The next time she woke up she really wished she had not. Her head was paining and it felt like someone was hammering nails into it because there were times when one spot was more than the other.
She sniffed loudly before stretching but that only made her pain worsen, it only made her curl herself into a fetal position.
It. Only. Worsened.
Having done with the pain she knew she had to get up which is why she opened her eyes but found herself in an entirely different room. She sprang up from the bed and analysed the room.
The high quality silk sheets that she was lying on along with the queen size bed magnificent bed and from the curtains to the very dekho of the room. There was also a small sitting area in the room along with a huge TV.
She was obviously not at her house, instead she was at the Miller Mansion.
She frowned as she held her head in her hands. What happened last night? Had Christian brought her to his house?
She sniffed slightly and took the covers of her as she made her way to the bathroom. She turned on the light immediately illuminating the room and making everything visible only to stop at what she saw in the mirror.
Her fingers ran over the marks on her throat as she stepped closer to the mirror not believing what she was seeing.
There were hand prints on her neck. Even her arms had bruises on them. Who was holding her? Christian. . .. he could have been this rough . . .
"What happened last night?" She found herself whispering. She never had this kind of headache before. These bruises. . . They were the tattletail signs of something that she did not want to be a part of or even imagine it.
She went ahead and took a bath. Somehow she described herself harder than ever as she wanted to take the hands of whomever it was off of her.
She found the clothes on the chair. They had been friends for so long that she had a few clothes in Christian's closet. He must have given her a pair.
She combed her hair and stared at herself in the mirror. She wanted to find out what happened and the clothes did not do the best job at hiding the marks in her neck. She realised that with the handprints there were also something else there. Hickeys.
She finally gained enough courage to move down. When she did, she found no one but their Butler over there.
"Hi Carson, " she wished him only for the man to give her a small hint of a smile.
"Good morning, Ms. Russo." He wished and held out a dining chair for her, "I believe Mr Miller would be late in attending to you. You shall have your breakfast first."
Grace took the seat as she scowled at what Mr Carson had told her.
Mr. Miller was attending to her? Christian was the one who was called master Miller.
"Carson, where is Christian? Is he not awake yet? Do you want me to go and wake him up?" Grace asked. Christian her always woken up by the time she had, whenever she stayed over. They always had breakfast together.
It felt weird to be eating and his house when he was absent.
"I would not recommend it madam." She frowned. Carson had never turned down the opportunity of having Christian when woken up on time.
"Why?" She couldn't help but ask. "He can't sleep for that long. It's already around 11 in the morning."
Carson shook his head. "I cannot say it madam. Please," he pointed to the breakfast play that he had kept in front of her, "have your breakfast and ring the bell if there is anything that you want."
He walked away and her eyes followed him as he disappeared into the kitchen for the chef.
What was happening?