Ortega released her from his hold and gently cupped her cheek. This time, Sylvia didn't resist, only looking at him with dead eyes, dreading what he was going to ask of her.
"Let's be friends," he told her, his eyes bereft of emotion. "We're friends now." He played with her hair, twirling a curl around his finger. "Friends have secrets..." He withdrew his hand, his smile widening. "Their secrets stay within the friendship, strengthening the bond. Friends argue, fight, even blackmail each other..."
His smile took on a sinister edge. "But in the end, they reconcile. Misunderstandings are cleared, and they make promises to one another. Sylvia,"
Ortega's smile began to waver as Sylvia's brows shot up in surprise; he had never called her by her name.
"Promise me you won't tell anyone," he said, his tone turning severe. "About... all this. And you'll have my word, I won't hand your ass over to the police. If you don't betray me..."
"I promise." Sylvia blurted, overwhelmed with relief. "I promise."
"... Good." Ortega said, making his way past Sylvia and inserting the key to unlock the door.
"Wait." Sylvia called out in a hushed tone. Ortega turned around, his hand resting on the doorknob.
"You'll keep your word, right? You won't show it to the police?" she asked desperately.
"...Enjoy the flowers, doc." Ortega said, his voice dripping with dark amusement before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him, purposefully dropping the keys to the ground.
Becky rushed up to him with a panicked expression. "Have you seen my keys? I think they fell off somewhere." Her tone was urgent.
Ortega wore a slight frown. "What are you talking about? They're right between your legs." He pointed out, earning a blush from the nurse as she looked down and found the keys lying on the ground between her legs. She gave a bashful chuckle and picked up the keys.
"Strange, how come I didn't notice? Thanks, by the way. So, how was it?"
Ortega's face twitched for a split-second as his features morphed into a cheerful expression.
"Splendid! We talked, laughed, and now, guess what?" He looked at her with energetic eyes.
"Go on." Becky smiled expectantly.
"We're friends!" he cheered.
"No way..." Becky couldn't believe it.
"Yes way." Ortega smugly said, "Ask her if you don't believe me." He excused himself, then marched to the restroom; he really needed to empty his bladder.
Becky watched Ortega with a wondrous expression as he left. It was hard to imagine Sylvia getting all buddy-buddy with a guy.
She turned, faced the door, and knocked.
She was curious, if not excited, to find out for real if a friendship existed between her boss and Ortega, Sylvia's charming patient.
***
Inside the clinic, Sylvia stared at the door, her body trembling. Ortega's words echoed in her mind, each syllable laced with venom. Her relief was short-lived, quickly replaced by a gnawing sense of dread. She knew she couldn't trust him, but she had no choice.
Ortega's manipulation had dug deep into her psyche, leaving her feeling trapped and powerless. The reality of her situation sank in, and she slumped to the floor, tears streaming down her face.
Her lab coat was wrinkled, her makeup smeared, and her once composed demeanor shattered.
Outside, Ortega's encounter with Becky played out with chilling normalcy. He hid his true nature behind a mask of charm and ease, expertly manipulating the situation to his advantage.
His act was flawless, his control over the narrative unshakable.
As Becky knocked on the door, Sylvia's heart raced. She knew she had to maintain the facade, but the weight of Ortega's threats bore down on her.
She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, knowing that any sign of weakness could be disastrous.
Becky's voice was cheerful. "Sylvia, it's Becky. Are you okay? Ortega said you guys are friends now. Is that true?"
Sylvia forced herself to stand, her legs feeling like lead. She wiped her tears and took a moment to steady her breathing before opening the door.
She put on a strained smile, hoping it would be convincing enough.
"Yes, Becky," Sylvia said, her voice trembling slightly. "We're friends now."
Becky beamed. "That's great to hear! Ortega seemed really happy about it."
Sylvia nodded, but her mind was elsewhere, replaying Ortega's words and the implicit threat behind them. She knew she was walking a tightrope, and one misstep could send her plummeting into the abyss.
As she closed the door behind Becky, Sylvia felt the cold grip of fear tightening around her heart. Ortega's parting words, "Enjoy the flowers, doc," lingered ominously in her mind.
She knew that the so-called friendship was a fragile truce, one that could shatter at any moment.
Sylvia's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her phone buzzing. She glanced at the screen and saw an unknown number. Her hand trembled as she answered the call, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Hello?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Hello, Dr. Sylvia," the voice on the other end was calm, measured, and unmistakably familiar.
It was Ortega!
"Just a friendly reminder. Remember our promise."
The call ended abruptly, leaving Sylvia staring at her phone in stunned silence. She realized with chilling clarity that Ortega was watching her every move, and there was no escape from his manipulative grip.
The suspense was suffocating, and Sylvia knew that her life would never be the same. She was ensnared in Ortega's web, a pawn in his twisted game, and the flowers he mentioned felt like the mocking harbingers of her own downfall.
As the reality of her predicament set in, Sylvia vowed to find a way out, no matter the cost. She couldn't let Ortega control her life, but for now, she had to play along, biding her time until she could turn the tables on him.
The clinic's walls seemed to close in on her, the soundproofing now a cruel reminder of her isolation.
Sylvia's mind raced with possibilities, her determination growing with each passing second. She would fight back, she had to. For her own sake, and for the sake of her sanity.
Ortega's laughter echoed in her mind, a haunting reminder of the battle she was about to face.
The ending was far from written, and Sylvia was determined to rewrite her own story, no matter how dangerous the path ahead.