WARNING: This chapter contains triggering violence ahead! You have been warned!
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𝖝𝖎
THE CONFRONTATION
"NO ONE SHOULD know what happened here. Am I making myself clear?"
"Y-Yes, sir."
Celestine slowly peeled her droopy eyes open at the sound of the familiar voice. As she did, the ocean-painted ceiling of her room greeted her in a blur. She blinked, trying to sweep away the blurry white dots clouding her better vision.
Hollow footsteps could be heard somewhere, but she paid it no attention.
Head throbbing, Celestine tried to lift her left hand towards her pulsating temple when an electrifying pain shot through her arms and traveled throughout her body. She painfully winced and grunted at the mere movement.
Swearing under her breath, she tried to lift her hands again only to bit her bottom lip, eyes getting misty, as another bolt of pain thundered throughout her system.
Celestine was no stranger at this kind of stinging pain originating on her left wrist, wrapped in gauze with a small blood-red color staining the fabric. As much as she wanted to say that she already grew accustomed to seeing her either wrists bled until she passed out, she couldn't seem to. And as much as she wanted to just forget the root cause of it─the cause of self-harm─she just couldn't seem to. She couldn't.
She knew better that as long as she lived, this particular incident would reoccur all over again . . . until there was no more space in her body to engrave the art of her sheer guilt.
With misty eyes, she glanced down where she could spot faint shallow scars adorning her bare arms and wrists. They were indeed an unpleasant─hideous even─to look at, but for her, those were the constant reminder of the people she lost that night.
That night where I should have died instead of them.
Her insides started to feel like crumbling again as she pondered at the thought.
Tightly closing her eyes, she bit her quivering bottom lip harder this time. A lone tear escaped the side of her left eye, followed by another until her eyes seemed like falls after heavy rainfall. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably as she tried to muffle the impending cries threatening to burst out of her pale lips by covering her mouth with her right hand. She almost succeeded at the first few seconds, but Sumire's voice seemed to echo inside her head.
You were subject to a failed assassination.
Another wave of nauseating sensation seemed to slap her right in the face, and punch her gut. Her heart started to hammer wildly inside her chest as cold beads of sweat broke in every part of her body. Her chest started to abruptly fall up and down as she hiccup. She opened her mouth to gasp for air, trying to catch some decent amount of oxygen for her aching lungs but seemed to fail.
Bringing her fisted right hand towards her aching chest, she pounded it over and over again, not caring if it hurt already . . . until a firm hand seized it.
"Stop it. You're hurting yourself."
Through her misty vision, Celestine saw a blurry figure of a man standing by the left side of her bed, looking down at her. Her right wrist, suspended halfway towards its landing, was caged in his left hand.
His hard, strained voice also didn't leave unnoticed to her. Although he wasn't yelling, the weight and sharpness of every word he uttered were like a wake-up call that freed her from those destructive sensations.
Celestine blinked her tears away for few times, only to realize that it was a version of Lucas she had never seen before.
His ash gray hair was like a bird's nest. His long sleeves were seemingly abruptly rolled up in his elbows. Dark shadows were evident beneath his exhausted jade eyes as well. It seemed like he didn't get any proper sleep last night.
Gone was the bright smiling face of Lucas as it was replaced by a grim scowl. He seemed ready to choke her anytime with those furious darker shades of green eyes, piercing through her soul. His lips were drawn to a thin line, jaw was tightly clenched. She could also see veins popping out his neck and temple. Even his gentle yet firm hand seizing hers, too.
"L-Lucas?"
His brows knitted together. "It's I."
Celestine almost flinched at his cold, sharp tone. The Lucas before her now was a complete opposite of that one she knew─soft-spoken and bright. This Lucas had a sharp tongue and undeniably scary. This one seemed ready to eat her alive!
He was tossed off. She knew it in an instant. And for him to grasp her hand without even inflicting pain to her just showed how he had impeccable control over himself. Despite the raging emotion she could see in his eyes, he remained gentle handling her.
She was more than ready to fire away her apology but instantly held herself back upon remembering the last night's event. Anger started to swirl on her eyes as she scowled at him.
"Don't touch me," she ardently stated and forcefully pried her hands off his grasp.
