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THE HIGH WAS GONE AS SOON AS IT CAME
Venus Meyers is a regular college student. Living with her boyfriend up until she finds out he's a serial cheater. After losing her job and her graduation getti...
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I feel bright light shining down on me, hurting my eyes even as they're closed.
Peeling my eyes open, I squint, trying to make out where I am.
Panic grips my chest, as I jolt upright, realizing that this isn't my apartment. Not even close.
This place is large, with high ceilings. Screams wealth. I'm in a bedroom. If you can even call it that. It's larger than my whole apartment.
I turn towards the windows and notice the view.
It's all green and blue. A countryside.
Okay, what the fuck?
I can feel my chest tightening with each breath I take, each time getting harder.
Have I been kidnapped? Am I gonna be sold into sex slavery? Please, no. I won't last a day.
Questions swirl in my brain. Not thinking rationally.
After a few minutes, the rational side of me awakes. I realize that if I was kidnapped, I wouldn't have been left alone in a room with open windows. I wasn't even handcuffed.
After all those realizations, I'm still not calm. I'm in an unknown place.
I look around, trying to find my stuff, but I come up empty.
My dress is gone, only a large t-shirt is covering my bare body.
A surge of panic strikes me. My hands scramble to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up, and checking my underwear.
I sag in relief.
I don't feel sore either, which means I didn't sleep with anyone.
Walking out of the room, I notice how extravagant this house–more like a mansion–is. It's like a mansion straight out of France.
The wood creaking beneath my feet produces a rich sound.
Goddamit, where the hell am I?
I hear some sound coming from somewhere in the house. I follow the sound, and soon, I come into the kitchen.
And someone is cooking at the stove. Shirtless.
Alexandre.
Of course, he's fucking behind this.
I watch his back muscles move and ripple as he moves. The tattoos gracing his skin make him all the more desirable.
No. Stop it. Bad Venus.
You're still mad at him.
"Ahm," I clear my throat to make my presence known.
"I see you finally woke up," he says, not even turning around. It irritates me all the more.
"What am I doing here?" I ask, folding my arms. And, finally, he turns around. That stupid smirk playing on his lips.
"Standing," his smartass reply adds to the pool of irritation inside me, it's close to spilling over. "Sit," he gestures with the pan in his hand.
