Hellena
Anger? I don't even feel that much. I feel offended. For the first time in my life, I feel humiliated by my own existence. What was I thinking? That he'd pounce on me if he saw me standing in his office doorway wearing a patch of fabric?
I feel cheap, and not just because I've been trying to make him see me the way I long to be seen ever since the first day I laid eyes on him.
No.
I feel cheap for allowing Rafael to have more of me than I felt ready to give.
Victor has been gone for two weeks. I don't know what he did during this time, but he seems changed. More furious. More acidic than I've known him to be in the short time we've spent together.
His eyes were cloudier, and I sensed him much more tense in my presence. I'm still debating whether or not to abandon my safety and get the hell out of here. But something is stopping me. I don't understand what exactly.
The thought of being far away from this place makes me regret the idea of leaving. I'd stay here forever if possible. It's ten times better than the place I call home. At least there is someone here who cares about me.
Who cares whether I eat or not.
If I slept well or not.
And now that he's back, I feel a peace inside me.
At first, I thought that his leaving had something to do with my father. I thought he found him and that's why he disappeared. But then I managed to extract some information from Rafael using the power of seduction. Sometimes, men are too easy to manipulate.
It wasn't about my father at all. His whereabouts remain unknown. I am glad and sorry in equal measure. Once again, he shows me how unimportant I am to him. He abandoned me. I feel it. Even if it doesn't seem that on the surface, deep down, I know that this is happening.
And even so, I don't judge him. I can't even hate him. On the contrary, I understand him, and I accept his decision with a peaceful heart. I feel I deserve to be abandoned. He promised to support me until I was able to take care of myself, and he did. I knew that this day would come.
Maybe that's why I feel safe here. Finally, not being alone. I guess I'm afraid to be alone. Or be abandoned. Maybe that's why I'm also trying to get to know Victor and build a relationship with him. It gives me peace and security. And I know I'm taking advantage of that.
I throw myself on the bed and close my eyes. If I were capable of real feelings, this would be when I should cry. Of pain.
Victor
I'm an asshole. Seriously, why couldn't I find something better to say? That's all I keep repeating in my head. I finished half the bottle. And I feel like I'm going crazy. Haunted by the same feelings I've been grappling with for the past two weeks.
To see her touched by that bastard was something I never thought I'd experience. Pure hell. I never knew what jealousy was. What a bitter fire it can ignite inside you. How destructive this disgusting feeling is.
He touched her.
He kissed her.
Made her laugh.
But you don't have the right to care. She is not yours! And she never will be.
Fuck! I don't want to run through these thoughts in my head anymore. I feel like I'm squeezing myself out of life, torturing myself with the same images over and over again.
I'm on the last step when I hear screaming again. Her voice stabs me. It penetrates me to the marrow of my bones. It's crushing me.
This time I wait patiently.
I stand at her door and listen, with a bitter, nauseous taste on my tongue as she continues to struggle with her nightmare, helpless.
I open the door slowly and the hinges let a subtle creak fill the room. When my eyes fall on her face, subtly lit by the lamp in the corner of the room, I give in.
Her cheeks are shining. She is crying.
Again.
I close the door behind me and approach the bed. I sit down on the edge, fighting with myself, trying to decide whether to stay or go. I continue to stare at her tortured face when my name is squeezed out like a whisper on her lips.
I widen my eyes and continue to stare at her mouth. I am waiting to hear her calling me again. I look at her, a little scared. Maybe she's not sleeping anymore. Maybe she felt I was here. But no. She kept struggling in her sleep. Kept screaming. Kept shaking uncontrollably.
My heart melts. She needs me. Even when dreaming, her subconscious is calling me. I take her in my arms and hug her to my chest, like last time. I continue to stroke her hair and kiss the top of her head.
And she calms down.
She starts breathing deeply, without sobs.
I'm so drunk right now. I don't know if being around her is the best decision. I don't want to take advantage of her vulnerability, but I feel like the nights I spend with her are my new motivation to live. My only joy. My only encouragement to survive until sunset.
I feel how fatigue is starting to overtake me. I make myself comfortable on the pillow behind me and close my eyes. I lower myself down and place her head on my chest, my arms still around her. I hold her close to me.
The alcohol in my system is starting to hit me, and sleep drifts me away. The next thing I know, I'm sneaking out of her room as soon as the day breaks. With an overwhelming headache, but with my heart in heaven.
Another night with her.
Although I feel like my head is splitting in two, I can't control the smile on my face. Maybe I was a little too drunk last night, but I know for a fact that I heard her whisper my name in her sleep.
That's a win for me.
And so continued the other nights. Ten nights to be exact. I spent every one of them with her. There was not a night without nightmares. And every night she would whisper my name, at some point giving me the motivation to return to her bed.
But every win also has its defeat.
Those were the days. Every day was a defeat. We weren't talking. She was completely ignoring me. Sometimes she would choose to skip the meals, just because she knew I would be there. Although she was using school as an excuse, citing her busy schedule and upcoming exams, I know it wasn't the true reason behind her actions.
I feel discouraged, by myself. I've started neglecting the business and it shows. Although Luca handles most of the responsibilities, it is not the same. He can't assert himself as effectively as I do. But I can't leave either.
I am stuck.
I want her by my side, but taking her with me back to the capital would mean putting her in danger. And on top of that, I'm don't want to introduce her to my real life. I would have no reason to. I also try not to trust her. After all, she is still a Bernoulli. The daughter of danger.
It is past midnight when I decide to retire to my room.
