Canavas of chaos

Chapter 12 -

Elara POV
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I sat alone in the room, trying to steady my breathing. Maybe the alcohol had affected me more than I realized, but my anger was overwhelming. I couldn't believe how everything had spiraled out of control.

I didn't know whether to keep fighting against this situation or to try and escape. But the thought of running was futile. Andres would find me, and I had no doubt he wouldn't hesitate to deal with me if I tried to run.

I decided to just go along with what he wanted. It might even work out in my favor-by playing along, I could build connections that would help me achieve my dream once I finally got out of this mess.

After a few minutes of restless thoughts and futile attempts to free my wrists, the exhaustion took over. I rested my head against the head of the bed, the soft surface offering a fleeting comfort. As the weariness pulled me under, I could no longer fight it. My eyes grew heavy, and despite the discomfort and fear gnawing at me, sleep slowly claimed me.

When I woke, I sensed someone approaching. My heart raced, but it was only Alex. I felt a bit relieved as he looked at me, then leaned down to remove the handcuffs.

Alex removed the handcuffs, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. He straightened up and looked at me, saying, "Just stop being stubborn. This attitude won't get you anywhere." His voice was firm, but there was a hint of exasperation as he added, "You're only making things harder for yourself."

As I realized I was still stuck in this hell of a room, a wave of despair hit me, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I tried to hold them back, but the fear and frustration overwhelmed me, and a few tears escaped despite my efforts to stay composed.

Alex's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of me with tears streaming down my face. His eyebrows arched up in disbelief, and he blinked a few times before managing to ask, "Are you crying?" His tone carried a mix of astonishment and uncertainty.

No shit sherlock.

I tried to stop the tears, but my heart felt like it was being crushed, and I couldn't catch my breath. Exhausted, I leaned into Alex's chest, hoping to find some comfort.

He tensed immediately, going rigid as if he'd just been hit by a jolt of electricity. He remained still, unsure of how to respond.

Despite his stiff posture, I found myself crying even harder, fisting his shirt in my hand.

To my surprise, I felt Alex's hand move and tentatively pat my back. He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable but trying to offer some semblance of comfort. I sobbed into his chest, my voice choked with emotion as I asked " Why is he doing this to me?" ,"I'm not supposed to be here," I cried out, "I have a life to live!"

Alex remained stiff, his body rigid and unmoving, as if he were bracing himself against a gust of wind. He didn't respond to my outburst. His hand continued to pat my back, each motion slow and unsure, as if he were navigating unfamiliar territory.

I finally managed to calm down, pulling back from Alex and wiping away my tears. My eyes were red, and my nose was a bit runny. Alex looked at me with a mix of exasperation and bewilderment, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"Are you done now?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light but failing to hide his awkwardness. He looked at me like I'd just given him a crash course in emotional handling. His attempt at nonchalance made it clear he wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation.

I looked up at Alex, attempting a weak smile through my sniffles. "Thanks for the emotional support. I didn't realize you had a hidden talent for comforting people."

Alex rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Yeah, well, I've always said I'd make a great therapist. Clearly, I missed my calling."

I chuckled softly, despite myself. "Guess I'm lucky to have such a skilled therapist."

He smirked, folding his arms. "Just don't make a habit of it. I have better things to do than listen to your sob stories."

Alex's gaze was stern, but his mouth quirked into a sardonic smile as he said, "Alright, now get your ass to the bathroom and change. You look like shit."

He raised an eyebrow and added, "The boss wants everyone down for breakfast, including you. He's got something he wants to discuss."

I scowled, still wiping my eyes. "Seriously? I'm supposed to sit at the same table as him?"

Alex shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, you have no choice."

He crossed his arms, his tone firm yet edged with a hint of sarcasm. "But if you decide to keep up this attitude, the boss won't be too thrilled."

Fuck the boss.

As I walked into the dining room, I was struck by its opulence. The room was flooded with morning light, illuminating the polished mahogany table that stretched across the space.

White linens draped elegantly over the table, which was set with gleaming silverware and crystal glasses that sparkled in the light. An impressive array of breakfast foods-fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and more-was laid out on a lavish buffet.

The walls were adorned with tasteful artwork, and large windows offered a view of the meticulously manicured garden outside. The whole setting exuded a blend of luxury and formality, making it clear that today's breakfast was more than just a meal-it was part of a significant discussion.

Andres was still absent, leaving the chair at the head of the table empty. Alex gestured toward the chair beside the burly guy sitting closest to the empty seat on Andres' left. I slid into the seat between him and Alex, who took his place to my left.

I nudged the guy next to me with my finger, making sure to catch his attention. With a sarcastic smile, I said, "Thanks for bringing me to this wonderful mansion. I'm really living my best life here."

He turned his head slowly, his expression hardening into a steely glare. His eyes locked onto mine, and he spoke in a low, dangerous growl, "Keep it up and you'll find out just how unpleasant this place can get. You better shut up."

The threat in his voice silenced me instantly, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

Alex leaned closer, his voice a low, warning whisper. "Why don't you keep your tongue inside your mouth?" he asked, his tone laced with irritation.

I pouted playfully, not missing the chance to show some attitude. "Why? I thought I was being charming."

Alex just rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by my defiance. His expression remained stern, but there was a hint of exasperation in his eyes as he looked away.

The room stilled when Andres entered the room, exuding charisma. He wore a sharply tailored dark suit, a crisp white shirt, and a silk tie. His polished black shoes and impeccably styled dark hair completed his commanding presence. His gaze was cold and intense, sweeping the room with a sense of authority.

__________

A/N

Next chapter will be sequel for this one.