Chapter 31

Y A S M E E N

"Sit," I instruct Marcus to sit down on the barstool in the kitchen. "Take off the jacket."

"Don't try anything. I won't hesitate to put you down," he eyes me.

"I'm a little hurt that you think I can be that indecent," I frown.

He squirms out of his suit jacket, wincing as

it slowly comes off. The sleeve of his white dress shirt screams bloody murder. It's soaking in red liquid, more than I've ever seen in my lifetime. I wet a clean towel that is hanging in the kitchen and a pair of scissors from the drawer to cut open his sleeve. By the time I turn around, Marcus' shirt is already off, leaving the bloodied shirt on the ground. I couldn't look away, God knows I tried to blink to snap out of it but I couldn't. Tattoos cover most of his neck, stopping right above his chest. My God, he's well-built and muscular. The abs are so well-defined that I couldn't comprehend them, there's no way he merely got them from only working out. There are bits and pieces of tattoos scattered around his body, one large inkling splayed across his side. His arms are fully covered in sleeve-style tattoos, with blood running down his left arm–oh, damn. I forgot about his injury.

"What are the scissors for?" He asks, slightly defensively.

"I was going to use it to cut open the sleeve but you had other plans," I sigh.

"Why would you ruin my shirt?" He asks as if it's already not ruined.

"Mr. Marcus Wang, your shirt is damaged beyond saving with all the blood on it. I'm sure cutting the sleeves off wouldn't have made a difference; would've been a better

option, actually." I roll my eyes.

"Better option how?" What's he so defensive for?

"I wouldn't be so distracted by how attractive you are," I answer quite honestly.

I apply the wet cloth to his skin, dabbing away the excess blood while cleaning the wound to the best of my abilities. Once the dry blood is cleaned off, I can finally see the deep gash across his upper arm.

"How...What was this from?"

He looks at the wound indifferently, "Must've been from the bullet that was going to hit you. It's only a graze."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." I genuinely feel guilty for putting him in that situation.

"Did you pull the trigger?" He asks quite bluntly.

"What? No." I furrow my brows.

"Then, there's nothing to be sorry about," he simply shrugs it off. "I told you before, I was only following Alejandro's orders."

I silently clean everything up, the blood has stopped leaking through the wound as vigorously as it was before. I couldn't find a long enough cloth to wrap his arm in so I sigh, and started taking off my hijab.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

"I need something to wrap the wound with," I state.

"Why are you taking that off?" His questions don't stop, do they?

"Don't worry, I have something else covering my hair underneath. I'm not Nadia from Elite, I won't take off my hijab for some guy only because he's attractive," I giggle. "It's sweet of you to care, though."

"I wasn't–never mind. I don't have all night, can you hurry up?" He urges me.

"I'm trying to make sure an infection won't kill you, can you give me a few more minutes?" I start cleaning the wound a third time to make sure it can be as clean as possible. "Do you... by any chance know what happened tonight?"

Marcus doesn't answer.

"How about this: I speak a statement and you tell me if it's true or false. That way, you're not giving me any details," I suggest.

"Will that shut you up?" He narrows his eyes at me.

"Yes, I promise," I grin.

"Quickly, then," he agrees.

"Okay, first. The attack tonight was a surprise, as in no one expected it." I state my first point.

"Obviously, true," he answers.

"Alejandro has many dangerous enemies capable of doing this," I continue.

"True," he agrees.

"Because of Alejandro, Zara is always surrounded by danger." I' slowly working my way up the questions.

"True." He states.

"You're single," I smirk.

"True—What does this have to do with anything?" He stutters slightly because I caught him off guard.

I giggle, "Sorry, sorry! The target tonight was Zara and not Alejandro."

Marcus looks up at me, raising an eyebrow, "What makes you say that?"

"From the way I see it, the first gunshot that went off was to throw everyone into chaos, making it easy to leave Alejandro in confusion," I explain. "This also makes Zara an easy target because of how unprepared everyone is." I look at Marcus to see if he wants to hear the rest.

He nods, "Continue."

"The second gunshot was aimed for Zara because it hit directly where Zara was standing just a second before it went off," I continue. "Alejandro wasn't close enough so it would've been perfect but somehow, he made it just in time to pull her away and blend into the crowd. The target is, then, lost. We didn't hear a third gunshot go off during the time we were trying to get out. Therefore, the target wasn't Alejandro, it was Zara."

