DRUGGED
1213 Words
CHAPTER TWO
**PARADISE HOTEL**
Eleanor's eyes fluttered open, her head throbbing with a relentless ache. She clutched her temples, trying to alleviate the pain, her eyes remaining tightly shut.
“Welcome back, sleeping beauty" a deep voice resonated in the room. She raised her head to see a man seated directly in front of her, likely in his mid-forties.
“Wait a minute, what is he doing in her room?” she thought, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. This wasn't her room; she was in a hotel.
“Who... who are you?” Eleanor's voice trembled.
“Don't act all oblivious. We both know what you are here for" he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he trailed his hand down her body.
A resounding slap landed on his cheek almost immediately. “How dare you touch me with those sticky hands of yours!” she yelled, her head buzzing and spinning furiously.
“You…” he seethed. “Sticky hands… Sticky hands that you can accept twenty-five million from.”
“I paid a total of fifty million to get you on my bed!” he bellowed.
“What?? Fifty million?” she echoed, shock evident in her voice.
He suddenly pushed her backward, pinning her down. He forced a cup of whiskey to her lips, trying to pour it down her throat as Eleanor struggled beneath him.
“f**k off!” she yelled, mustering all the strength left in her body to push him away.
She sprang to her feet, grabbing the bottle of wine on the table, and slammed it hard against his head.
Mr. Taylor staggered backward, clutching his bleeding head.
Eleanor gasped, staring at the bottle in her hand. It wasn’t broken, which meant he was only injured.
“Come any closer, and I swear I’ll kill you" she warned, her vision blurring and her head spinning uncontrollably.
Without another thought, she bolted out of the hotel room, running as fast as she could. She clutched her head, her breath growing heavy, her steps faltering.
She turned to see the injured man still pursuing her.
**
Mr. Martinez alighted from his limo with a dignified air. His hands tucked into his pockets, his bodyguards trailing closely behind, he made his way into the hotel.
“Good day, sir" he received greetings from the staff, but, true to his pompous nature, he didn't respond to any.
He approached the receptionist, his bodyguards in tow.
“Good day, sir" the receptionist greeted sweetly, adjusting her hair and flashing a bright smile at him.
“I’m here for Mr. Torres. His room number?” he asked curtly.
“Oh, Mr. Torres. I’ll check right away" she said, pursing her lips and batting her lashes incessantly.
Her fingers moved swiftly across the record book until she found the room number. “Room number 165. Would you like me to take you there?” she asked, smiling even brighter.
Mr. Martinez placed his hand on the desk. “Come a little closer" he commanded, and she complied.
“You look creepy with that weird smile on" he said, pulling away and walking off briskly.
The receptionist's smile faded into a frown. Did she really look creepy, or was he just toying with her?
He turned back towards her. “And I don't do bitches" he added before walking away, his bodyguards following.
They soon arrived at room 165, where several bodyguards stood.
“Good day, Mr. Martinez" one of the bodyguards at the door greeted with a bow. As usual, he ignored them.
“You can't go in" another bodyguard said as Mr. Martinez tried to enter.
“And why is that?” he asked, his cold gaze making the bodyguard swallow hard.
“Mr. Torres has requested that you come in alone, and your bodyguards should wait for you in the bar" the bodyguard explained.
Mr. Martinez sighed deeply. “Wait for me in the bar" he instructed his bodyguards.
“Yes, sir" they replied, bowing before walking away.
The bodyguard opened the door for him, and Mr. Martinez walked in briskly.
“Good day, Mr. Martinez" the man inside greeted with a smile.
Mr. Martinez nodded at him before pulling out a chair opposite him. Just then, another bodyguard entered, placing two drinks before them.
“Let's get down to the deal" Mr. Martinez said, his tone businesslike.
“Of course, immediately after refreshments" the man replied.
“I do not drink during business proposals" Mr. Martinez stated firmly.
“Are you trying to reject my offer?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow.
With a surge of irritation, Mr. Martinez grabbed the glass and poured the contents into his mouth.
“Can I sign the contract now?” he asked, his tone impatient.
“Of course" the man said, handing over a document.
Mr. Martinez took the document and flipped through it roughly.
“Is this a joke? The document states I'm transferring my company to you!” he half-yelled.
“No, it's reality" the man replied, his smile fading. “Transfer the company ownership to my name" he demanded coldly.
“What if I don't?” Mr. Martinez challenged.
The man laughed, his expression turning sinister. “You have no other choice here. There’s no one to help you out.”
Mr. Martinez reached for his pocket but found it empty. “Looking for this?” the man taunted, holding up his phone.
“s**t!” Mr. Martinez cursed under his breath.
“Sign the documents, and we’re done, or this might get bloody" the man warned, pulling out a gun.
Mr. Martinez's eyes widened, realizing the gravity of his situation.
He took the pen from the table, his hand moving to sign the document. He had to play smart. His hand moved slowly over the document, Mr. Torres anticipating his signature.
Suddenly, Mr. Martinez lunged forward, stabbing the pen into Mr. Torres's neck and slamming his head onto the table.
“Ahhh!” Mr. Torres screamed. Mr. Martinez glanced at the door, seeing the hinges twist as his bodyguards approached.
In an instant, he darted forward, positioning himself behind the door.
As the bodyguards rushed in, heading straight for their master, Mr. Martinez knocked down the last one and dashed out into the hall.
“After him!” Mr. Torres yelled. The bodyguards immediately gave chase.
Mr. Martinez stopped abruptly, his head spinning. What had upset his stomach? “The drink!” he realized.
“Catch him!” he heard a yell behind him. He made a sharp turn and ran as fast as he could.
He took another sharp turn, his hand finding the hinges of a door. He twisted it open and staggered inside, slamming the door shut.
His head was spinning madly now.
**
Eleanor made a turn, her head a spinning mess. She needed to take cover. Her hand found the hinges of a door, and she staggered inside.
She rested her back against the door, her breath coming in heavy gasps. One of the bodyguards approached the room, glanced at the door, and then ran off.
A hand suddenly gripped Eleanor's mouth, holding her tightly. She struggled, trying to free herself.
She was flung away, landing hard on the bed.
- Writer