I tried to solve as many things as possible and erase as many traces of our business as possible. The police are after us. We don't seem to have as much power over law enforcement as we once did. Many things have changed in the system and we still can't adapt to the changes. That is why we must remain even more vigilant.
As I reach her door, I notice an unusual silence that feels unsettling.
Normally, I'm accustomed to hearing her in the throes of a nightmare by now, but this time, there's nothing. I pause, listening intently, but there's no sound emanating from behind the closed door.
Forgetting my usual courtesy, I push the door open without knocking, my heart racing with apprehension. Slowly, I enter the room, only to find the bed empty. Casting a glance towards the partially open bathroom door, I see that the light is off.
Hellena is nowhere to be found in her bedroom, yet her door remains closed. It's the first time she's broken my rule, and it leaves me with a sense of unease.
I dash out of the room, frantically searching every other room in the house. I nearly trip down the stairs in my haste, racing towards the kitchen, but there's no sign of her.
Ten agonizing minutes pass as I search, my mind racing with worry. Then, a realization hits me like a bolt of lightning: the pool. With hurried steps, I make my way to the pool area, my heart pounding in my chest.
There's no need to open the glass doors; I can already see her figure in the moonlight. She's seated on the artificial rock by the waterfall, resembling a mermaid in the dim light.
The pool area is bathed in the soft glow of the moon, its light reflecting through the glass ceiling. I study her carefully, noticing her bringing something to her lips. It dawns on me that she's holding a bottle from my collection.
And apparently, it's the most expensive one of all. But it's not the price of the bottle that weighs heavy on my soul; it's the fact that she's trying to numb her pain with alcohol. I can't bear to see that anguish on her face.
She raises her eyes lazily to me as she realizes she's no longer alone. Her gaze remains fixed on me as I approach her. I make my way around the pool and climb onto the rock, taking a seat beside her.
I meet her eyes, and for a few moments, time seems to stand still. A smile tugs at my lips when I catch her trying to hide the bottle behind her back. I still can't fathom how she managed to sneak into my office and steal that bottle.
"Do you know it's a hundred years old?" I lean down and yank the bottle from behind her, making her whimper.
"No wonder it tastes rotten."
She wrinkles her nose, and I can't help but admire how adorable she is.
"Why are you here?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.
She casts her eyes to the sky. "It's a full moon. I love looking at the full moon."
"What about the bottle?" I lift it to analyze what's left of its contents. I'm relieved to see that she didn't even take two mouthfuls of it. I'm not happy to know that she was drinking. She's too young for that.
"That was a bonus," she replies dejectedly.
"Why are you here?" I ask, tossing the bottle into the pool and turning my full attention to her.
She looks so small in front of me. So helpless.
"I closed the bedroom door," she says, leaving me confused. I wait for her to continue, but she remains silent.
"I noticed that you broke my rule," I add, prompting her to explain further.
"I think you were the first to do it. You promised not to enter my room without my consent" she says, her voice tinged with disappointment.
Yes, I promised. And I've broken that promise far too many times. I say nothing. I just look away.
"I knew it. For how long have you been doing this? How long have you been sneaking into my room?"
I bite my lip, feeling the weight of defeat settling in. I can't believe I'm accepting it so easily. I could deny it, but I also don't feel the need to.
"You have nightmares every night. It's hard for me to get any rest with all that screaming. That's the only way to keep you quiet," I pause when I notice her disappointed expression. There's no need for me to be a jerk, so I decide to tell her the truth. "I hate seeing you like that. Screaming. Crying. I understand better than anyone how hard it is to battle your nightmares alone," I explain.
Her cheeks flush enough to reveal color under the moonlight. Her eyes widen as she realizes what is happening. I grin in her direction, continuing to stare at the color framing her face.
"So that's why I wake up smelling of you..." she murmurs, her hand instinctively moving to cover her mouth.
I know that was a thought meant only for her. She wasn't going to voice it, but I couldn't be happier to hear her say it. Gently, I remove her hand from her mouth and continue looking at her with amusement.
"But you hate me!" she frowns, her gaze fixed on me.
Her scent carries hints of alcohol and vanilla, weaving around me like a gentle breeze.
"Why would you think I hate you?" I ask, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. She pulls back slightly, as if trying to escape my touch.
When my fingers touch her face, the same spark that I had seen not long ago ignites in her eyes. This time, it lingers a little longer. Enough to reassure me that what I'm seeing is real.
Then, like a flicker of a lighter's flame, it fades away, extinguished.
"You avoid me," she whispers. "You speak harshly to me; I feel you don't like me. I know you hate my father and want him dead. I think that's enough reason for me."
I can't help but smile.
"I'm avoiding you because I can't focus on what I have to do. I hate your father and want him dead, yes, but that has nothing to do with how I feel about you. I don't hate you, and I speak harshly to you because you keep breaking my rules."
And because I want you to stay away from me.
"So many rules!"
She throws her hands in the air and almost loses her balance. I grab her arm and pull her a little towards me. She glances at me in surprise, once again letting that alluring spark surface.
"These rules are made to keep you safe," I whisper, my voice coming out harsher than intended.
"That's something Dad would say, but it's always a lie. Rules are made to keep me captive and miserable."
I stare at her blank gaze.
"Why did he abandon you?" my question comes out more cruelly than I intended. I can see the pain on her face. She doesn't deny it. She knows he did that.
"I don't know," she whispers doubtfully, pulling away from me.
I take a deep breath when I see her lunge forward and throw herself into the water. She's trying to run away from me. But I'll be damned if I let her do it.
Not this time.
It's the first time I've been this close to her.