Chapter 40: Erotically Charged

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Warning: This chapter contains mature scenes. Please read at your own risk.



I just wrapped my body with a towel and anxiously shuffled out of the washroom. My damp hair clung to my exposed skin on my shoulder and neck like callous hands, grasping whatever surface it lands on.

I felt refreshed.

I didn't find Isaias in the room.

I stared at the double door for a few seconds, listening intently through the door, perhaps his footsteps, but I heard nothing.

I shook my head as I turned towards the bed, and while doing so, my mind unconsciously drifted to the past events.

Everything happened for the past hours rushed back to me. The kidnapping, the shooting, and then Martino.

The thought of him waiting for me on the tarmac in New York suddenly cleared out all those pieces of awful thoughts clogging my mind.


I need to let him know that I was taken by force and landed here in Italy.

And then something flickered in my head.

What if Martino was behind all of this?

That was unlikely. He wouldn't have had bothered to see me and offered me the job. He could have just kidnap me.

I sighed, feeling hopeless.

"Treat everyone as an enemy." My father's words echoed in the back of my head. Words I accidentally overheard.

I perched on the edge of the soft mattress, then dropped my back on the bed.

Mixed feelings rushed through me.

I missed mom and dad.

Is dad still controlling mom wherever they are?

He had been the whole time, especially when it comes to me. But, even if he's the most controlling man I ever know, I know he did it only to protect us.

I understand because he lost his family: his parents and sister. They were killed before his eyes. For some reason, they spared his life, but not the people who motivated him to live until he had us.

A sniper that until he died, he didn't know who it was, and who sent him to kill his family while they were celebrating with friends, in his friend's backyard.

My wandering thoughts was cut through from the opening of the door. A faint creaking sound but it felt loud in my ears.

I shot upright and watched the door opening slowly. My hand clutching the towel tightly against my chest. The imposing figure walked in, his face cold and sinister. You could literally break a stone with his tight jaws, his frosty eyes reminded me of the dead in that holocaust, terrifying.

Isaias strode in with clothes in his hands. He stopped when his gaze met mine, his face instantly relaxed.

Turning to face the door, he closed it behind him before narrowing our gap.

His dead eyes lit up when he met my eyes, yet again, his tight shoulders relaxed. His upper lip on the corner tugged up into a crooked smile.

"I've got you something to change, si?" he drawled as he placed the variety of clothes on the bed next to where I am perched upright, on the edge of the large bed like a bird on a tree trunk, watchful of its predator. My hand dropped to the bed, I didn't bother looking at the clothes, my eyes glued to him.

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