The Accidental Detective: Finding Her Boss

Chapter 37

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Everyone has their own unique traits, quirks, personalities, and mannerisms. Most times, we're aware of how we behave and all the things that make us stand out in a crowd, and sometimes we don't really see ourselves how others see us.

Being self aware meant that you were able to read a room and dial it down a bit, or acknowledge that your behaviour affected someone negatively and that you were at fault, or even in positive situations where you know you light up every room you walk into, or you know you're the smartest in the room.

But the fact of the matter was, we would truly never see ourselves the way other people see us, because we have our own biased opinions about ourselves and we're not on the receiving end of our own behaviours and characteristics, something that our loved ones or people who interact with us on a daily get to experience.

They most likely know our mannerisms, behaviours, and habits more than we do.

Which was why it was always so shocking to Loriatte every time she would get called stubborn.

She was not stubborn, at least she didn't think so.

Loriatte's hand shot out to grab the woman's wrist just as she sat down the tray of food on the bedside table.

"Help me, please?" Her teary eyes had the old woman giving her a somber helpless smile in return.

"I will come back for your afternoon shower," was the only thing out of her lips before she scurried out, the sound of the key jingling in the door as it locked after she shut it.

But maybe, maybe they were all right, maybe she was a little stubborn.

Because if she wasn't, she wouldn't have went against Zayden's words every time he would warn her against doing something, for her own good.

If she had listened to him and just followed him back to his office, she wouldn't have found herself where she was.

Loriatte sniffed, wiping away the tears as she sat up on the large king sized bed with crisp white sheets.

She picked up the tray filled to the brim with delicious food and placed it on her lap.

At least it looked like her captors had a five-star chef who kept her fed, and if there was one thing that would never leave her no matter what situation she was in- was her big fat appetite.

She looked around the large room she was being held in against her will.

The walls were painted a soft ivory, french molding traced the ceiling and antique sconces cast warm light over the tasteful furnishing- a carved walnut armoire, plush armchairs, and a fireplace that still glowed faintly from the embers of last night's fire.

If she didn't know any better, she'd think she'd woken up as a guest in a boutique hotel in Tuscany.

But of course, the cold bite of the ankle cuff locked around her right ankle, tethered by a braided steel cord to one leg of the massive bed frame reminded her where she really was.

It wasn't tight, whoever had placed it there clearly didn't want her injured, but it was enough to hold her in place and keep her from escaping.

The minutes and hours were a blur for her, she didn't know exactly how long she had been held captive for, but it must have been days. Heaven knows it felt way longer.

But for however long she was there, she had not once encountered the big boss or anyone worthy of demanding answers from.

From the time she regained consciousness- after being knocked out in the van for screaming her lungs out the entire ride- she had woken up in the room with the old lady taking care of the tiny slash on her forehead.