Chapter Two: Lola
1011 Words
The way he stares at me makes my skin crawl. Before I can respond, the SUV glides into a wide compound, and my eyes widen at the sight of Carlos' mansion. The building is grand—imposing, with pristine walls and well-manicured lawns. It looks like something out of a luxury magazine.
The car stops, and Carlos flashes a smile, extending his hand to help me out.
“Shall we?” he says, his tone unsettlingly sweet.
Reluctantly, I place my hand in his and step out of the car. My gaze sweeps over the surroundings, and despite myself, I nod in appreciation. The place is undeniably stunning.
“Let’s go in, Lola,” Carlos says, motioning toward the mansion. He places his hand lightly on my back, which is discomforting.
I follow him, my unease growing with every step. If the exterior was breathtaking, the interior is magnificent—marble floors, towering chandeliers, and furniture that screams wealth. For a brief moment—a fleeting second—I forget the situation I’m in. But then reality crashes back: I’m here as collateral for my father’s debt.
“Impressed?” Carlos asks, smirking.
I let out a small laugh, unsure how to respond.
“Rose! Rose!!” he suddenly shouts, his voice echoing through the grand hall.
A woman dressed in a maid’s uniform appears almost instantly.
“Welcome, sir,” she says with a small curtsy.
Carlos barely acknowledges her. “Is her room ready as I requested?”
“Yes, sir,” Rose replies with a nod.
I freeze. A room? They had a room prepared for me? My heart races as questions flood my mind. Did Carlos know I’d be here? How long does he plan to keep me? How did my day go from zero to a hundred within a couple of hours?
“Rose will show you to your room, Lola,” Carlos says, turning back to me with a casual wave of his hand.
I follow Rose silently, feeling like a stray being led to a kennel. When we reach the room, I can’t help but gasp. It’s enormous—fit for royalty, with a canopy bed, plush carpets, and ornate decorations.
“There are clothes in the closet for you. Let me know if you need anything,” Rose says, her tone polite but distant.
“Thank you,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
Once she leaves, I slowly approach the bed. I instinctively reach for my phone but can’t find it. Panic sets in. I know I had it in my pocket earlier. Did it fall in the car?
I dart out of the room and nearly collide with Carlos.
“Whoa, what’s the rush? Don't you like your room?” he asks, his smirk as smug as ever.
“My phone. I think it fell in the car,” I stammer, my voice shaky.
“Oh, that?” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “You won’t be needing it.”
“What?” I blink at him, confused.
He sighs, as though explaining is beneath him. “I threw it away.”
“Why?” I ask, tears welling up in my eyes.
“Because you’re in my house, and in my house, you follow my rules,” he replies coldly. “Now, go back to your room, take a shower, and Rose will fetch you for dinner.”
Tears stream down my face as I walk back to the room. How will I contact my father? My friends? What have I gotten myself into?
Trying to push the questions aside, I open the closet. It’s fully stocked with clothes, shoes, and bags, all seemingly in my size. I pull out a simple dress and head to the bathroom. As I stare at my reflection, my puffy, tear-streaked face stares back.
I shower with the luxurious products provided and get dressed, feeling a strange sense of detachment. Sitting on the bed, I wait for Rose. At some point, exhaustion takes over, and I drift off to sleep.
A gentle tap wakes me.
“Sorry to disturb you, but it’s time for dinner, Miss Lola,” Rose says softly.
I nod, following her downstairs. The dining room is as grand as the rest of the house, with a table laid out with food that looks like it belongs in a five-star restaurant. My stomach growls, betraying my hunger, and I catch the faint hint of a smile on Rose’s face.
Carlos sits at the head of the table, his plate already full.
He gestures to the seat beside him. “Sit,” he commands.
I hesitantly take the seat and help myself to some food. My hands tremble slightly, but I force myself to eat.
“Enjoying the meal?” Carlos asks mid-chew, his tone casual.
“Yes, thank you…sir,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t call me sir. Call me Carlos,” he says, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Okay…C-Carlos,” I stutter.
He seems pleased, but I can’t bring myself to smile back.
A thousand questions swirl in my mind, and before I can stop myself, one slips out.
“Why am I here?”
Carlos raises an eyebrow. “What was that?”
I drop my fork, clasping my hands nervously. “Why am I here?” I repeat.
Carlos sighs, irritation flashing across his face. “First of all, I don’t like being questioned, especially while I’m eating. But I’ll humor you since you’re new. You’re here because your father owes me money.”
“How much?” I ask, unable to help myself.
His expression darkens. “$20,000.”
“Can—”
His fist slams the table, making me jump. “Can you shut up and let me eat?!” he roars.
Trembling, I push my food around, my appetite completely gone. Carlos doesn’t look at me again for the rest of the meal, and I sit in silence, wondering how my life came to this.
- Writer
