Chapter 9 – Marielle #2
“When I’m 20, he and Uncle Max will give me money to open my own restaurant. I also have money that I’ve saved from my salary all these years. I don’t buy many things. So, I’ll use that to hire other chefs.”
“That’s great.”
She nodded, smiling.
“It’s ready,” Agatha announced. “Marielle, go wait in the dining room. I’ll bring yours.”
“Why? I’ll eat here.”
“This isn’t the American food you’re used to. It’s a bit spicy. The kitchen is too hot,” she answered.
“Okay.”
I thought of taking the seat at the head of the table just to see what Eduard’s men would say. But, instead, I sat in the first seat to the left.
Agatha brought the food to the table, filling my plate.
“Thank you.”
“I’m sure you’ll like it.”
And I did.
I was savoring the delicacy when I saw a shadow move past my chair.
I knew it was Eduard before looking up.
He claimed the chair at the head of the table.
He looked every bit the powerful industrialist in a black tailored suit and black shirt. His hair was even more tousled than it usually was, with a few locks falling to his right eyebrow.
“Sir, I didn’t…” Agatha started to explain as she came out of the kitchen.
“It’s fine. I’ll eat here,” he answered, his voice cool as ever.
“Okay, sir. One minute.”
As she disappeared into the kitchen, I became more aware of the closeness between Eduard and me. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.
His jaw was tighter, and his eyes looked straight ahead.
Why does that make me curious?
Agatha came back, and in seconds, he was eating.
“Marielle,” he suddenly spoke, more like singing my name. “I see you’re in no mood for conversation today.”
I took a slow sip of water, ignoring his gaze on me.
“Good morning to you, too,” I replied, my tone terse.
His eyes were back on his food, and he said nothing until I left the dining room.
Not that it made my heart fall.
I was angry for most of the day.
I was tired of the whole stupid situation.
I was tired of the endless stares from Eduard’s men. I was tired of Eduard’s one-sentence conversations.
Later that night, my thoughts from the previous night visited me again.
Agatha, Sofia, or even Eduard might not have a choice.
I had a choice to try to leave this place.
And try, I would. With my last breath.
***
Since I decided to find my way out, I had been actively gathering information about the mansion, which I found out was just a part of a whole estate.
From asking Agatha subtle questions about the exterior of the building to listening more attentively to his men whenever they talked, I was getting ready.
But there was no open window for me to escape.
Until this morning.
I was in the hallway when I heard two of Eduard’s men rush down the stairs, talking about all of them having to gather for something.
My brain connected with my legs, and I took the stairs on the other side, the one that led to the back of the house. I didn’t have the time to change out of my yellow dress with spaghetti straps or even get footwear.
The rain landed on my skin in angry pelts, but I couldn’t care less about it as I raced away from the back door of the house. The storm raged as I ran, but all I felt was the taste of freedom. I ran through the garden, and not even the wet sand on the floor could impede me.
I looked ahead, searching for the gates to see how close—or far—I was to escaping. The outer gates stood proudly just a few feet away from me. Excitement pumped my adrenaline as I ran faster.
A strong grip on my arm stopped me in my tracks. The powerful arm pulled me back from the gates.
It was Eduard.
Fucking Eduard.
My brain went haywire.
“Let me go!” I screamed as he extended his grip to my middle, holding me tight to himself. “What am I here for?”
I continued to struggle. “Leave me alone, you psycho!” Then, I added, “You callous, heartless, cold son-of-a-bitch!”
I tugged and clawed at his arm with all my strength. He didn’t budge or make a sound. Desperate, I shouted, fought, and shoved as the rain beat down mercilessly on both of us. My throat itched with all my screams that the rain swallowed up.
There’s no escape.
Not today.
I became silent, my pounding heart the only movement in my body.
Only then did he move.
He lifted me, carrying me toward the house.
He went up the stairs that led to my room and went further. Then we were entering a large room.
His room.
When he put me down in the bathroom, I shivered like a leaf, my teeth chattering.
I could almost feel my heart in my mouth when his hands touched the hem of my dress. His eyes stayed on mine as he lifted the dress over my head. He didn’t look below my face.
He took a white towel from a drawer beside him and wrapped it around me. Holding the thick towel close to my body, I looked up at him.
The shivers running through my body had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with his unexpected actions. My chest tightened as his gentle care washed over me.
When the yelling and outburst I expected still didn’t come, I blurted out, “Why?”
“Why what?” he asked.
“Why did you hurt me? Or…or do anything?”
A sincere look crossed his features as he looked away and then at me.
“Hurting you won’t do me any good,” he muttered.
Swallowing softly, I left his room.
I paced the length of my room, his words echoing in my mind. The look on his face shook me to the core. It looked like…surrender.
But that wasn’t the only look that haunted me.
When he gripped me, he looked at me like I wasn’t just a hostage escaping. The rain couldn’t conceal how he looked at me like someone who mattered.
I groaned in frustration as I thought of how I felt about all of it.
A part of me didn’t want him to let me go.
Oh, no.