Chapter 3
Lola gapes for a moment lost as to what to do to. She glances around the lavish open plan room wondering what to do. In a flash, she refuses to follow Carlos. Besides, she has more pressing matters. Food. She places her bag of stuff, they’d taken from her own room onto one of the breakfast bar stools as she searches around the cupboards and fridge.
Strangely enough, it’s stocked really well and of actual healthy food. Ergh. She’s pretty sure there’s not even one candy bar stored there or a bag of chips-how does anyone live like that?! Lola tries as best she can to get her veg and fruit but…candy. Candy is her special treat to herself. Looks like Carlos is even taking that away from her.
Still, with a sigh, Lola takes out the ham, bread and butter; debating whether to make him one as well.
Her natural instinct would be to-because well, she may as well since she’s making one for herself. But this is Carlos. And she doesn’t owe Carlos anything.
She’s taking her first bite, when he strolls back into her view. But having ditched his stuffy suit…for a pair of sweats and a plain grey t-shirt. Suddenly, the mouthful of bread and ham goes dry and she has to swallow the dry mass-hard. Undeniably, he looks good. But naturally beautiful people are like that. They have that annoying nack for looking great in any look. But Carlos…Carlos and suits are just…
“I was hungry,” she explains herself unnecessarily taking another bite.
He simply nods-not the reaction she was expecting.
She wearily watches as he strides around her and from a container in the fridge takes out a pre-made tuna salad. Digging into it with a fork, he seats himself in the free stool.
“Why am I here, Carlos?” she asks breaking their silence.
“Where would you rather I take you, Miss Beaumont?”
She rolls her eyes, “oh I don’t know? Don’t you mob bosses have some secret underground dungeon or…or like some seedy strip club or…”
A bemused smile flitters at his luscious lips before he shakes his head.
“I’m afraid I don’t own any of those…establishments, but if you wish to visit-”
Lola blushes profusely at that. Is he seriously teasing her?
Dear God, do sweats have some magical power on his up-tightness or something?
“No but this is like…your home.”
He raises an eyebrow at that before answering evenly, “that’s because it is.”
“Finish up. I’ll show you your room.”
End of conversion, then.
She leaves the plate in the sink and picks up her things before following him down the narrow hallway. There are 2 doors either side and one straight down the end.
Opening the one of the side doors, he steps inside as does she. Like with everything that Carlos has done so far, he surprises her. It’s not some hovel with straw for bedding. Instead there’s actually a proper double bed in the room. A luxurious double bed to be more precise and for Lola it looks like heaven. Her whole life, she’s had the same springy second hand single cot but now…Holy shit and the room! Sturdy, polished wooden furnishings; a plush, soft carpet; and a vanity built for a princess.
“Is this a joke? This is my room?” breathes Lola staring at the man with wide eyes.
He glances around passively before giving a curt nod.
“For now. The bathroom is through there,” he informs her pointing towards another door.
Lola’s eyes go even wider. Is he for real? She has her own freaking bathroom now? What the hell happened to being a prisoner?! This is like…freaking royalty.
A sudden stroke of realisation quickly flashes through her at the thought of royalty.
“So…am I like…your mistress?”
All the showering of nice things-he surely wants something in return. No one does anything without wanting something in return-whether it’s consciously or subconsciously.
“Perhaps.”
“Is that a yes or a no?” she demands. Why the hell can he not give her a straight answer? He’s the one who’s done this to her, the one who brought her here, stuck his freaking body in her. And now?! Now, he doesn’t know what she even is to him?!
“It is neither, Miss Beaumont. You will be what I need you to be, what I want you to be. You have 10 minutes to settle in and then there are ground rules we need to discuss. I shall be waiting in the lounge.”
Lola says nothing and allows her bag to drop as he gently shuts the door behind him. She glances around the place, more critically this time before heading over to the furniture. The drawers are first to be flung open. Understandably they’re empty, just like much of the drawers and closet. With a sigh, Lola tips over the bag onto the bed sceptical as to its contents. They better not have gone through her personal belongings. But then again….what the hell will she do if they haven’t taken her undergarments. She damn well refuses Carlos’s ‘no underwear’ crap, no matter what sort of power-play he does.
Tipping the bag over onto the bed, its contents fall out in a big jumbled pile and Lola’s left to sort out the crinkled mess of clothes.
Thankfully, there are some bras and panties in there, to which she in only grateful; as well as her limited number of jeans, tops, skirts and socks. And nothing else.
Where’s her hairbrush? Her toothbrush? Her sanitary towels? The essentials! Nevermind the luxuries like more than one pair of shoes and make-up. Although, why on Earth would she wear make-up for him? But it would have been nice. It is the least he could do.
Regardless, she places away the clothes, separating those that will need ironing for a later date to do.
The task is completed relatively quickly and considering the minimal amount of items, it is no surprise.
