KIDNAPPED |Book1|wlw

Chapter Thirty - one

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I woke up slowly opening my eyes. I noticed I was lying in a soft, huge four-post bed, then I decided to close my eye again, slowly tugging my hands. I sign of relief; god, Im not tied again, I whispered. That thing was a nightmare; it made me so nervous to my last nerve. I slowly feel my chest checking if I had clothes on. Knowing what Franchesca is capable of, trying to remember what happened at Doctor Cedric's clinic.

I put my lenses on, looking distant, and I traveled my eyes across the room. I saw Franchesca reading books with my visions. I swear to goddesses, I start to wonder what kind of genes they both have, living like deadly, gorgeous dolls. Every time I closed my eyes, she was just there watching at me those mysterious lustful hazel eyes looking at me deeply. I noticed after her confessions, her eyes turned into lustful ones. 
Ugh! Franchesca, you make me crazy or even freak me out sometimes.

Then I was snagged by her eyes; it looks like every five minutes she looked towards me where I was resting; I knew her. She's more than a CCTV surveillance camera doing its job or even a trained K9 dog with a sense of twenty times more of snuffing drug.

"Camilla, are you awake?" I gave attention back to her, her voice with the strange, unfamiliar accent that I don't have any idea or clue even learned from any single word of those.

Before I sat properly, the next thing was she was standing beside this huge bed. I only glanced at her, then she leans downwards, smooching my forehead. "Still exhausted, babe...?" she said. "No spooning," I said. "And I'm not your baby, Francisca," I added. She leans forward down again and kisses my forehead. "Sorry, I was trying my best," she whispers. Still, I have no idea what happened or how I ended up here. This place was like someone's room or an individual in the highest position or a noble person who owns and lives in this place.

Every little detail of the layout is unique; even the high ceiling has its carvings and paintings incorporating the walls, and the four-post bed has its unique carvings, a nude woman. a small chimney with a little fire inside lounged at the center where Franchesca was facing. a mini living room across from my bed.

Those broad glass walls and their depth curtains draped naturally. And then there she is, the psychopath itself. A semi-masculine chick who can eye-fuck me the whole day patrolling like a loyal dog in service, which happens to be my half-cousin. And also that part I always missed—that I have had a family ever since I was being abducted.

Trying to recoup my memories. She went back on the huge couch, reading. This time she sat on a simple chair near the nightstand, turning the light on. I decided to go back, shutting down my eyes, thinking back to everything, and recovering strength from my body.

She was there, and I knew Franchesca was there to save me. But why didn't she say anything or something? Franchesca told me things, but maybe she's not much of a talker. Maybe because of who she is, trained by the Assassins along with the codes. And what's up with those confessions then? I don't know what to believe anymore.

* * *

I am sitting on the toilet still floating, then a gleam of my memory from the clinic. I covered my mouth. I can't believe what she did to me at the doctors' clinic—the amount of embarrassment I experienced when I started to act out myself. It was beyond my control. Covering my face with my hands, trying to gather my thoughts again.

Revisiting that part, all I can think was she went beyond. I honestly felt vile and sorry I was for her. How could I ever utter my indebtedness after everything we've been through just to make me safe? Thinking of the idea that one day she will be conveyed to me by her sister in one peace. I paused, looking at those gold and glass combined—the first thing I've seen in this bathroom. Does it seem like a master bedroom?. Taking my time as much as washing away my lenses and putting eye drops on them.