Chapter 4: Something In Return
1196 Words
Presently
Elara stands at the far end of the hospital corridor, arms folded tightly around herself. Her dress clings to her skin, sticky from sweat and tears. Her legs wobble beneath her, and her mind wouldn’t stop spinning.
Though grateful, she keeps wondering. She never would have expected help from someone like him, someone so obviously out of her world. And yet, Dael had shown up at her door like an answer to a prayer whispered into an empty night.
He doesn't owe her anything. He could have turned away. But instead, he helped. No hesitation. No questions.
She also didn't expect him to stay after they brought Elias in. But he did. He didn’t say much, barely looked at her, but he stayed.
She racks her brain. The man struck her as cold, from the very first day they met at that hotel, from everything that happened between them. Like a block of ice, ready to freeze the sun over. So why, she wonders, is he doing all these?
Later, after Elias is declared stable, and her anxiety calms, she asks to speak with Dael.
Her weary brown eyes meet his steely blue-grey ones. “Why are you helping me?”
His answer is straightforward. “Because I need something in return.”
She blinks at him. Stunned.
But of course, she should have known. He needs something in return.
And this is when her mind goes back to the first time she saw him. Really saw him.
~~~
Three Weeks Ago
Elara paused outside the gold-plated gates, staring up at the tall glass tower that seemed to reach the clouds.
The Artemis, that was the name of the hotel. It was intimidating, exclusive, elite, luxurious. The kind of place that didn’t just have chandeliers, but chandeliers that cost more than her house.
Her fingers tightened around the brown paper bag from the diner. A grease stain bloomed near the bottom corner, threatening to give way. She shifted her grip and took a breath.
She was just the girl on a delivery with a grease-stained paper bag. And that tower of glass and gold? It wasn’t meant for girls like her.
But still… her feet lingered. And as she stepped through the gleaming glass doors, the breath left her lungs like it’d been punched out.
You’re not here to admire the hotel, she told herself. Just drop the snacks. Go. You don’t belong here. Not yet.
Marble floors shone like ice beneath her shoes. Golden light spilled down from vaulted ceilings. A faint scent of roses and wealth filled the air. This was the kind of place where even the silence sounded expensive.
She kept her head down and walked straight to the front desk. The woman behind it arched a brow, barely glanced at her uniform, and typed something on the screen.
“Room 1804,” she said. “Take the east elevators.”
Elara nodded and muttered a thank-you, then turned toward the long corridor leading to the lifts.
As she walked, she stole a glance around. A couple strolled past her; the woman in red-soled heels and a dress that flowed like liquid silk. A businessman barked orders into his phone near the lounge, where a pianist played soft, pleasing jazz.
Elara swallowed. One day, she promised silently, eyes drifting up toward the chandelier overhead. Once Elias gets better... Once I save enough... I’ll build something of my own. I’ll invest. I’ll rise. I’ll give us a life that isn't made of sickness, empty stomachs and fear. One day.
The elevator dinged.
She stepped in, alone. And watched the golden numbers climb until they reached eighteen.
The hallway outside was just as lavish. Deep carpet. Ornate sconces casting soft light. She muttered the room number again — 1804 — and started walking.
But somewhere between her nerves, the weight of the delivery, and the unfamiliar corridor turns, she stopped at the wrong door.
1802.
The door was slightly ajar. She knocked and thought she heard what sounded like a faint “Come in.” So she did.
The next seconds unfolded like a slow motion movie.
The room’s bathroom door creaked open, and steam curled out as Dael stepped out, towel hanging low around his hips.
His tanned skin was slick with droplets that traced down the hard ridges of his abs. Broad shouldered, sculpted armed, and a chest built like temptation, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a forbidden fantasy.
Wet strands of dark hair clung to his forehead, and when he raked a hand through them, his muscles flexed in a way that made her breath catch.
Elara froze. Then caught herself.
Her skin tingled with heat, “Oh my goodness… I’m sorry… I thought this was —”
“You break into hotel rooms for fun,” Dael interrupted her steely, “or just rich ones?”
Her jaw dropped, anger joining the heat riling up in her stomach. “I’m not breaking in! I’m delivering… I thought this was 1804 — ”
“This is 1802.”
She muttered an apology, whirled around hurriedly to leave but in her panic, tripped over the edge of a rug.
Dael moved swiftly, his strong arms catching her waist and pulling her against his firm, bare chest.
They stumbled, landing against the wall.
Time slowed as they froze, locked in a compromising position. Her face tilted up to his, their lips mere inches apart.
She inhaled sharply, the scent of musk and heat radiating from his skin. Her palms flattened against his muscular pecs, fingers curling slightly. Elara had never been this close to a man before, thus her heart raced, breath hitching in her throat.
And Dael had only meant to steady her. That was all.
But for a moment, too long a moment, they stood there frozen. His heartbeat against her fingertips.
His blue-grey eyes — a flicker of something like desire passing through them — searched her brown ones intensely.
She shouldn’t have felt this drawn to someone like him. Not when her life had no room for distractions.
She parted her lips, "You.. .you can let me go now," she murmured.
But her body betrayed her, melting into his touch, craving more.
~~~
Presently
Elara closes her eyes, haunted by the memory.
That day, after he let her go, she scrambled out to the right room. Nothing had happened. Yet it felt like something had.
And that was just the beginning.
She hadn’t known his name then. She hadn’t known how cold he could be.
Or how many times their paths would twist, pulling them back toward each other.
But she remembers the feeling of falling into him and not wanting to climb out.
Even now, in this sterile hallway with Elias in a hospital bed and Dael demanding something in return, her body remembers the shape of that moment.
“Something in return?” Her voice falters. “What kind of… something?”
Dael’s eyes flicker, just for a second, and something unreadable passes over his face.
“It’s not illegal,” he says finally, “but it’ll change things… between us.”
- Writer