"You're confident in this theory?" He raises a brow, nearly invested.

I nod, "Alejandro wasn't anywhere near us, if the target was him, the bullet wouldn't have flown straight towards her. And if the plan was to only frighten everyone, they wouldn't have stopped after two shots. They lost their target and had to flee before getting caught."

There's silence again as I finish tying his wound with my black scarf. "There, all done. When you get home, I recommend switching to actual sterile gauges after treating it with some antiseptic."

"Whatever," he stands up and walks towards the door.

"I'll see you again soon?" I flutter my eyelashes at him playfully.

"No," he answers before shutting the door.

"I definitely will see him again after I find out which apartment is his," I laugh.

I settle down into one of the couches, with a view of the city skyline. Exhausted, I couldn't even bother to move.

Marcus didn't deny the theory... which means it can be a possibility. If the target was Zara, that means she's either gotten herself into something or Alejandro has bad blood with someone who's looking for his weak point.

Plus, there's something off about Alejandro and Zara's relationship. I want to be able to trust him and hope he won't hurt her but the look in Zara's eyes, the utter fear that darkened her gaze when I brought him up, isn't something that I can ignore.

I sigh, sliding further down the couch, "I guess I'll be staying in New York a little longer than I'd expected for Zara."

And maybe for Marcus.

I know, I know, he's not worth it but I can't help it. I love a little bit of a challenge. This may end up in complete heartbreak but at least I won't regret the fact that I never gave it my all.

• • •

"Marcus! You're here!" I grin once I open the door. He's standing there with his signature stoic expression. It's the next morning, I slept through the night as if someone knocked me out. You would never guess that I was in the middle of a shooting last night. Sometimes, my carefree behavior concerns me... it might be my downfall one day.

"Is your arm okay?" I ask Marcus as I stare at his sleeved arm.

"It's fine," he answers flatly. I notice two men standing behind him, holding luggage I recognize as my own and a few bags I don't recognize.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to ask you to come in. Please, come in!" I move away so the three men can come inside.

"Would you like this to be taken to your closet, ma'am?" One of the men asks.

"No, I can take it from here! Thank you so much. Do you guys accept tips?" I ask the two men.

"No, Boss will not allow that." The other man answers as they take their leave without another word.

I look at Marcus but he only shakes his head, "They were talking about Alejandro."

"Oh," I frown. Alejandro seems so much stricter than he used to give off years ago. But, then again, he seems like a completely different person now. "What's in the bags?"

"Grocery," he answers.

"Oh, that's nice of you!" I smile.

"Not from me. Your friend requested it for you," he clarifies.

"Zara?" I ask.

He nods.

"You can say her name, you know?" I chuckle softly. He doesn't react. "My God, you don't like her that much? Or is it because Alejandro fancies her instead of you?"

He twitches, just slightly enough for it to almost go unnoticed. I let out a soft giggle, "Life can be hostile sometimes, huh? Anyways, would you like to stay for lunch?"

"No," he answers with that signature stoic tone.

"Come on, you can't possibly have anything better to do on a Saturday," I pout.

"I don't. But I'd rather not spend my day off here," he sighs out of annoyance.

"That actually hurt my feelings but I can ignore it," I say as I dramatically put my hand on my chest. "That's alright. Maybe some other time."

"If that's everything, I'll take my leave, then." I'm sure he was going to leave either way.

"Wait, do you know when I can see Zara?" I ask him before he can leave.

"Do you need to relay a message to her?"

"No, I want to see her," I emphasize my words.

"I'll have to contact Alejandro to let him know when it's possible," he assures me.

"So, you're trying to tell me I can't just stroll in to see her?" I raise a brow.

"No," he answers flatly.

"Can I stroll by to see you?" I raise a brow.

"Definitely, not," he says with an unamused expression on his face.

"You're no fun," I pout.

"Word of advice, I recommend leaving this place and going back home as soon as possible. It won't do you any good hanging around your friend now." The first piece of useful information he's given me thus far.

"It seems like ever since I've stumbled across all of you, all any of you have done is give me advice. I appreciate it but I'd like to do things as I like them." It's true, it bothers me slightly because I want to analyze the situation for myself, not have other people tell me how it is.

He shrugs his shoulders as if my words don't matter to him, "Do as you please, but don't make things difficult for Alejandro." He walks out the front door.

"Wait! Mar—And he's gone," I sigh. I wanted to ask him for his number... for emergency purposes.

