Louis was used to seeing Alicia calm and collected, so seeing her in this state was a new experience for him. He found it strangely fascinating and playfully retorted, "You crawled into bed with me, and I couldn't push you away."
Alicia's cheeks flushed red, and she protested, "No way!"
Louis chuckled, "Next time, I'll have to capture it on camera, so you can't deny it."
Alicia cringed and turned away, quickly grabbing her shirt from the nightstand and clumsily trying to put it on.
As Louis watched her dress, he couldn't help but think about the night before when she had tossed and turned in her sleep, curled up in a ball and shivering. He had held her close and comforted her, but he had heard her whispering the name "Chuck" repeatedly in her sleep. When he had asked her about it, she had avoided the question, leaving him with the gnawing feeling that she was in love with someone else.
Louis felt a sharp pang of humiliation at the thought that Alicia might be secretly pining for another man. He couldn't bear to hear her confess to it, as it would only add to his feelings of shame.
He checked his watch and realized he might not be back until late that night. "Can you explain things to Grandma for me? I'll be back pretty late tonight. Give her any excuse you need," he asked Alicia.
Alicia's hand paused mid-button, knowing he was off to the hospital to be with Madelyn. She felt humiliated and hurt, like a needle had just pricked her heart. After a moment of silence, she finally replied, "I'll handle it. I'm sorry you have to go through this."
Louis gave her a meaningful look, "I should be the one apologizing."
After breakfast, the estate driver took Alicia to Oddities of Time for another day of work.
Later that evening, Alicia received a call from her driver. "Mrs. Martinez, my car got hit and I'm stuck on the side of the road waiting for the police. Can you grab a cab back?" he said.
Concerned for the driver, Alicia grabbed her bag and left the shop. As she turned the corner, two sketchy-looking men blocked her path. One of them spoke up. "Alicia Martinez, right? We need your help restoring an antique painting."
Alicia eyed the men suspiciously, noting their sunglasses and strong odor. She felt uneasy and asked, "Where to?"
"We'll pay you top dollar for your expertise. Just come with us," the other man chimed in.
But his friend cut him off, "Quit the small talk. Let's just take her."
Alicia tried to run, but they grabbed her arm and pulled her into a parked black sedan. As the car started, the man rifled through her bag and found her phone.
"Call your family and tell them you're going away with friends for a few days," he ordered as he blindfolded her with a black cloth.
Alicia briefly considered calling Louis, but knew he was at the hospital with Madelyn and couldn't help her. So she dialed her mother's number and said, "Mom, I'm going on a trip with friends for a few days. Remember to take your diabetes medication..."
Before she finished her sentence, the man snatched her phone and turned it off. Then he took out a black cloth and blindfolded Alicia.
The car seemed to drive for a long time before finally stopping. Alicia was led into an old building, climbing stairs to the third floor. They opened the door, and Alicia saw a large red table in the middle with a safe on it. One of the men opened the safe, took out the painting and placed it on the table.
The painting was old, about a meter and a half long, and badly damaged with many parts missing. Alicia closely examined the painting and saw it was a portrait of a beautiful and alluring young woman. Despite the wear and tear, the brushstrokes and composition were still striking, and she could almost see the artist's intent in each stroke.
After taking a good look at the painting, Alicia finally confirmed that the author was John Vernez, one of the greatest portrait painters of all time, whose works were worth millions of dollars. No wonder the two men went to such great lengths to bring her here.
Considering that they didn't want her to restore the painting in her shop, it was clear that this painting had an illicit origin, possibly stolen from somewhere.
One of the men asked, "Mrs. Martinez, how long will it take to restore the painting?"
Alicia thought for a moment and replied, "The painting is quite large, severely damaged, and some parts are already missing, so it will take at least two weeks."
The man nodded and said, "Okay, what tools and materials do you need? Write them down, and we'll get them for you."
Alicia wrote down the materials and handed the list to the men. They took it and said, "We'll go get these things. You rest well."
As soon as they left, Alicia locked the door. She looked around and saw that the room had a bathroom, a bed, a table, chairs, and food, clearly prepared in advance.
Outside the window, she could see the rugged and desolate landscape of the mountains, with sporadic lights in the distance, indicating that they were far from the city.
Alicia's stomach growled, so she opened a packet of smacks, took a few bites, drank some water, and then went to bed. The silence was so deafening that she couldn't fall asleep.
I'm missing. Will Louis even care about me? she asked herself.
Doubtful, she answered herself.
He's too busy worrying about Madelyn. Maybe he's still at the hospital with her.
Alicia's heart ached as she thought of Madelyn's attempted suicide, and Louis's frantic scramble to save her life. The thought of Louis's devotion to Madelyn only deepened her own sense of humiliation.
She couldn't sleep, so she got up to go to the bathroom and overheard some noise outside. She listened intently, hearing one of the men mutter, "Jackson, what are you doing?"
Jackson whispered, "Jeasus, you scared the hell out of me, Karl. I couldn't get a wink of sleep, so I came to see the chick. You think she can actually restore our painting? It's worth a big fortune, and if she screws it up, Boss will make us pay."
"No worries, I checked her out," Karl replied. "Her grandpa is a master restorer, Pierre Valdez. She learned everything she knows from him, and rumor has it that she did most of his work in his late years."
"Got it," Jackson grinned wickedly. "But I won't lay a hand on her until after she fixes the painting. Damn, she's too cute, with that alabaster skin and those dewy eyes. I'm itching all over."
"Got it," Karl repeated. "But you'd better keep your mitts off until the job's done."
Alicia felt repulsed by the lecherous men. She heard their footsteps fade away and tried the door, but it was locked, and she lacked the means to pick the lock.
She peeked out the window and saw that she was on the third floor with a big dog in the yard. If she tried to run, the hound would bark, so she prayed someone would come to her aid.
While talking to her mom over the phone, Alicia casually reminded her to take her medication which doesn't exist, signaling that she was in danger. She prayed that Genevieve would catch on.
Alicia spent the next three days cleaning and restoring the painting, awaiting the arrival of the materials she had requested. She worked nonstop, growing increasingly jittery as the deadline drew near. Each night, she lay awake, with Jackson prowling around her door.
Just when she was nodding off, a clamor of barks and pounding feet startled her out of slumber. She scrambled to dress.
The door creaked open, and Karl yanked her arm, rushing her away, as Jackson swiped the painting. At the entrance, a mass of people stormed up the stairs, led by a striking, mysterious man, all dressed in black with piercing eyes. It was Louis, and he was trailed by a squad of heavily armed cops.
Trembling, Alicia gazed at Louis, scarcely believing her eyes, and whispered, "Louis, is that really you?"
He replied, striding towards her, "Yes, it's me." But Karl brandished a knife against her throat and barked, "Put down your guns and back off! Or I'll slit her throat!"
Alicia clenched her teeth, pained and fearful, with the cold blade nipping at her flesh.
Louis held his rage in check, fists balled, eyes smoldering with fury, and ordered, "Drop your guns and scatter!"
The cops hesitated, looking to Louis, before reluctantly relinquishing their weapons and edging away. Meanwhile, Jackson kicked the guns aside.
Karl pushed Alicia onto the windowsill, urging her to leap to safety.
She clung to the frame, quaking with dread, as the notion of jumping from the third floor to certain injury loomed large in her mind.
"Jump, damn it! You won't die!" Karl's patience wore thin as he grabbed her arm, dragging her to the brink.
A thunderous explosion shattered the quiet, and a bloodcurdling scream rent the night.