A dark cloud seemed to loom over Lucas's head as he stared down at her. His glare intensified, but Celestine seemed to purposely ignore it as she turned her back to him, and brought the covers up until her neck.
A pang of pain assaulted his being at her behavior.
Lucas knew very well that she needed space at this excruciating crucial moment, and that meant living her alone for a while. He knew very well and was more than ready to give it to her when shit happened. That was the most common thing to do when the bomb finally found its landing last night. And like any other bombs, hers was one of a hell destructive.
Lucas frowned even more realizing how much he failed to anticipate the worst case to happen. He clucked his tongue. His knuckles turning white as he tightened his clenched, fingernails almost digging into his palms.
He miserably failed to predict Celestine's self-harming tendency. And that was his biggest mistake!
Had he knew, he could have prevented her earlier from harming herself. Had he knew, he wouldn't let Sumire got a chance to talk to her. Had he knew, he wouldn't let her attend that supposedly welcome party that was entirely just a facade for something else.
Had he knew . . . Had he knew . . .
But no, he didn't. And boy, he was extremely disappointed of himself!
"Please leave me alone, Lucas."
He grimly glared at the back of her head. Talking right now wasn't advisable to him. He knew that even he'd try his hardest not to sound harsh, the weight of his words would do the deed instead.
The dread that engulfed him last night as he found her unconscious in the bathroom's floor, pale as ghost and with bleeding wrist, was more than enough to stop the beating of his heart. Had he came later, he didn't know what do anymore.
"And then, what? You'll hurt yourself again? No."
He heard her sniffed, yet remained unmoving. "I want to be alone. Please, Lucas."
"No," he firmly stated in a heartbeat, "I apologize for my insensitivity, but I can't risk it. I'd rather hear you swearing at me than letting you off my eyes again. So, no."
He knew he was being inconsiderate . . . an ass even, but he couldn't just risk it!
Celestine's shoulders shook as she curled up in a fatal position. She didn't mind what Lucas would say about her. Hell . . . caring was the least of her concern at the moment!
"Why c-can't you just l-leave me alone?" Her lips trembled as tears welled up in her eyes yet again. It was almost a whisper sounding like a plea.
"'Cause I simply just can't."
Lucas' answer brought more tears in her eyes, snapping the invisible thread of her thin patience. The anger she kept in check burst out like a bubble as she abruptly sat up in the bed, and shot him a glare. Her eyes bloodshot.
"Why?" she spat. "Because you pity me? Because I'm some suicidal bitch you didn't expect of? Because you think I need someone to lean on? Because you think that makes me a freaking damsel in distress?" She harshly wiped off the tears in her cheeks, and continued without minding the dangerous aura Lucas was emitting as he glared back at her. "Bare this in mind, Lucas. You may be seeing a suicidal bitch right now in your eyes, but I don't need your goddamn pity. I'm mentally and emotionally fragile, yes, but that doesn't mean I'm weak." She fisted a handful of covers in her lap. "I'm. Not. Weak."
"Is that what you think?"
Celestine instinctively flinched and cringed yet again at his harsh tone. "Am I wrong?" she probed still burning holes in his skull.
"Terribly wrong," Lucas almost spat. "Listen here. I don't care if you think that lowly of me. I don't even care if you'd swear at me," he said in gritted teeth. "I'm here to ensure your safety and security. Hurting yourself isn't something I can permit as long as you're under my watch. And that synonymous to keeping you alive." His glare intensified. "At any cost, Celestine. At. Any. Cost."
She shuddered. Not because of the fact that Lucas called her by her name for the very first time, but because of the warning bells those words resonated.
"What do you mean by that?" Her throat gone dry. "Protect me from what? And why do you care?" she shouted the last question.
"Then tell me!" Lucas voice raised a bit as well, startling her. "Do you think they'd be glad to know that you were trying to end your life? The life they fought so hard to save even it cost their own? How selfish can you get?"
"Don't talk like you know me very well, Lucas," she snapped at him, fighting the hot tears welling up her eyes. "You don't have any idea how much I suffer after that night! You don't have the slightest idea how the guilt of me still living instead of Tessa and Stella pushes me to the brink of my sanity! You don't have any idea how much I wanted to follow after them! But every damn time I tried to, I always wake up the next day." She harshly wiped off the tears streaming down her cheeks, and clutched her left arm where the faint diagonal scars were showing.
