Mr Sinclair's Contract Bride

Chapter 2: The masked man

Crystal became suddenly overcome with a great cold, and her face became pale as though she was impaled with the sharp spear of grief. She could tell the doctor was about to announce the death of her mother from the look on his face and his aura. For that split second, her mind was ruthlessly bombarded with various thoughts: 'how could my mum be dead? I thought I did everything. If only I had been quicker. If only that fool of a man had not wasted my time. What was the point of signing the contract if the woman she was trying to save was dead?'

“Miss Rivera? Miss Rivera,” the doctor called as he held her by the shoulder as if to bring her back to reality from her distant world of thoughts.

She gasped back to life.

“Did you hear what I said? Your mother is in a coma; she’s not dead. We have been able to sustain her due to the sum sent by Mr. Sinclair on behalf of your mother’s health.”

She could not believe what she had just heard. Her mother was not dead but in a coma. She collapsed to her knees, crying in relief. It was as though her breath had been seized from her and was finally given back at that moment. She was speechless.

“It’s alright ma’am; your mother is receiving the best care. You can come to see her,” the doctor assured as he tried to deescalate the scene Crystal’s crying was causing in the hospital reception.

“Take me to her,” she said as she wiped her tears and got on her feet.

“Right this way, ma’am,” the doctor said as he led the way, gesturing for her to follow him.

They got to the intensive care ward where her mother was held. Crystal immediately stepped in, eyes filled with tears and a heart filled with relief. She looked at her mother on the hospital bed with different tubes attached to her body surrounded by beeping monitors.

She went to her mother’s side and held her hand.

“I’m going to get you out of here, Mum, I swear. I'd make sure of it,” she promised with a shaky and teary voice.

She got up after a long moment of solace with her comatose mother, adjusted herself, wiped her tears, and headed out, thanking the doctor graciously before leaving.

She was on her way home. She boarded a taxi as was her regular fashion, and while the ride went on, she was trying to make sense of the events that had just transpired in her life that day, not to add that she was to get married to this mysteriously ruthless man next week.

She needed a drink, or five, to drown her stress in, so she called the taxi to stop at a nearby bar. She paid him off and got down and into the bar with almost no life left in her.

“Stiff gin and tonic,” she ordered with a faint voice.

The bartender immediately got to work and served her.

“Enjoy your drink,” he said.

She downed the whole shot with no reply and made a sour face, asking for more. And so it continued like that till it was late in the day, and she was drunk and half-conscious with her head on the table.

Then she passed out.

The next morning, she was woken by the nastiest hangover as a result of the alcohol intake the night before. But to her surprise, she was in her bed, covered in a blanket. How was she in her bed? Moreover, how did she get to her house? The last memory she had was of a glass of gin she used to douse her thoughts.

She lifted the blanket to look underneath and saw that she was naked. She gasped, and her heart began to race. What had transpired between that night and this morning? While she was busy trying to make sense of it all, she heard a familiar voice.

“Hey beautiful,” the masculine voice tore through the silence.

Crystal jolted up in fear and sat right up, looking at the person who spoke.

“Sean?” she questioned as she made out who it was. It was her much-loathed ex-boyfriend, Sean Philips. “What the f**k are you doing in my house?”

“Come on, what do you mean? We used to live here together, you know,” Seth replied with a sly smile.

“Yes, I'm glad you are aware it was in the past and that it is over. So what are you doing here?” she asked in an aggravated tone.

“Are you raising your voice at me?” he asked with annoyance dancing about his tone. “How do you think you got here? You left yourself drunk in the bar; you could have been taken advantage of by the drunkards there, and I did you a favor and brought you home, you ungrateful slut.”

Slowly and gradually, anger began to seep into his aura as he spoke. Crystal could tell, and she knew she had to be careful as it was just the both of them in the house, and if he got abusive like he always did, she would have no one to save her.

“Okay, but why am I naked? Explain that,” Crystal asked in a relatively more polite tone.

“What is there to hide? Have I not seen it all?” He said with a narcissistic tone as he got up from the chair.

“What did you do to me, Sean?” Crystal was now getting scared, and she held the blanket close to her chest, looking up at him as he walked closer to her on the bed.

“Baby,” he said with a very dark tone. “No matter where you run, you’ll always be mine. You can't run from me; you can't run from us,” he undid his belt and tossed it to a corner in the room.

“S-s-Seán, please,” she cried.

“Yes, Crystal, that’s it, beg me,” he was kneeling on the bed now just opposite her. “Remember when we used to do this all the time? Don't you miss that?”

Crystal closed her eyes as fear crippled her, hoping this was a dream and she would wake up the moment she opened her eyes. She felt Seán’s hands on the blanket.

“Please,” she cried.

But she heard a loud thud and felt his hands come off her. She immediately opened her eyes to see Seán collapsed on the floor.

She looked up to see a masked man kitted in all black standing just above unconscious Seán. In fear, she tried to let out a scream.

“Hel—” her voice got muffled as this figure put his gloved hands over her mouth.