Reality Struck

I was awakened by the distant sound of the television. Immediately I opened my eyes, I saw Maxine cropped up on a chair at the end of the room.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," he muttered.

"Where are we?" I croaked, sitting up on the bed and surveying the empty room that had only a bed and a television.

Maxine stretched his arms, and sighed. "Home, The Garden."

"Thank God." I sighed, before realizing what he meant. "You mean your home is referred to as The Garden?"

"Mhmm." He hummed.

"Gross." I spat out.

"It's a good name." He stood up. "Hollis totally owe me for this." He murmured and left the room, not even saying a goodbye or any other word.

My throat felt raw, and my body, emotionally exhausted. I could feel dark isolation seeping through the room like deep depression. I just wanted to go home, to go shopping, boat cruises, clubhouses and the courtroom. I wanted my life back.

But even I know I couldn't. Not with the continuous attempt on my life and with my father's life at stake.

I wondered what lies in wait for me henceforth. Maybe breaking my spirit and instilling fear in me was part of the preparation.

As if in the know, a knock came on the door and Hollis stepped in. "Get off the bed Ugo. Rocco will take you up to our room." He said, voice emotionless.

I stood up from the bed, trying to gather my thoughts. Our room, he said. 'Are we going to share a room?'. I wondered. "Are we going to share a room?" I asked out loud when I couldn't keep it in.

"You agreed to this, didn't you?"

I nodded. "Then move your legs." He said.

I looked at him, searched his face for that calm, young man that had been trying so hard to woo me non-stop but saw nothing. Nobody would say he was currently forcing me to do anything per se, I agreed to it .

It didn't matter if I liked the choices, I still made a decision. "I'm not sharing a room with you." I stated, at least I didn't sign away my freedom of speech too.

"That is exactly what you are going to do," he insisted.

Hollis called me closer with his fingers, "You will do as I say." He told me once I came closer.

I avoided his gaze, but stood rooted on the floor.

"Which way?" I asked, gaze still downcast.

"Are you talking to me or your shoes, Ugo?" He asked such an annoying question.

"You." I replied.

"Look at me."

I shook my head. Looking at him would obviously mean falling into a trap. The drum of tears I've been battling so hard to keep at bay would definitely get broken.

He waited, obviously thinking that I would be able to gather enough courage to look at him. But then he gave up when I didn't. "That way," he pointed.

"Lead the way then." I told him refusing to give it another thought.

He pulled my arm gently and drew me even closer to him. "I am not your warden, Ugo," he said, watching as I blinked up at him through watery eyes. "I am the Boss, he added. "Don't ever forget that."

I pulled my hand away from him and saw the smirk on his lips. "I do forget how much you've built your strength and stamina. You might need some taming."

"What? I'm not some toy to you, am I?"

"I don't think you've fully grasped the deal you signed. But I guarantee that it will all sink-in in a day or two."

"Does this deal state that I'm your prisoner too?" He said he wasn't my warden, wasn't he? Because I was so certain that I wouldn't be permitted to leave the premises. Not without him seeking out and slaughtering everyone I loved.

I would never let that happen. I actually felt a little whiplash from the whole thing and It didn't even help that I'd witnessed a gruesome murder or that I was being used as some sort of white flag to stop the wrath of the so-called Boss on my father.

To even realize that if I didn't let myself be used that way, my loved ones would die made it all worse. With all the thoughts roaming through my head, it was no wonder that I felt a little unstable on my own two feet. And as for my head, well, it kept shooting off in a dozen different directions every second. I needed to focus!

I was going to spend several months with this man, a killer, a monster in a man's clothing. I'll have to endure whatever he's going to throw at me for months. I was fucked up, no matter how I chose to look at it.

Even if he was objectively-attractive, darkly-attractive, if that was a thing. He was still a psychopath who used his position, power and money to bend people to his will. That was the kind of evil bastard I just got myself mixed up with. He wasn't an angel. My senses were slowly becoming clearer and suddenly, I was doing all the thinking I should have done before placing my signature on that stupid sheet of paper.

"Ugo," Hollis' voice snapped, the sound like a whip cracking in the empty room. I raised my head up to find him looking down at me, those dark eyes unreadable.

"What?"

"Move," he said, tone impatient.

"I'm getting you upset already." I chuckled. "This has always been your plan. You couldn't just handle a simple rejection. So, you had to sit down in that little pissy chair of yours and craft out a plan to get me tangled up in your deadly life, right?"

"If only you knew what I'm doing for you, you would owe me your life."

I started laughing, I couldn't help it. "Well you're in luck, at least you'll have me in your space in the coming months."

"Ugo!" He snapped again. "Move," he warned sternly.

"This was all your plan." I reminded him.

"Yes," he agreed as his hand grabbed mine. And I could swear that it didn't leave a strange spark on my nerves. If it did, it was because I was pissed that he was touching me. That was the only logical explanation. "But you are the one being difficult," he added as he moved ahead and pulled me along.

"Look who said he wasn't my warden," I grumbled

"If you were expecting a soft-romantic man, Ugo, you are very much mistaken. You had the opportunity once and you threw it away."

"I don't want romance from you," I insisted. "Why would I, for god's sake."

We were now in an open corridor. Rocco stood like a statue at the end of the room, staring into space. Two other guards stood at a reasonable distance, taking the same stance. I snatched my hand back from him, crossing it over my chest.

"Good. Then that's settled. But make no mistake, he turned "I'm going to take my pleasure from you, how and when I deem it fit." He threatened.

"You dare not!" I challenged, creating a distance between us.

"Really," he mused. "Let's see how that goes."

"Every single thing about this situation is disappointing," I corrected him, feeling my jaw quiver. I had a temper. So I try so hard to always remain happy and positive.

And that was why I surrounded myself with people that really love and care about me. They all knew and understood how bad my temper used to be.

As a form of control, I would always remain cool and calm in situations I have no power over. Until I grab a full picture of the situation. But then, in some conditions, I almost always end up crying when I get angry. It was frustrating and embarrassing and something my best friend had teased me about a lot.

Hollis mouth opened as if he was going to snap back at me before he shut it again, thinking for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was calm, patient even. "You will learn that there are benefits to being with me."

"Touche. You might end up dead one morning."

He chuckled. "And you'll be my killer?" He asked as one of his dark brows rose.

"What do you think?"

"I think you're giving yourself too much credit, Ugo." I couldn't decide if he was surprised, amused or annoyed. Or maybe all of them at the same time. "But I'm banking on that," he added.

"I imagine there are at least a dozen men who want you dead."

"Yes, even more than a dozen." He said, shrugging it off.

"So I'll just wait it out then."

"You should." He nodded, pretending to think it through. "Someone might beat you to it."