#Chapter62
It was hazy like she was sleeping in the arms of clouds, eyes fogged by white mist and body felt feeble. Her thoughts were quite muddled while she could not process her mind to remind her what had happened and what was happening.
Why was she feeling so exhausted?
Madonna’s vision cleared slowly as she rubbed her eyes thoroughly and only when her vision was clear was when she felt the stinging pain on her palm. Her one hand was feeling heavy with the palm gashed surrounded by dried liquid of the blood.
/"Good day. I see you finally chose to wake up./" Madonna heard a very familiar voice filled with amusement. Her eyes darted to the source of the voice and found him sitting on her desk with a mug of steaming liquid in his hands.
His stance was relaxed as he took a sip of the steaming liquid with a consistent show of a smirk on his lips. She realized she was sleeping on the floor on her rugged carpet.