"Do you think it's just a walk in a park living in a body that fights so damn hard to live, but with a mind that's already wanting you dead?" Her voice cracked. "D-Do you even have a-any i-idea how m-much it hurts me to b-breath every freaking second, knowing t-that my two b-bestfriend's are already six-feet under the ground because of me?" She shook her head. "Because of me, Lucas! Because of me they're dead!"
Lucas pursed his lips as he watched her broke to pieces in front of him. He wanted to cage her in his embrace and whisper soothing words in her ears; told her that no matter what happen, he would always be just behind her.
A little voice at the back of his head reprimanded him that it was his fault for pushing her limits. He fervently shook the thought away, reasoning to himself that if he didn't he was just prolonging what was ought to happen anyway.
Now that she knew, there were no more reason to hide everything from her. She needed to know. She had every right to know what she got herself into; of what kind of mess she unknowingly delved in. She had to know that she walked into a lion's den.
He waited for her to calm down a bit.
"And that's the reason why you're here," he gently said, walking over to the edge of her messy bed, and sat facing her. Fishing out a handkerchief in his pants' pocket, he brought it towards her wet cheeks and gently dabbed the tears. "You're here so we can protect you from those people who wanted you dead."
Celestine lifted her gaze, seemingly not bothered by his gesture. "Who? Who are they Lucas? Why did they want me dead? What did I do? Why am I here?"
Gone was the vulnerable glint in her eyes as her fiery brown orbs locked with his. He almost reveled at this sudden shift of mood. This was the Celestine he knew. The Celestine he pledged to protect before the generous man who took him in under his wings.
"First off," he started, retracting his hands, "the invitation you had received was fraud."
"So it really is a scam, then?"
Lucas almost burst out laughing. "No, milady. It's not." He waited for any response from her. When she remained listening, he continued, "That invitation was actually just a bait to get you here in your own volition prior to the instruction given to us by the owner of Esotera Court."
"It's partially a scam, then," she stated, eyes squinting at him. "I knew it."
Laughing wasn't an appropriate act at the moment, Lucas knew as he purposely brought his handkerchief towards her puffy eyes, covering it, under sheer pretense of drying her tears. In which in fact just a move to conceal the twitching of his lips upwards. He cleared his throat, giving her the handkerchief.
"That's all I can say, milady." His lips were now set into a straight grim line. "I'm not in a position to tell you everything."
Lucas saw how it brought frustration to her. Her pale face flushed again as it contorted to a frown.
"Then who the hell can tell me?" she yelled spreading her arms. "If not you who? Oren? The manager?" A glint of recognition past his eyes. "It's the manager, isn't it?"
He didn't answer.
"Damn it, Lucas! Just please tell me!"
Lucas took a deep breath. "Acting with clouded mind only makes things worst. If you'd like to know the naked truth, I suggest you clear your mind first, milady." He stood up, smoothing his creased ivory sleeves. "That's all I can tell you."
LUCAS FINALLY LEFT Celestine after few more grueling hours of stubbornness. Well, not after he made her swore not to do anything stupid. She did . . . mentally crossing her fingers, of course.
Celestine stared hard at the wooden oak door with a golden placard beyond the doorframe inscribed with the word Manager in a fancy letters, similar to that of the handwritten invitation she had received a few days ago.
She tugged down the long sleeves of her black blouse, almost wincing as she grazed by accident her left bandaged wrist securely hidden underneath . . . from everyone's sight.
Briefly rolling her tongue in her dry lips, she gulped and wiped her clammy palms on her navy blue skinny jeans. Her eyes fell to her dark flat shoes with laced ribbon on its roof. As she did, her wavy shoulder length hair fell to either side of her round pale face.
She took a series of deep breaths and reached out for the golden knob, but instantly halted and retracted her hands to her side.
Finding the manager's office wasn't an easy feat. She had to search at every vast floor which almost took her two hours, only to give up and finally asked the elevator lady who was starting to get confused every single time she'd step in the lift after a rigorous search of each floor.
And alas! Here she was in the seventh floor, standing before the oak door with a Greek lady playing a harp engraved at the surface.
