock, her eyes wide with surprise, I couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction at the havoc I had wrought.

"LEAVE!!" I roared.

As the maid scurried out of the room, her departure marking the familiar prelude to my daily ritual, I settled into the well-worn pattern of my routine. With practiced ease, I hurled my frustrations into the room, watching as chaos erupted in my wake. It was a dance of defiance and control, a symphony of anger and indifference.