Alejandro is making it look like I'll need to make an appointment to see Zara and I can't stand that. Should I just show up at their apartment? It's literally the building next door.

I feel this uneasiness at the pit of my stomach, it's almost like I'm bracing for a storm coming up that'll destroy everything. Ah, I don't like this feeling. It's making me pace back and forth anxiously. I hope I'll get to see Zara soon... I hope she's holding up okay.

• •

Z A R A

I cry harder and harder into my bedsheets. No matter how much I scrubbed myself, no matter how many showers I took in a day, I can't seem to cleanse the feeling off of me. The grime, the disgust, and the shame of last night still clinging to my body. I was such an idiot to think I could have any sense of control with Alejandro, I shouldn't have given in to my desires. He's ruined me, he's shattered every piece of me I had kept intact. I can't think without wanting to die, I want to die. I want to die. I want to die.

My own body is no longer my own, my soul is no longer my own, and my own sense of security vanished. In a way, I died last night in the arms of the man who pulled the trigger. I'm just an empty shell of someone who I used to be.

"Ms. Zara?" A soft voice peeps out from my door.

I flinch back at the sound. Charlotte?

Her eyes widen once she opens my door, "Oh my God, Ms. Zara. Are you okay?"

The moment she asks the question, I burst into loud sobs, every part of me melting into my cries, the pain screaming to be let out, to be calmed, to be comforted.

Charlotte runs towards me and quickly holds me in her arms. "Did something happen to you at the party? Did you get hurt there?"

I shake my head.

"It's okay, ma'am. It must've been frightening," she caresses my hair softly. "Did Boss do something to you last night?" Her voice is low and quiet. My cries stop almost immediately. Just hearing him mentioned scares me beyond matter now. I grip onto Charlotte's shirt even harder, my breathing unhinged and heavy.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I understand. It's okay, I'm here. I'm right here," she rocks me back and forth in my arms, calming me down as if I'm a baby.

After a few minutes, I manage to calm down. Charlotte has this motherly affection for her, even though she seems to be closer to my age. Something about her brings comfort and warmth as if I'm at home with my family.

"Ma'am, I hate to bring this up now but Boss sent me in today," she says as carefully as she can.

My head jolts up, "For what?"

"I'm supposed to give you some physical training." She says carefully.

My throat dries up, "P-Physical training?"

"Don't worry! It's nothing to be afraid of! I'll be teaching you self-defense using mixed martial arts techniques three or four times a week," she explains. "After what happened last night at the charity event, Boss concluded that you need to know some form of self-defense in case he or someone he knows isn't always around to protect you."

I sit there in silence for a couple of seconds. Alejandro wants me to learn self-defense? This doesn't match up with his character. He hurts me, yet wants to protect me. He hurts me, yet he makes sure I'm out of harm's length. He hurts me, yet pretends to cherish me.

"Can I use this against Alejandro?" I ask quietly.

Charlotte's eyes widen for a moment, a sad expression lingering on her face, "I wish I could say yes but no, Boss has mastered most, if not all, types of martial arts. He has over 10 years of training under his belt, it would be difficult to take him down as a newbie."

I sigh, some training is better than no training. "Alright, when do we start?"

"Whenever you're ready," she smiles.

"I'll be out in five minutes, is that okay?" I give her a weak smile.

She nods, "Perfect! Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention but apparently, your friend had something to do with this sudden training recommendation."

My ears perk up, "Yasmeen? How?"

"Rumours are going around that she figured something out about last night that interested the Boss," Charlotte says. "Then, Boss concluded that you need to learn to protect yourself to a certain extent," she finishes.

I wonder what she figured out... Again, this unwanted envy creeps through into my mind. Alejandro seems to have this seemingly normal relationship with Yasmeen. He respects her, her thoughts, and her actions, and even finds her intelligent. Though he hasn't explicitly said that out loud, those rare actions of his speak louder than words.

But I'll make sure I absorb every technique possible to be able to defend myself. Whether they work against Alejandro or not does matter in the slightest to me. Though the flame that was burning to keep me alive had diminished last night, I still have this shameful urge to please Alejandro. He completely shattered my identity, molded it, and manipulated it into something that feels pride when he praises me. It's disgusting but that's all I feel like I have left in me, the need to please him, the need to avoid any more painful punishments, the need to belong in his sickening, loathsome world. Because in reality, I can no longer belong anywhere else, I can no longer go home to my parents, I can no longer be carefree with Yasmeen, and I can no longer be me. I'm too shameful, too humiliated, too broken to fit in anywhere except in his life.

