His therapist

Untitled Episode1

He stared at me, deciding if I was worth keeping alive or not.

The night sky hung low and heavy above the city, thick clouds swallowing the moon as if the world itself wanted to hide in darkness, cold wind rushed through the streets, carrying the distant sounds of thunder. Rain hammered against the windows of the Blackwood Hotel as I stepped out of the elevator with exhaustion dragging heavily through my body. It was almost midnight, my body and soul groaned, weak from all the day's stress. It was too late for another session, too late for me to be awake, yet here I was trying to survive, trying to build a good and promising future. I always thought of how wealthy people didn’t appreciate the wealthy families they came from, unlike our kind who have to struggle to get the least thing like clothes.

I tightened my coat around myself as I walked through the quiet hallway, my heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor. My therapy bag hung low from my shoulder, stuffed with notebooks, unpaid bills, and a headache I could almost feel behind my eyes because I hadn't eaten anything for the day. I had so many clients today who didn’t give me a break to get lunch. Not that I was complaining, but then again, missing lunch was the price to pay. My intestine grumbled and twisted in protest at the denial of their rights. Tonight's client was one of the most awkward people I have met in my life and entire career as a therapist. She had come to my office, spending hours crying over her husband cheating on her with a twenty-three-year-old model. I felt her pain and betrayal, her broken trust. I had listened, nodded, offered advice I secretly wished someone would give me on how to survive loneliness and depression. I wish I had someone who could advise me too, but all I could do was listen and do my work as a therapist, because their mental health was my priority even if I was rotting mentally.

The hallway stretched endlessly ahead, dim golden lights reflecting off black walls. Luxury dripped from every corner of the hotel, but something about the silence felt wrong tonight, it was too quiet. I reached for the elevator button as I approached the room, I heard voices echoing from farther down the corridor. Male angry voices, I was still listening when I heard a crash followed by the trembling voice of a man. “Please… please, I can..... A gunshot rang out through the hallway. My heart nearly jumped out of my mouth as I shrieked in fear before recovering and clasping my hands over my mouth, my eyes wide in fear. My blood pressure was definitely off the charts. The sound wasn’t like the movies. It was louder, ugly, real, my instinct screamed at me to run. Fear took over my body as I stood rooted to my sport, another part of me trained to handle crises knocked at me. So I pulled myself together before fear could control me entirely. Slowly, carefully, I stepped toward the slightly open door at the end of the hallway. Warm light spilled across the floor beneath it. Another voice spoke inside the room, cold and calm..................................................... “You already had your chance, but you didn't make use of it very well when you could have done so, that means no chance for you again.” Something about that voice made my stomach tighten, sending a shiver down my spine. I placed one trembling hand against the door and pushed it open just enough to see inside. My heart pounded heavily in my chest when I took in the blood -stained, white carpet. I averted my gaze and turned to leave, my heart heavy and filled with anguish and fear. A man lay on the floor gasping weakly, clutching his chest while several armed men stood around him in silence. And standing directly in the center of the room was a man dressed in black. His shoulders were broad and he towered over the rest of the men in the room, emotionless dark eyes and tattoos up to his neck. He held a gun loosely in one hand like it belonged there naturally. The man on the floor reached toward him desperately..............

“Dante… please…” He stared down at him mercilessly. Then he pulled the trigger, the second gunshot shattered the silence in the room. I sucked in a horrified breath, I was witnessing a CRIME SCENE. Every head turned toward the door, all eyes on me. For one terrible second, nobody moved an inch from the scene as I stared wide-eyed at them. The armed men reacted first, grabbing their weapons and pointing them directly at me. I stumbled backward.“I—I didn’t see anything.” I mumbled, fear paralyzing my tongue. The man in black lifted one hand slightly. The others froze immediately, obeying his gesture like their lives depended on it. His eyes locked onto my eyes, dark, unreadable, dangerously calm and unable to predict as I stood there staring at him helplessly.

Even looking at my face, I knew the name, billionaire business entrepreneur, owner of half the city’s luxury properties, a ticking time bomb, heartless killing machine.....a storm ready to explode at any moment anywhere. A man constantly surrounded by rumors no one could prove. And now I understand better because I was now at his mercy. Fear crashed into my chest with a great force at the thought that this may be my end.

All I needed to do was to leave the premises right NOW. But the man on the floor started choking violently, blood spilling from his mouth. Without thinking, my professional role as a therapist's instincts took over. Being a medical personnel is a great influence on society because our role is to save the world and render service to humanity.

“You need to apply pressure to the wound,” I blurted out, kneeling beside him as I administered CPR on him. “He’s bleeding too fast.” The room went drop -dead silent. I looked up at them to see their confused expression. Some stared at me like I had gone nuts. One of the guards looked genuinely confused and was about to say something when the one standing beside him broke into a full-belly laughter. Then I realized too late what I had just done. Dante tilted his head slightly, studying me in a way that made my skin crawl. You’re not afraid?” he asked quietly. I swallowed hard as I tried to force my tongue to move and form words. “I am,” I whispered. His eyes narrowed slightly, almost impressed by the answer. The dying man on the floor coughed weakly again. His eyes still trained on me. “What do you do for a living?” The question caught me off guard. “I’m a psychologist.” One of the guards muttered something under his breath. His expression didn’t change, but the atmosphere in the room shifted as he stepped closer. I totally fought the urge to run as expensive leather shoes stopped inches away from me. Up close, he was so terrified I had the urge to pee. Don't tell me I was going to pee myself from just his aura. He looked so comfortable standing beside death................................. “A psychologist,” he repeated softly. Gaze shifted briefly towards the dead man on the floor. When he looked back at me, something cold settled into his expression. “You chose the wrong door tonight, Doctor Brooks.” All the blood in my body turned to ice, as I felt the color drain from my face. How did he know my name? I yelled in my head. Before I could react to it, one of the guards stepped behind me, strong hands grabbed my arms instantly, holding me firmly. My heartbeat was crashing wildly in my chest as my hands shook in fear. I was trapped............................................................................. “Wait,” My therapy bag hit the floor as I struggled. Dante calmly handed his gun to another man without breaking eye contact with me. He kept looking at me without blinking his eyes, he uttered some words slowly. Turning slowly back to me, he uttered the words that shattered me completely.