As she’s about to subject herself to Carlos’s no doubt further demands, she realises she has yet to explore the her own bathroom. Butterflies of excitement flutter against her stomach as she slowly peers around the widening door. She cannot help but gasp at the heavenly vision before her. There’s actually a bathtub in there. And not some tired, uncomfortable looking one but a beautiful, sparkling white, stand alone. Her muscles ache with desire to sink into its comfort once brimming with scalding hot water and frothing with abundant divine-scented bubbles.
As if the bathtub isn’t enough, there’s even a shower of far greater seeming soothing than she’s ever been used to. Even in the hotel rooms she’s previously stayed in once or twice, haven’t had such welcoming units and the one at home certainly wasn’t welcoming. In fact, it was so unreliable that using it past 15 minutes would sometimes cause it to leak below into the downstairs office but 10 minutes prior to that and the water turns from hot to lukewarm.
But after a long shift, it did the job and relaxed Lola completely.
Making her way further inside, she’s drawn to the countertop of the sink, where various arrays of liquids are arranged. It’s all butters and creams and hair product-of highest quality of course. What more would one expect from a mob boss? She dares hope its for her use. To lather her hair in the vanilla cream conditioner would be a real treat for sure. At least, compared to her discount shop one.
Below that in the cupboards underneath, are things that has Lola breathing in relief as well as turning red. Why one Earth he thinks one woman needs so many sanitary items is beyond her. But as she reads the labels she soon realises they’re all different. There’s towels and tampons of all sorts of variety; winged, without wings, extra wide, easy fit, and so on; the thought of Carlos though with it all in a shopping cart just has Lola in a fit of giggles. That would be a site she would pay to see!
Controlling herself she fishes around to find a set of packaged toothbrushes and also razors. Something which she hadn’t even thought about but knowing the growth rate of her hairs, she’s glad for them.
“Miss Beumont, I’m waiting!”
Lola jumps at the sound of his booming voice. She fights back her blush as she makes her way casually towards him in the open plan living room. Even the way he sits is straight and rigid-just like everything else he does.
She takes a seat in the opposite couch, allowing the glass coffee table to act as a barrier between them.
“I trust everything is sufficient?” he politely asks.
Lola sighs, “I would rather have my own things.”
“I’m sure you would,” he muses before waving it off and moving on, “there are some ground rules.”
“Of course there are. Let me guess; don’t speak, don’t move, don’t breathe,” she sarcastically drawls. He can damn well spout his nonsense and waste his breath because there is no way in hell that she’s staying here willingly, following his stupid house rules.
Carlos simply choses to ignore her insolence, it has been so long since someone has got this badly on his nerves-still it is good exercise for his patience.
“Staying here entails you earning your keep. I expect the place kept clean and tidy. I think it’s only fair as well you cook dinner-”
Lola snorts at that. What is she? Some 1980s wife?! Would he also like her to greet him after work with her make-up and hair done, wearing an apron and a fake, cheery smile?!
“If you have difficulty cooking Miss Beumont, there are several recipe books-”
“I know how to cook! I just don’t want to cook for you!” she snaps back.
He can insult her appearance, her lack of charm, her defensive personality all he wants. But how dare he insult her culinary skills?! She grew up watching her Papa cook and to him food is the Bible.
“Strange how you find yourself in this situation in which you will have to do exactly that,” he sardonically states, “My room and my study will be locked and you may not enter without my permission. You may roam free here but you will not be allowed to leave, however if you wish, I can provide you with a laptop but bear in mind, certain sites will be blocked. You may also watch TV-of course, there is Netflix available”
Lola gapes at him. She can’t even leave the house now? She feels a tightening of her chest as she realises that he’s just going to keep her prisoner in this damned place so far and high in the sky that there’s no chance of escape. No matter how comfortable the jailer makes the cell-it is still a cell.
“That is all, Miss Beaumont,” he states rising to his feet.
Lola scrambles to her own, attempting to catch up with the man.
He strides towards the door straight down the hallway and before he enters she tugs him back by his forearm.
“Carlos, you can’t be serious? You’re just going to lock me up in this house all day?! What-How-“
She breaks off, blinking back the hot tears of fury causing his steel expression to soften just the tiniest bit.
“Lola, there are worse things in the world you could be subjected to.”
A/n yes, this is moving slow, I realise that but...when I write this is what comes out. Things will get interesting once their characters have been more explored-I assure you. And also-woah! So proud of myself-updated in exactly 2 weeks.
Again as I keep telling people, I can only update once I have a chapter written out. I swear, I am not just hoarding chapters and torturing you all. I actually am just updating as I write and that means that I don't get that much time to write. Thus the slow updates. So can people just STOP demanding me to update!
I update as I possibly can. And a realistic time frame for that is 2 weeks. I give that time frame loosely for those who like to know when to expect an update-it not some requirement of mine.
I am OVERWHELMED at the positive response this is having but comments saying 'update soon' or 'update' are just rude and I hate reading them. So I will start deleting them. And if it continues....well, idk but it'll be something mean.
Anyway, on that downer. Have a great weekend and apparently-I am told it is the SuperBowl tomorrow so go...American Football-wooo! *and all that jazz* :)