Claimed by the ruthless Mafia king

Zack's mansion (2)

[Emma]

I followed the men inside the mansion even though it was far from what I wanted. I wanted to chase after the man holding my mother's things, I wanted to plead with him until he released the box to me but the unease I felt from the men on my sides was enough advice to stay put.

What use will my mother's things be if I angered Zack to the point of him getting me killed?

We got into a sitting room that I immediately thought was too big. There was noone in the sitting room, and no sign of anybody, not even Zack who had gotten in only a few seconds ago. While outside the mansion was painted white and beautiful, inside was impeccable. Every item in the mansion sparkled like precious stones, and at the same time screamed wealth.

I stopped when both men stopped walking, and watched them exchange confused glances. They probably didn't know what to do with me, or where to put me.

Good!

It felt good to know that I was not the only person feeling lost. I could already imagine how hellish my stay here would be if these men, as scary as they are could be so scared themselves.

While they communicated with their eyes, I focused on the interior of the sitting room, focusing on one item at a time. The sofas in the room, about six of them of varying sizes were of high quality, the best I have ever seen, and so was every other item. The TV set occupied the entire wall from the top, close to the ceiling to the bottom, and blended beautifully with the milk coloured wall.

It was on now, and displaying some anime characters I was not familiar with. There was a door at the far end of the sitting room, leading to God-knows-where, and another door adjacent to the first.

The sitting room was spacious, maybe too spacious, or maybe I was only judging with ours back home.

Back home!

It sounded strange, and instantly caused my heart to hit heavily against my chest. The reminder that back home would henceforth be the only tie I had with what used to be my home caused my eyes to sting once more.

“What are you doing?” The familiar voice of Zack rang out unexpectedly, causing me to flinch, and the men to mumble to themselves. I had my steamy eyes fixed on the TV, and didn't hear him come in.

“Take her to room four.” He said before any of them could come up with something meaningful. He was dressed in a black suit now and holding a briefcase. The thought that he was leaving should be enough to make me let out a sigh of relief, but it didn't. To the best of my knowledge, his men were just as cold as merciless as he was.

They led me through the door at the far end to a wide hallway with doors on both sides. Each door held a number written against it, and unlike others I had seen, the numbers were randomly allotted to each door. The first door held the number twelve while the door which was directly opposite it held the number five. The next doors held the numbers one and nine.

Right!

I said in my head. Both men were as confused as I was, and completely unaware of what number was on the next door.

We located the door which held the number four only after we had walked past every door in the hallway. It was the last door, and would serve as my bedroom for the next—three, four or five days, or months, or even years.

I dragged in a deep breath to fill my suddenly constricted lungs but all I felt was a sharp pain tearing through my chest and ribs. I was more terrified of the fact that I would realize more terrifying truths, and live through more terrifying events.

“Go in.”

I couldn't tell which of the men spoke. I didn't care. I only went through the door which had just been opened while my whole body trembled. I quickly bit my lips to stop myself from screaming when the door suddenly closed shut.

The bedroom, like the other parts of the mansion I had seen, was of high standard, and promised comfort. But it was Zack's, and I wouldn't be fooled. Everything in it reminded me of him, and what terrors I was exposed to just by being in his mansion.

I headed for one of the two adjoining doors in the room, when I realized that I was pressed. But unlucky as I was, it was the wrong door, the one leading to the closet. I headed quickly for the other door, but it was too late. My bladder had released the fluid it was holding in for God-knows how many hours, soaking my nighties, and running down the spotless floor.

I went into full panic mode the next instant, thinking frantically of the way out. First, I ran into the bathroom, and emptied what was left in my bladder in the toilet. Then I returned to the bedroom, to clean up the mess I had made.

There was nothing to clean it with. Nothing except for the nighties which I was wearing, and there was no time to try coming up with something else.

Without thinking, I took off my top, and wiped the floor with it. Then I returned to the bathroom, and rinsed it. I repeated the exercise a few more times until I was sure it will not be detected.

I took off the shorts and my panties too, and rinsed it out in the bathroom.

Now standing stark naked in the bathroom, it was only natural to shower. Getting an outfit won't be difficult at all. Didn't I just see the closet packed full with clothes?

The clothes in the closet were all perfect for my size, and brand new. I did a quick calculation, and selected a plain gown. If Zack had not been heartless enough to burn the box I brought, I wouldn't have need of his clothes. Plus they were my mother's.

I stopped thinking on impulse, and wondered what it was that I needed to remember. Until I did…

My mother's letter!

I ran back into the bathroom where I hung my nighties, and roughly turned both fabrics inside out.

But there was no letter, or any sign that there had been one.