She didn't even knew that there was another floor above the sixth floor where she stayed. It had only been three days since her arrival on Esotera Court so it was just normal. Only three freaking days, and here she was ready to headbutt with the hotel's manager, Victor Ferriera.
If Lucas found out her rash action, she would surely get an earful of sermons from him. He made her even promise in which she instantly broke without batting of eyes.
She shook her head at the thought. She never expected that she'd get to see him mad . . . at her. She'd never thought he even knew what mad even meant! Guess she was so wrong. Terribly wrong.
She snapped at him. She wanted to say her apologies, but her pained inside refused to do so.
The man knew a lot about her; the reason why she was subjected to an assassination, and was actually her aide to keep her safe and secured to whatever or whoever hooligans wanted her dead.
But why? What did I do?
The corner of her eyes started to heat up at the thought. If she was indeed the main target of that night's incident, then Tessa and Stella truly died because of her. Because of her fault.
The blames she earned from their relatives that almost sent her to a mental asylum were indeed true.
And I don't have any right to prove my innocence.
She was at fault. It was her fault all along.
"What brought you here, Miss Vasquez?"
Celestine's shoulders tensed up as she instinctively jumped off her feet, swearing in the process, at the sudden gruff voice coming from behind. Her hands flew to clutch the wild hammering of her right chest. With a stiffed neck, she turned around.
"Don't scare me like that!" She couldn't help but yelled at the man she saw. "You almost give me a heart attack!"
It was a well-built tall tan man with bald head. She almost took a step back as she saw his ripped chest and muscled-pack arms bulging on his casual plain white t-shirt. The fact that he was also just wearing a camouflage shorts and pair of olive green havainnas slippers gave her the impression of his laid back personality. If she would calculate, the man might be in his early or mid forties.
The man looked at her indifferently with one of his thick brows twitched upward. His plump blacken lips were now pursed. "My apologies, Miss Vasquez, but I was already repeating myself all over again and you didn't respond."
Celestine fought not to flinch on her spot yet again at how this tall tan man's gruff voice sounded. It was low and rough. The kind of voice suitable to scare away kids. And the sharpness of his raven eyes didn't help at all. She was tempted to just walk out without even looking back. But she stood her ground even though this man seemed wanting to eat her alive . . . or tossed her out of the window. Or maybe worst.
"R-Really? I . . . uh . . ." Her eyes flickered on the DSLR camera hanging around his neck. Glancing to her right side, she cleared her throat. "I was lost in my train of thoughts. Sorry if I didn't hear you first."
"I was just kidding, Miss Vasquez. I only called you once," the man said, coughing with one fisted hand covering his lips.
A frown automatically made its way to her face. "And now you're trying to crack a joke? Am I supposed to laugh now?"
The man shrugged his shoulders unaware of the sarcasm lacing her words. "Whatever that makes you happy, Miss Vasquez." He spun on his heels, ready to saunter on the empty left hallway when Celestine called him out yet again.
"Wait!" The man looked over his shoulders, one brows quirked upward. "Is the manager inside?" She jabbed her thumb over her shoulders, pointing to the oak door.
The man followed where she was pointing at and clucked his tongue as his gaze fell back to her after taking a glimpse on his silver wristwatch, strapped at his right hand.
"He is," he confirmed. "Whatever business you have with him, I suggest you to make it quick before twelve noon strikes." He made a long face. "He's very particular about noon break, and that's less than," he glanced back again at his wristwatch, "eight minutes from now. Hurry up, Miss Vasquez!" He started walking away, waving a hand back at her. His gruff voice seemed to resonate in the empty hallway.
Celestine found herself absentmindedly waving back at him. She immediately caught herself and frowned.
Turning her attention back to the oak door, she brought her balled right hand against the surface and knocked thrice. A small voice urging her to come inside caught her ears in response.
Twisting the knob, she pushed it forward revealing a man between his mid or late thirties with eyeglasses, behind a mahogany desk. Behind him was a ceiling to floor glass window with maroon curtains pushed to either sides.
The man was busy typing something on the silver white laptop in front of him, and only lifted his gaze the moment the door closed behind her.
"Ah, Miss Vasquez! What brought you here?"
