Two Hours
1095 Words
Emily woke up on the bed. Morning light streamed into the room. Her back was to the window, the sun warm against her spine. She turned over, shifting toward the light.
That’s when she saw him.
Lothaire was sitting in an armchair near the window, completely still. Watching her. He looked comfortable. Like he’d been there for hours.
Emily jolted upright, her heart slamming in her chest. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t hold his gaze. She’d been scared of him before, but this was different. She’d seen what he could do. Seen him pull the trigger without hesitation. Seen the body drop.
She was shaking.
“You shouldn’t have seen that,” Lothaire said, his voice calm. “I’m sorry.”
Emily didn’t respond. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, her eyes fixed on the floor.
“But the man deserved it,” he continued. “He was trafficking young girls. That’s forbidden. We never traffic humans. Not in my organization. And young girls?” He shook his head. “He was dead the moment he started that business.”
Emily nodded. Barely. Just a slight movement of her head. She didn’t trust her voice.
Then she noticed something. She looked down at herself. A different robe. Not the one she’d been wearing last night. She lifted the duvet slightly, checking.
No panties.
Her eyes widened. She looked at Lothaire. He was shirtless. She was pantless.
What had happened?
Lothaire must have seen the panic on her face because he spoke quickly. “It wasn’t me. A maid changed your clothes. I didn’t touch you.”
Emily exhaled, but the tension didn’t leave her body.
“You have people for everything,” she muttered.
“It’s one of the advantages of being a boss,” he said.
Emily turned her head away, bending slightly so she didn’t have to look at him. She couldn’t. Not yet.
“Are you scared of me?” Lothaire asked.
Emily didn’t answer.
“Oh, you’re scared of me,” he said again, softer this time.
Still nothing.
Emily swallowed hard, then finally spoke. Her voice was tight, controlled. “Since you have maids for everything, which one is responsible for giving me back my phone and laptop?”
Lothaire smiled. Not a big smile. Just a small, amused curve of his lips. “Not happening. You’ll have them at the right time.”
“At the right time?”
“For now, if you need anything,” He raised his hand and snapped his fingers once.
The door opened. A man stepped inside. Older. Gray hair. Dressed in a crisp black suit. A butler, maybe.
“He’s here to help you,” Lothaire said. “With whatever you need.”
Lothaire stood up from the chair, stretching slightly. His muscles moved under his skin, smooth and controlled. Emily looked away.
“Be ready in two hours,” he said. “We need to get some things before we depart.”
Emily’s head snapped up. “Depart? Depart to where?”
“Sicily.”
“What?”
“We’re flying to Sicily.”
Emily stood up, the blanket falling to the floor. She walked toward him, her jaw tight. “I’m not flying anywhere. Except back to my state.”
“It wasn’t an offer,” Lothaire said, his tone harder now. “It was an order.”
“I’m not a big bag of potatoes you can transfer whenever you want,” Emily shot back standing up from the bed. “If that’s your idea of making me fall in love with you, then you must be delusional.”
She hit his chest. Hard.
Lothaire moved fast. He grabbed her wrist, spun her around, and pushed her back onto the bed. She landed on the soft mattress, her breath slowed. He leaned over her, his hands pinning hers down, his face close to hers.
Emily didn’t think. She just reacted.
She slapped him.
The sound echoed in the room.
Lothaire froze. His jaw tightened. His eyes darkened. For thirty seconds, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared at her with an intensity that made her stomach twist.
Then he grabbed her arm. Tight. Too tight.
“If you ever hit me again….”
“What?” Emily cut him off, her voice sharp. “You’ll kill me too?”
Lothaire’s grip loosened. He stared at her for another long moment, then let go. He stood up, stepping back.
“It’ll be a good year,” he said quietly. “I promise, Mily.”
Then he walked out.
---------------
Emily sat on the bed for a long time after he left. Her heart was still racing. Her arm still burned where he’d grabbed her.
She needed a new plan. Running wasn’t working. Fighting wasn’t working. So maybe she’d try something else. Maybe she’d frustrate him. Make his life hell. Make everyone around him miserable until they finally let her go.
She stood up, walked to the closet, and opened it. Inside were rows of clothes. Dresses. Shoes. Everything she had packed with Marcos and her best friend for the birthday vacation. Of course. They brought my stuff, she thought.
She pulled out a red dress. Simple. Fitted. She slipped it on, let her hair down, and looked at herself in the mirror. If she was going to be stuck here, she might as well look good doing it.
Emily walked out of the room and down the stairs. The butler was waiting at the bottom.
“Breakfast is ready, Miss,” he said.
Emily followed him through the house and out onto a terrace. A long table was set up, covered with food. More food than one person could ever eat. Plates of fruit. Pastries. Eggs. Bacon. Bread. Cheese. Wine.
The butler pulled out a chair for her. Emily sat down, staring at the table.
“Is your boss trying to feed me or get me fat?” she asked.
The butler’s expression didn’t change. “He just wants to take care of you.”
Emily lifted one of the silver domes covering a plate. Eggs Benedict. She looked up at the butler.
“I was told you’re here to help me with whatever I need, is that right?,” she said.
“Yes, Miss.”
Emily leaned back in her chair, a small smile playing on her lips.
“So I need you to sit down and help me eat.“
- Writer
