Sharmaine opened her eyes. Her body felt worse but somehow comfy on the vintage bed. "What happened?" she muttered. She jerked up to find herself in an unfamiliar room. It was neither dark nor bright, and the interior seemed very vintage and eye pleasing. Did she just travel back time?
A man entered her room, who held a tray with food, water and medicine. "I did not expect to see you at the party with your real identity."
Sharmaine's eyes broadened up even more, launching herself back and accidentally hitting the headboard. Her clothes had changed into a pair of pink pajamas, and every inch of her body tingled. She curled her arms around her with a terrified expression.
"Don't panic, the maid changed your clothes. Not me." The man sat beside her and plopped the tray on the bedside table. He handed her the medicine which she did not receive. "Aren't you in pain?" he asked, but she shook her head with a dazed expression.
He sighed. "You have to drink this." He placed the pill in her mouth without hesitation, then drunk the glass of water—not swallowing it.
"Open your mouth." He drew her closer abruptly, making their lips touch. He pushed the water inside towards hers and eventually she swallowed the pill. He lifted his lips away while the remaining water in Sharmaine's mouth drooled out. Her eyes were frozen, unable to process what happened and what had just happened.
"W-Where am I?"
"You're in my apartment, precisely in my nanny's room."
"Nanny? What are you, a child?"
"Mind your own business."
Her mind was still unable to process what was happening, until she felt a slight tingle on her left arm; a bandage was wrapped around it with a patch of blood in the middle. Suddenly, the sequence of events flooded her mind—she wanted to confront Shaine but ended up fainting.
Still, even though her body ached, her face was expressionless—the feeling of pain was something that she endured for the majority of her lifetime whether it was physically or emotionally.
"Where is Shaine?" she asked, placing her knees in front of her chest.
The man spoke, "She's sleeping on the other room."
"She slept?"
"We gave her pills."
A sigh of relief came out of Sharmaine. Her life almost came to an end if he wasn't around. Her eyes fell on the mirror beside the bed. She saw herself—a woman full of cuts and scratches.
"Nanny applied ointment on you. Those won't scar, well, the light ones, she said."
He glanced towards her and saw how she covered her chest using her legs. "Give it up, I already know it."
The fact that someone else knew her identity fazed her. At that moment, it was already useless to escape or to think of an excuse. She lowered her defense—her legs—and shifted them to the back.
"D-Did you tell Denzel?"
Their eyes met, but no words escaped his mouth. The answer might be what she had not hoped for. She used all her remaining strength to stand up and grasp his collar. "Hey, did you tell Denzel?"
His eyes were filled with menace. "Tell him what exactly?" He was making her say it. Forcefully.
"That I am a woman." Still, no words escaped his mouth, so she shook him violently, "Did you say it?!"
He shifted his gaze away from her. She began feeling weak. "Why aren't you saying anything?"