Celestine briefly glanced at his disorganized desk filled with stack of papers on the right side, and a tower of thick books on the left. Her eyes darted back to the man behind the desk who was now waiting for her response. It was the same man who welcomed them yesterday and the one who had sent her the invitation letter─Victor Ferriera, Esotera Court's manager.
"Lucas told me."
Victor hummed as he reached out for the white mug of coffee on the right side of the table. Taking a sip, he settled it down again to its place, and faced her; leaning forward, propping his elbow against the table's surface, and clasping his hands under his chin.
"Care to be specific, Miss Vasquez?"
A chill creeped at the back of her spine as he flashed a smile at her. It was the same unnerving smile that he used to greet them in the buffet hall; warm and inviting yet oddly emitting coldness somewhere in between.
Celestine gulped as she locked eyes with his scrutinizing chinky ones.
It's now or never, Celestine.
"That the invitation letter you sent was fake, and just a bait to make me come here." Her gaze sharpened when Victor nonchalantly nodded his head and sat back, waiting . . . listening. "He said someone wants me dead that's why I'm here." A lump formed in her throat. "I-Is that true?"
Somehow, Celestine wanted to hear him say no. 'Cause if it was the opposite, she was sure as hell that she might not accept how her two bestfriends died because of her. The guilt of living a life she robbed from them was too much to take. This time, she might really end up in a mental asylum.
"So you knew already."
Her heart seemed to momentarily stopped its beating as it sank to her stomach. An overwhelming sensation revolted in her chest, enough to make her retched.
Victor blew a deep breath through his mouth as he massaged his forehead. "Well, that's a relief. We no longer have to pretend for your sake."
"W-What?" Her brows furrowed at what she heard. "Pretend for my sake? What the heck are you talking about?" she almost exclaimed.
Shrugging his shoulders, the side of Victor's lips curled up, showing a small dimple in his cheeks. "Your aide, Lucas Zarek, is right, Miss Vasquez." He partially turned his swivel chair sideward, looking through the ceiling to floor glass window. "Someone," he chuckled, shaking his head at the word, "wants you dead. Indeed, that's the main reason why you're here." He craned his head towards her, eyes giving off a glint of malice. "Is that all he had told you?"
Grimly nodding, she bobbed her head up and down which in return emulated by Victor.
"I see," he thoughtfully said and mumbled. "Subservient as always, Lucas."
Celestine couldn't help but frown at Victor's last words. For some reason, she was reminded by the odd behavior Lucas and the rest of the aides acted back in the buffet hall. And now, she somehow had a hint why.
This man sees them lowly. Like pawns to a king.
Celestine didn't realize she was already shooting glares at his direction until Victor spoke again.
"At ease, Miss Vasquez. I'm not your enemy here."
"Then who?" She almost spat.
Crossing his legs, Victor placed his hands over his knees. "If truth is what you seek, Miss Vasquez, a huge payment is needed. A payment no one would gladly pay for," his lips tugged to a devious smile that almost sent goosebumps all over her skin, "not if you're desperate enough, at least."
"W-What kind of p-payment?"
Victor chuckled catching the tremble in her voice. "Payment is one thing. The real question here is . . . " A glint of amusement danced in his eyes. "How far would you go to achieve a goal, Miss Vasquez? That's what I've wanted to know."
Celestine's mind had gone blank for a fraction of second at his question. Warning bells were frantically ringing nonstop inside her head as she pondered at the question threw on her.
Her mind travelled back to the place she resided before coming to Esotera Court, thoughtfully thinking of the people and things that could possibly affected by the reckless decision she was about to make. She deliberated with her inner self; attentively listening to the little voice desperately yelling at her no.
How far would I go to uncover the truth behind their death?
Her mouth slightly parted as the answer to her question lingered on her mind. Her breathing temporarily stopped as it echoed inside her head. And before she could even think further, words rolled out on her tongue like a venom dripping to its leaking container.
"Anything. I'm willing to do anything."
A triumphant smile carved to Victor's bright face. "Excellent, Miss Vasquez! With all means . . ." His eyes seemed to sparkle in delight as he clapped his hands together and rose from his leather swivel chair, smoothing his dark coat in the process.
She waited in anticipation. And when it came, the floor seemed to sway in her feet at his next enthusiastic words.
"Please die, then."
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"No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us."
(Romans 8:37)