Chapter-8

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The next morning I woke up with a jolt. I had already forgotten the nightmare that woke me up in the first place. The room was still dark. I switched on the lamp.

My legs were shaking. I walked into the bathroom. The bathtub was already full. Damien had filled it last night. Or this night. I honestly don't know.

The water was cold now, thank God. I needed it to calm me down. I took off my clothes and looked at my body in the mirror. My purple hair was all over the place. My eyes looked wide and frightened. This wasn't me. I wasn't this terrified.

Nothing made sense, well some of it did. The Mafia. Blueprints. Roy's disappearance. But Dylan's connection and Adrian? No clue. Especially what it had to do with my kidnapping.

I lowered my body into the cool water. A soft moan escaped my lips. It felt so good and refreshing! I washed the sweat off me with the rose and lavender soap and wrapped myself in one of the plush Turkish towels. I walked into the room, leaving a trail of water behind me.

Sure enough my belongings were in the drawer. The sight of my sketchbook both comforted and enraged me.

I picked out a lavender tank top (brought from the kid's section. Don't ask) and a pair of black pants. It complemented my tanned skin and purple hair quite nicely. If I was going to wreck havoc might as well look good. But even if I did get out what then? I had no clue where I was. The best I could do was hope for the best.

I heard another beep and Antonio walked in with another tray of food and an identical glass jug.

He looked at the untouched tray on the table and frowned.

"You should eat."

"I'm not hungry."

Antonio sighed and kept the tray on the table, taking away the unused one. I watched as he typed the password again. I couldn't see it again. He was blocking it with his body.

He went outside.

I waited till I heard his footsteps die down and walked to the tray. I took off the lid and I felt my mouth water. My stomach growled. It felt like it was collapsing on itself. I was that hungry. There was a croissant, some crisp, golden pancakes with amber maple syrup dripping from the top. There was also a blueberry muffin. Another glass jug of cool water gleamed, the water reflecting the silver of the tray.

Despite my ravenous stomach, I touched nothing. It might contain truth serum, sodium amytal or some other chemical that could fuck up my thoughts. Adrian loved that, didn't he?

But I need to get out and soon. Without food or water, my condition was only getting worse. I hadn't been drinking the water either.

I didn't know how long my resolve would hold. Hopefully for a few more hours, max.

I took out my sketchbook and my pencils and started sketching. The first thing that came to my mind was Adrian, so I sketched him. I captured his handsome features perfectly. He looked monstrous, like a villian, but that was the way I perceived him. My own biases played in sometimes when I sketched.

I faced the camera, so that the book faced away from it. The last thing I wanted was him cracking up at the sight of his hostage sketching his face.

The sketch helped me take my mind off the situation for a while. I lost myself in black and white colors, the way the lights and it's shadow danced together to make the world visible. I sketched the patterns of light the lamp and the table.

I kept drawing for God knows how long and then I heard another beep.

Adrian.

Adrian was carrying another tray. He walked in and smiled at me, amused.

"You didn't like the food, I take it?"

I looked up and waved my finger. I still hadn't forgiven him for the kidnapping and the art book.

He set the tray on the table next to my bed, where I was sitting. This guy was about five hundred meters too close.

"Are you always this charming?"

"I'm having an off day," I replied icily.

"Why? I haven't hurt you have I?"

"You're the psychopath. Why don't you tell me."

"I think you meant psychologist." He said.

"Freudian slip. Oops" I smiled innocently.

He narrowed his eyes.

Freudian slips happened when you accidentally said something that you were subconsciously thinking. Like if you thought about your sex while saying something like 'best' it would accidentally come out as 'breast.' It happens to the best of us.

I kept my gaze on him. Do not turn your back on your enemy.

He poured himself a glass of water and tilted his head to drink. The artist in me took in the way the light fell on his jaw, the curve of his lip. His throat moves as he drank the water, I had a sudden urge to run my fingers across his jaw and down his throat.

And choke the life out of him.

"As you can see, it's not poisoned. So eat." He said before leaving.

Adrian caught me watching him as he moved to type the password and smirked.

"Don't try, love. You can't get out through the door. Think of something else. Be creative. I know you can." He flicked his eyes towards my sketchbook then back up at me.

Rage took over every cell of my being. Him taunting me, the keypad.

When Antonio walked in with my dinner I had decided that enough was enough. When he saw me indulging in the chocolate from today's lunch that I'd saved for later and smiled, I nearly lost it. The lights in the room were dim.

He set the tray down and chuckled.

"Cute little thing."

I'm going to fucking kill him.

He walked towards the door, laughing. He paused at the keypad and turned back.

"Hey Chevron. Didn't your darling teachers teach you to fight back? You're the weakest captive so far."

No, but I did learn a good deal about projectiles.

I picked up the glass jug and threw it at him with all my strength. It sailed to his left and shattered against the wall with a loud sound, the water splashed against the wall and shards of glass fell to the floor one by one, like piano notes.

Antonio looked down at the fragments of the jug and then looked at me. He barely restrained his fury.

I shifted slightly and he tsked.

"Looks like Adrian got to you."

He turned around and typed the code in the glowing keypad. Making sure I could not see it.

When he left, I knew the code. I smirked. What an idiot. He'd given it to me himself.

I picked up a shard of glass and wrapped it in one of my old shirts so I don't hurt myself. I waited till the house was asleep before I made my move.

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