His therapist

Untitled Episode3

Entering the mansion felt like a misfortune, like I was entering a war zone. We alighted the car and walked into the mansion that was as quiet, it screamed of misfortune. As I walked into the mansion, my eyes took notice of the beautiful mosaic designs, flower gardens, fleet of cars and armed robotic-looking uniform men standing at different points while some disappeared into the mansion. I tightened my grip on my therapy bag and followed Dante into the mansion. My breath stopped when I took in the beautiful wall designs of the interior. I did not fail to notice the disturbing artwork which I didn't have time to reflect on. His house was cold and spoke of wealth, he was indeed more wealthy than what the papers put him to be. As he neared the door after walking and walking, the body sensor doors slid open, revealing a wide dark mahogany table in the center of the room. A glass of whiskey rested proudly on the desk alongside piles of papers. At the far corner was a grand piano looking so out of place for a man like him. Then rows of bookshelves were situated before the piano. There was a couch with a smaller center table just in front of his table and a huge chair behind it. A wine cellar was in the left corner, his office was spectacular and dark, just like him.

Dante removed his suit jack slowly and placed it on a chair before he turned towards me. "Have a seat,” my mind was far gone thinking about a variety of things. I felt this sudden tension all over me that didn’t allow me to think straight.

“Never mind, I prefer standing or better still. You let me go.” The expression on his face didn't change one bit, rather he looked unaffected. “That’s not possible, be realistic,” he said with a scowl on his face. “You can't keep me here. I don't belong, I only belong to my patients' well-being and mental health,” I replied, trying to reason with him that I had a life and I needed to return to my life. “Your life will belong wherever I deem fit for you. Your life is mine now. Deal with it.” “You do not own me,” I screamed as terror seized me, my feet growing cold from fear. He looked at me, chuckling darkly, making my heart race. "You do not need me here, I am of no use to you here. I have patients who are relying on me, I have people to attend to. You can't keep me locked up here.” Tears stung the back of my eyes. He walked towards the large window overlooking the city. "You are a psychologist, which means you study human behavior, fears, trauma and weakness.” I stood speechless, staring at the back of his head as he kept talking. "You saw something tonight when most people collapsed. Instead of panicking, you tried to help a dying man. That makes me a little interested in you,” he said, turning to study me. I felt unease crawling under my skin, my throat tightened as a wave of anger hit me. “I am not working for you,” I screamed in anger, moving closer to stand in front of him. My chest heaving in anger, he can't do that to me. So many people depended on me for me to get stuck here with this sick man because he was definitely sick. His face morphed into anger. “You don't have a choice, you think abducting a person is normal? You think normal people go around abducting people and killing? NO. My life stopped being normal for a long time. The room fell silent as we both assimilated the information. I studied him carefully for the first time, there was no pride in the way he just expressed himself, only exhaustion hidden behind control. He walked behind his desk, pulled out his drawer and took out a file. I walked towards his large desk as he pushed the file towards me. I stared at him for a long time before opening the file. My blood ran cold, my hands shook and sweat broke out from my armpit and forehead. It was an autograph of my life, workplace records, financial debt, education, my family, unaware pictures of me at different points in life. How ? I looked up with suspicion and curiosity written all over my face. “What is the meaning of all these?” I asked as I tried to control my voice from shaking. “What does my family have to do with this?” His face was expressionless as he studied me. “It means you don't have a choice” I looked at him as disgust curled in the pit of my belly, who threatened people with their families? MONSTERS. I answered for myself. If he noticed the expression on my face, he didn't show it. “You will stay here for some months to conduct a private therapy session with me, I need it for my future and wellbeing.” I stood in disbelief, a heartless killing machine wanting therapy from someone like me, a commoner. A dark shadow crossed his face," No, he said quietly, “a mafia boss needs it.”

The honesty of the statement caught me completely off guard. For a second, I almost saw the man beneath the monster. “What if I refuse?” I asked carefully. His expression turned monstrous, “You won't leave this mansion alive.” It wasn't a threat, it was a promise and nothing could deceive me. He wouldn’t carry out the promise. “How can I survive here? What about my clients? My patients? You can't lock me in here.” He stepped closer to me, "You help me, I will let you walk away when your time is due

.”