• • •

During the training, which was exhausting yet exhilarating, Charlotte explained where she and Frank disappeared to. I was hoping something developed between them, maybe something funny happened to them when they were together, but no.

She and Frank were given the task to check up on everything. Apparently, she is very well trained in combat techniques. She said it was something she mastered to survive in the world she entered years ago. However, she would rather not be involved in actual combat because she dislikes the idea of violence and death, hence, why she works as a well-paid housekeeper.

Back to the story, when she and Frank separated to check on different corners of the hall, that's when the first gunshot went off. She stayed back to make sure everyone evacuated safely, whilst Frank tries to spot the perpetrators. She didn't come to visit me afterward because Alejandro had already informed her that he was able to take me away to safety.

"Frank... is... alright?" I ask her, breathlessly holding my knees for balance.

She smiles, "He's fine. That man is too tough for his own good."

"That's good," I give her a small smile.

"This is all for today, ma'am. You can take a break for the rest of the evening and I'll have dinner set up before I leave," she says.

"Thank you so much, Charlotte," I show gratitude not only for the training but for showing up and checking on me as well.

I take a quick shower to clean off the sweat and honestly, my mood is a little brighter. Maybe this training might help me stay a bit more positive because I'll have something to look forward to.

After Charlotte leaves, I decide to text Alejandro out of spite. I choose my words carefully, not wanting last night's events to repeat.

Zara: "Good evening, how was your day? I was wondering when I'll be allowed to see Yasmeen?

My heart is beating out of my chest after I hit send. I hope that sounded casual and polite enough. Minutes later, my phone rings. I almost puke at the sight of his name popping up on the screen.

"Hello?" My voice was shaky.

"Good evening, my love," his sickly sweet voice startles me. There's not one hint of pity or sympathy for what he put me through yesterday.

Just the sound of his voice reminds me of the grimes of last night, the touches, the kisses, the taste, the sounds, the misery, the pain, the pleasure. My head starts spinning slightly before I grip my blanket for some form of comfort and stability.

"How was your day? Did you enjoy your training with Charlotte?" He asks casually.

This is the same man I screamed 'I hate you to at the top of my lungs yesterday, can you believe that?

"I d-did, thank you for the opportunity." Again, in tiptoeing around my words.

"I'm glad, this will be good for you," he says.

"It will be, thank you." I try to sound agreeable.

There was silence for just a second or two, which felt like hours. He's doing it again, he's torturing me through the silence, waiting for me to ask for what I need, knowing how much this scares me.

"About Yasmeen..." I begin. "Do you think you can allow me to see her soon?"

"Hm... You had been considered good last night..." he pauses, making me clench my fist in fear of his next words. "Very well, you can see her tonight. I'll have someone inform her and bring her over to our home."

"Thank you so much," those are genuine words of gratitude because the relief of being able to see Yasmeen, even if it's not for long, will give me some form of temporary peace.

"I know she will ask for your number or email or any form of the way she can communicate," he pauses again, making me hold in my breath. "You may give her your cell phone number but communication must stay at a minimum."

I don't even know my cell phone number but I'm sure I can figure it out. "Understood," I say.

"I'll have Frank watch over the two of you," he states. Clearly, the indoor cameras are not enough for him.

"Understood," I repeat.

"I'll be expecting you in my bed tonight, no more sleeping in separate rooms," he instructs. "I'll have Charlotte move over your things to my closet tomorrow."

He's waiting for me to say I understand but the words are stuck in my throat. Not only do I have to lay beside the man who violates me, but I now have to sleep in the room that brings me no good memories.

"My love? Do you understand?" There's an edge to his tone.

"U-Understood," I don't want this, I enjoyed having my own room. At least, at night, I could retire to my own little world but now that is no longer possible. He's snatching away little bits and pieces of my peace, enjoying every second of

every second of it.

"Good, I'm glad. Well, have a wonderful time with Yasmeen. Please inform her that she needs to tone herself down sometimes or she might cause unwanted trouble," there's a hint of playfulness in his tone. There it is, the resentment and jealousy rising within me. Why aren't you this caring and fun when it comes to me? I wanted to scream on top of my lung but bite my tongue to not mess up my day with Yasmeen.

"I will let her know," I answer flatly, instead.

"Thank you, have a nice evening."

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