Chapter 8 Eloise

He knew exactly what Adone was referring to, but he couldn’t afford to show fear. "What? Me? No, sir. I didn’t," Vincent stammered, keeping his gaze firmly on the floor. But before he could finish, a sharp slap struck his face, the force of it making him stumble back a step. Adone's eyes bore into him, unyielding and dangerous. "Well, it’s not like I wasn’t going to introduce you to this world sooner or later," Adone said, a twisted smile forming on his lips. Vincent's cheek stung, but he forced himself to remain still, knowing any further reaction could provoke worse. "I’m sorry, sir," Vincent muttered, lowering his head even further, trying to appease Adone’s wrath. Adone scoffed his expression one of disdain. "Am I supposed to use your sorry for something? Does it fix the problem?" His voice was mocking, almost amused by Vincent’s attempt to apologize. Vincent shook his head quickly, his throat tightening. "No, sir." Adone sighed as if disappointed by the response. "My important guests are coming today. If you fuck this up, I’m going to kill your little pet," Adone threatened, his voice calm yet terrifying. Vincent’s eyes widened in shock, his heart hammering in his chest. The mention of Lola, the one person who meant anything to him in this hell, sent a chill down his spine. He couldn’t respond, couldn’t muster the words to beg or plead. Rather, he nodded, realizing how serious things were. His thoughts raced, remembering Lola and his pledge to keep her safe. Failing tonight wasn't an option. "Get out of my sight," Adone spat, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "Yes, sir," Vincent responded, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. He quickly turned and walked out of the room, each step feeling heavier than the last. As he moved down the corridor, he could not help but feel the crushing weight of the task ahead. The stakes were higher than ever, and failure was not an option, not with Lola's life on the line. ~~ "I don't want your food, motherfuckers," Eloise snapped, pushing the tray away with a force that sent the dishes clattering. The man who brought it stood there silently, unfazed by her outburst. His blank expression made her blood boil even more. "Get me out of here, and I'll make you rich!" she tried again, desperation edging into her voice. Like always, he ignored her, simply turning on his heel and walking out of the room. The door locked behind him with a heavy click, the sound echoing in her ears. Eloise groaned in frustration, throwing herself onto the bed. Three days. Three days in this godforsaken place, and it felt like an eternity. Time dragged on in this prison, each hour stretching out endlessly, mocking her with its slow crawl. She had not seen the outside world, had not sensed the nightclub pulse, and had not been living her normal life. She felt the boredom enveloping her like a thick mist. With a deep sigh, she pushed herself up and headed to the bathroom. Stripping off her clothes, she slipped into the bathtub, the warm water enveloping her like a comforting embrace. It was the only thing in this place that offered her any solace, the only moment of peace she could find. Her muscles became less tense as a result of the water's mild warmth, which helped her forget about the difficult circumstances she found herself in. For a moment, she closed her eyes, letting the warmth wash over her, trying to forget that she was trapped in the house of a dangerously handsome kidnapper. Even the bath could not completely relieve the gnawing anxiety in her chest. She sighed again, her thoughts sinking deeper into the water. Eloise let the warm water wash over her as she tried to temporarily forget everything. Her heart almost stopped when she opened her eyes and saw that Vincent was standing there, watching her. Panicking, she quickly tried to cover herself with both hands, the towel too far out of reach. Vincent watched her desperate attempt to cover herself, his eyes fixed on her bare skin, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Vincent!” She let out a gasp, sounding both shocked and angry, but he remained motionless, his smile never going away, his eyes fixed on her. “You’re invading my privacy,” she snapped, her voice trembling as she tried to cover herself with her hands. But he didn’t flinch, his gaze steady and unapologetic. “Just get me my towel,” she finally demanded, frustration dripping from her tone. He smirked, sauntering over to grab the towel. He handed it to her, and she snatched it with an arrogant glare and hurriedly wrapped it around her body. “I could call the police on you for this,” she threatened, but all he did was smile, that maddeningly calm smile that made her blood boil. “Pervert,” she muttered under her breath, seething. “Now get out,” she ordered, pointing to the door. But he just stood there, his eyes raking over her, making her skin prickle with anger and something else she refused to acknowledge. Furious, she stepped closer, shoving at his chest, but he didn’t budge. “Get out!” she repeated, still pushing at him, her hands pressed against his firm chest, trembling with a mix of fear and fury. “If you wanted to touch my chest so badly, all you had to do was ask,” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. She quickly pulled her hands back as if his skin had burned her. “You disgust me,” she spat, her voice shaking. He stepped closer, forcing her to back up until her bare back hit the cold wall. She felt trapped, his presence overwhelming, suffocating. Her breath caught in her throat as his eyes dropped to her lips. She almost gasped, but held it back, her heart pounding in her chest. His hand slid to her waist, fingers pressing into her flesh, pulling her closer until she could feel the heat of his body against hers. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. It was like he’d stolen her voice, leaving her helpless under his touch. His other hand moved up, closer to her breast, grazing it lightly, making her gasp involuntarily. It was as if her body was betraying her, aching for more of his touch, more of him. Their eyes locked, and she felt herself drowning in the intensity of his gaze as his lips hovered near hers. She could feel his breath on her skin, the heat of it teasing her, but just when she thought he’d close the gap between them, he stopped. His hands dropped from her body, leaving her cold and wanting, as he stepped back. “I know you want me, Princessa,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over her trembling lips, sending a shiver down her spine. “But not today.” His words were a taunt, a promise, as he turned and walked out, leaving her breathless and shaking. She realized she’d been holding her breath the entire time. Her body was on fire, a heat pooling between her legs that she’d never felt before, and it terrified her.