When The Sun Starts Rising ✓

09

A ping from my phone wakes me up from my deep slumber.

Lucero : Dinner.

I roll my eyes and shut the phone off. He's an asshole.

I get out of bed and get ready for the dinner I'm not having.

After I'm done taking a bath, I go down toward the dining table. Sitting in the far corner far away from Lucero.

He eyes me as if to say I dare you, but I don't care. There's no such rule that says I have to sit next to him every time.

I make sure he's looking at me when I put my hand on my cheek and give him the bird.

From the corner of my eye, I see his eyes glinting and he gives me a smirk.

I face the other way and start making small talk with the man sitting beside me.

Halfway through our conversation, Lucero clears his throat loudly and says with that booming voice of his, "Anyone who talks to Cara is dead in the next three seconds." right after he says that everyone bows down and the man beside me stops talking to me.

I scrunch my eyebrows and look at the man sitting at the head of the table, smiling in victory. I make sure to ignore him and stop talking as well.

I look down at the plate in front of me and the food starts coming out as the chef walks in with his assistant who walks behind him as well as more maids following behind.

"Today's special is.." As the chef explains what the food in front of us is, I look up to see one of the men smiling softly at me. I smile back and look down at my plate as I feel my face getting red.

I clear my throat as the chef finishes talking.

I don't bother to pick up any of my cutlery as I didn't have any intention to eat anything in the first place.

I face my right, ignoring his deadly stare and instead look at Rhys who looks at me from the corner of his eyes giving me a sorry look.

"Is it not to your liking Miss Sánchez?" Lucero sounds out in his loud yet calm voice.

I don't look at him and continue ignoring him until..

The sound of the chair scraping the floor and in a second I feel hand gripping my throat from behind urging my face to look up toward the villain in my story.

"I ask you a question, Cara." He whispers dangerously close to my ear.

I gulp down the saliva collecting in my mouth and blink once, twice and then answer him. "I don't have an appetite." I hold my breath as I feel his hand clasping harder into my now closed up throat.

My hands come up to grab his to pry it away but he doesn't budge. I need oxygen is what I want to yell, but I can't sound anything out as he squeezes harder and harder till my face goes red, blue, green, I don't even know what color my face has become.

A lone tear escapes my eye, betraying me. I don't want to be seen as weak in front of anyone especially in front of men like him.

Why can't I stop tearing up?

I don't dare say anything thinking he would make it worse. But as I near my last limit of consciousness he stops it all and whispers two last words. "Then eat."

He then goes back to his seat and continues eating like everyone else who seems to be ignoring what just happened.

I put the whole thing in my mouth in five seconds and I'm done. I feel it all coming back up but swallow it down harshly.

I want to puke.

They sure are taking their time to eat one tiny meal, I can't get up until they're done. Especially that guy sitting at the head of the table, if he's not done, neither are we.

I look at him discretely but it seems he's been staring at me the whole time. His plate still has half of what the meal is and I grunt lowly.

He's taking too long.

When he's done and gets up, I too get up as quick as possible and run into the nearest bathroom and vomit it all out.

Fuck, that was the worse thing I've eaten. It's like eating raw meat.

My eyes sting as I vomit all of the content inside my stomach. I sit at the floor next to the door and put my head against the wall. "that fucking hurts." I whisper to no one at all.

I look up at the ceiling and then suddenly somebody is banging at the door.

"Cara!" I get up and open the door slowly.

"What?" I lazily look up at his eyes boring into me.

"Did you puke it out." It's more of a statement than a question, I don't even have to answer him.

He pulls me out of the bathroom and into his room?

What is he trying to do?

His room is very spacious. He goes into the closet and walks out with a bunch of ropes and more tools I can't comprehend the use of.

My eyes go wide as he nears me and pulls me into the corner of the room, he locks my hands with handcuffs and bound my feet with ropes. He does everything harshly and lastly he puts cloth in my mouth, yanking my hair up to look at him.

"I told you to listen to me." He lets go of my hair. I squirm under his gaze and he gets out of the room.

What? Do I just stay here?

I try to scream with the cloth in my mouth and fail miserably.

He comes back with a plate of food from before and walks towards me.

I want to scream no. I want to say please stop. Stop!

He squats down in front of me and squeezes my cheeks together as he forces the food down my throat. I cough loudly and try to throw it back out, but before I have the chance he force another spoon and another and another.

I cry as hard as I can and pray for it to be over. Partly because I want to strangle him after.

He looks at me with cold dead eyes and says, "next time you think about wasting food like that, I'll make you eat a whole basket of it."

I know he meant that as a threat. I'm fucked. I really want to throw up again.

"Stop!" I scream as tears slide down my cheeks uncontrollably. "Please!" I scream louder and close my eyes as I see another spoon coming my way.

Lucero stops and grabs my face in his hand. He looks at me with a look I can't decipher and wipes the tears with his thumb. Then, he caresses my hair like a loving person would do. Next thing he does is stand up from his squatting position and leaves me there alone to cry in the corner of his bedroom with my limbs all bound by tools as he's off to go who knows where and do who knows what.