Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Seventy One

Bianca

I awoke to the unsettling sight of a strange man hovering by my bedside, his hands deftly fastening a familiar cuff around my arm. Although his face was unfamiliar, something in his gaze—an intense warmth and deep concern—made my heart race, as if he genuinely cared for my well-being.

Instinctively, I recoiled into the embrace of the plush pillows, desperately putting distance between us. "Shh," he whispered softly, urging me to remain still. His voice was smooth and calming, like a gentle lullaby.

"It's okay, Ms. Rossi. I'm just checking your blood pressure. You can go right back to sleep," he said, an air of ease in his tone that resonated with a sense of déjà vu.

"Who are you?" I mumbled, still tethered to the remnants of sleep, my mind foggy and slow.

"Dr. Phillip Agar," he replied, a warm smile spreading across his face, crinkling the corners of his kind eyes. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Again?" I echoed, confusion knitting my brow.

"I treated you a few years ago before you left us," he nodded reassuringly. "Rest now, it's only two a.m."

As I blinked rapidly, trying to piece together the fragments of his words, he continued to monitor the cuff with an air of practised professionalism. The soft beeping of the machine punctuated the stillness of the night.

Sleep slipped away from me like sand through my fingers when he departed, leaving me alone in the shadows of an unfamiliar room. The darkness swirled around me, wrapping my mind in a veil of unease as I glanced anxiously at my surroundings. However, the gentle stir of Benji on the floor brought a flicker of reassurance; his presence was a beacon in the gloom. As I watched him, the oppressive darkness shifted from a source of fear to a soft, enveloping presence, drawing me into its embrace and lulling me into a dreamy slumber.

"You're so pretty," I say, admiring the tall woman with flowing brown hair that cascades down her back like a waterfall. She doesn't respond, but a quiet allure surrounds her as I gently guide her to the table where Emma and I are hosting our little tea party. I help her settle into the chair meant for Teddy, my beloved stuffed bear, before presenting her with a delicate teacup. I offer her a biscuit, my heart fluttering as she gazes at me with wide, shimmering eyes.

Something joyful stirs within me, prompting me to climb onto her lap. My grin extends from ear to ear as she softly moves a lock of hair from my face. We immerse ourselves in the magic of our tea party, pouring imaginary tea and sharing brushes as the afternoon fades into a golden hue. I catch a glimpse of Papa standing in the doorway. His warm smile fades slightly as he takes in the scene before him, making me nervous.

"It's time to go, Lorelei," he calls gently, his voice echoing in the quiet room. The lady leans down and tenderly kisses my forehead before she slips away as silently as she arrived, leaving behind a lingering sweetness in the air.

Emma and I continue the playful charade of our tea party, but I feel a heaviness in my heart at the absence of the enchanting lady who had briefly filled our world with magic.

A sharp, blinding light slices through the haze, rousing me from slumber and causing a low groan to escape my lips as I bury my face deeper into the soft folds of the duvet. The warmth of the bed feels comforting, yet the brightness is unrelenting, prompting me to shield my eyes with a hesitant hand.

"Don Densel has requested you in his office," a melodic yet firm voice cuts through the stillness, pulling my gaze toward the door. Standing there is a young girl, scarcely older than twelve or thirteen, dressed in a neatly pressed black pinafore and a crisp white shirt. Her bare feet quietly slip against the tile floor. The innocence of her youth contrasts sharply with the seriousness of her task.