That night I didn't even realize I had fallen asleep in the morning. I woke up with a feeling that something was wrong. And it was, he was in the room opening the curtains. I sat up straight and a bit sleepy said:
" I need to go to the bathroom. Take the handcuffs off." I said with a piece of annoyance and madness at him. This person kidnapped me for no reason.
"Just a second." He said turning around from curtains and facing me going towards and unlocking the handcuffs, then leading me to the nearest bathroom, closing the door after I entered it.
"I should find something that is gonna help me get out of this place."I thought and began searching the bathroom for anything that could help. But I didn't find anything. I felt hopeless and useless because of the situation I was in. The whole thing is weird…"Well,I have no other choice than just doing what I'm supposed to in the bathroom..." I sighed and decided to just do what I needed to do. I washed my face, the water was warm and then cold and refreshing. After I dried it with a towel, then stepped out of the bathroom.
" I need to act like everything is alright, so I get more chances of surviving." I thought. "But will I be alive till that moment?"
"Hey... can I use one of those toothbrushes? There are two of them. Which one is yours?"I said looking at his dark eyes.
"The black one is mine."
"Got it," I said briefly and went back to finish the rest of my morning routine.
I went out and sat on the bed making a big sad sight.
"So, are you going to answer any of my questions?"
"Ask." He answered short with his deep voice.
"For how long are you planning to keep me here like this?"I looked down and then up to his eyes again.
"Forever." He said it like it was a regular thing.
I quickly got up from the bed and shouted:
"What?! What the hell do you mean?!"
"No swearing." he calmly replied.
"YOU!! Do you even realize what you're saying?!" I was angry and furious, but I remembered I needed to stay calm for safety reasons. Before I realized what was happening, my hand was locked to the bed again.
"I'm going to work again. Don't even think about doing anything strange. You'll only hurt yourself."
"HEY! We're not done talking..." I started, but he was already out of the room.
"I need to stay calm..." I thought. If he's giving me all this free time, it means he wants me to do something with it. But I won't do what he says.
I started rummaging through the cabinets above the bed but found nothing. Except for a few fruits on the table that I hadn't noticed before.
"Well, at least I won't starve to death... Thanks for that..." I muttered to myself and kept looking for anything useful. I tried to unlock the handcuffs, but they wouldn't budge.
"I think I should just give up..." He's too smart to try to fool him.
I took the book he'd given me earlier and started flipping through it.|
"It's boring..." I said quietly to myself, starting to fall asleep. "Agh..."
"Wake up," I heard a voice right in front of me. I quickly sat up and asked,
"Wha... What? What's wrong?"
"First, we're going to eat. And then... we'll study. To put it briefly, you need to learn how to shoot," he said quickly and seriously. He removed the handcuffs and, as usual, grabbed my hand, leading me somewhere without letting me say a word.
"Do you really have to grab my hand every time we go somewhere? I'm not even trying to escape!"
"Yes, I don't trust you yet. Or... maybe I'm just looking for a reason to touch your hand...))" he said with a slight smirk, continuing to walk and firmly holding my hand. I tried to pull my hand away, but it was no use.
"Do you prefer to eat in the kitchen or the restaurant?"
"Oh! I finally have a choice!" I exclaimed. He gave a small smirk and said,
"So, which of the two?)" His smirk turned into a light smile. "That's your 'whatever you want' answer, you know."
"Alright, then the kitchen. The next stop will be closer—it's right below us. But we'll talk about that later. For now, focus on what you want to eat. Just tell the chef, and he'll cook it for you."
"Alright," I said and started talking to the chef. "Uh... I don't have any allergies or preferences. Just make something edible, please."
"Yes, ma'am," the chef replied and started cooking. I sat at the table and waited for the food.
I saw him cleaning his gun and couldn't stop myself from asking who he was.
"Who are you? Like... your job. What do you do?"
His eyes darkened, and the little smirk, as always, disappeared.
"Why do you want to know? Do you have a reason for asking, or are you just curious? The fact that you're interested in me is already... satisfying," he said with a smirk.
I ignored his attempt to flirt and kept talking.
"No, no, I'm just curious, that's all. And... What's the reason you need me to learn how to shoot? Is something wrong?"
"Fine, if you're going to press for answers, I'll be honest," he said. "My job is... let's call it interesting. I do illegal things—selling drugs, running brothels, operating casinos, shipping and selling weapons. And those are just the highlights, not the full list, but they're what bring in the most money."
"So... to put it simply... the mafia?"