"Yesterday he stopped eating, and now he's crying."
"Young master only says one word, sir..." She saw black and heard a whisper from a weakened throat.
"FUCK!"
Odette winced. She heard someone gasp, and another let out a low—"finally."
A distant picture of glass edged with diamonds collided against each other into one artwork. That chandelier was bigger than her entire upper body. The ceiling churned in a simple grey with heavy pillars upholding it. She looked again and blinked, tried to lift her finger underneath a warm salmon-pink blanket. It had no end. She couldn't figure out where she lay but knew it was massive.
"My lady," an old man, frail yet rigid in his posture, smiled oh so gently. "You have woken up. I'll tell the kitchen to prepare some herbal tea for you."
"I..." Where was she? What is this place? And how did she get here?
Where's Gideon?
GIDEON!
At the thought of his name, she remembered what happened. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and her hands trembled with fear. Now she felt her shoulder throb, and her heart broke for her son. Paul watched as she cried at him and Mr. Griffin with pain. By now, the medicine must have worn off.
"Where is my child?" Her child... she had become so attached to him in such a short time.
"Where is he, please!" Odette felt ashamed to break down in tears in front of two strange men. She couldn't imagine his deadly gaze and her child's horrific cries.
Paul looked at the pitiful face of the family butler and jumped in. "He's not your child. You know that very well... he's our master's stepbrother!"
Odette sat on her back and stared around. She couldn't calculate anything. The grief of her departure from Gideon made her weep nonstop.
"I want to speak with your master then." Her eyes hardened. "Whoever your master is... could you please bring him to me?"
"Hah!" The man smirked. "Bring him to you? Who do you think you are?"
"Sir..." Mr. Griffin stopped Paul. "I think we should report to Master Constantine immediately."
It had been three hours since the men left her. She lifted herself from the bed, which was too much for her even to look at. The light-blue pajama top and loose pants she wore that night were still there. Thankfully, no one had dared to change her while she was unconscious. Odette searched for a change of clothes but found nothing. Not even slippers.
She did not have time to care about these trivial matters—the only person in her head was Gideon. She stepped out of the room into a wide hallway made of glass and porcelain tiles. Huge windows and various portraits hung on the wall. It was a mix of ocean green and white. Her head spun at how small she felt in this huge place. An alignment of unopened doors intrigued her as she kept walking slowly, looking at the creepy portraits of men wearing suits and holding weapons in their hands. Their eyes held no soul.
She could not find the place where they kept her son.
"In all my life," a familiar chill—she jolted back to see a man walking towards her slowly, smiling.
"I have never seen anyone walk these floors barefoot like you."
"Don't! Come close." She blurted out, stepping back.
He listened.
The fear in her eyes greatly disturbed him. He was used to people looking at him like that, but... why did he hate it when she did? She was technically his benefactor. There was nothing much to their relationship. She was a normal person, not even worthy of looking at him. But why did her fear-filled eyes stop him from aiming the pistol at her?
"Tell me where he is, please." She drew in a cry. "I don't know you. I have never hurt you. I don't know why I am here. Why he's here—"
He started to walk towards her.
"I think you—you have gotten the wrong people, sir." Her heart raced like a dying horse. "I-I-I work at a normal bakery. I've never seen you in my life. I—"
Word by word, he drew closer, and every step carried intensified speed. It horrified her, and she stepped away with shaking legs, sniffling loudly.
"Don't come closer! Please, let my child and me go!"
Before she even blinked, her next line of words, he was inches away from her, and it made her stumble down to the floor.
"AH!" Both her back and head hurt from the fall.
Caius walked closer and knelt next to her face, leaning over to look at her. With all the will of his doomed life, he mustered up a small amount of gentleness—the most he could find—and placed his hand gently on her bare ankle.
"You're shaking," he gazed deeply into her eyes. "Are you scared of me?"
Silence. Her head hung low.
He squeezed her ankle a little bit, and she shot her head up with a wince and looked at him with anger.
"Where is my son?"
"You did not answer my question."
"Where am I?"
Caius felt pain in his chest. He drew closer and repeated. "Are you scared of me, Odette?"
At the mention of her name, she widened her eyes and went silent once again. Then her lips trembled. "I-... are you..."
He felt hope. "Hmm?"
Her eyes suddenly dared him. "Are you going to hurt me?"
No.
"Define hurt."
"Kill me." Odette sniffed and tried to pry her ankle off his hands. He held it tightly, tugging her closer to him. "Stab me... shoot me." She tightened her lips. He watched as her eyes softened. "Hit me... or... or—" Odette's mind went to all the scary ways of dying under this man's foot.
Caius watched in awe at her confidence, even in the face of meeting her abductor. He chuckled.
"I could easily twist your ankle, yeah..." he rubbed his thumb over her skin. "Or pull a trigger on you, that too."
For some reason, he did not feel uneasy talking to her. His eyes never hardened.
"But why would I do any of that to the person who saved my life, hmm..."
"Ah?"
Her eyes of confusion created an impulse within him to touch her face.
"I was severely tortured and could not even breathe," he said. "My own blood wanted me dead, shredded into pieces. You saw me lying there near St. Agnes Cemetery, and you took me to the nearest hospital." Caius looked down at her ankle. He felt weak, exposing the past.
"I don't know whether you remember—"
"I don't." Odette glared at him. She did remember him. Now that he mentioned it, she was reminded of the helpless person that she had carried to the hospital.
At her bold statement, he looked up.
She continued, "I remember helping a beaten-up innocent man." He watched her lips speak poison. "I don't remember helping a creature like you."
Monster. Demon.
...Creature. ...Curse.
All these words were not new. His eyes glinted with a smile as he tightened his grip on her, earning a low yelp. With the other hand, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to his face.
"I was the same creature back then," Odette wriggled, but his hold squeezed tighter. "I was covered in blood so much you just didn't see me well." He spat viciously.
"I don't want to stay in this place for even a minute!"
His smile disappeared, and his eyes lost their color. What was left on his face was a deadly glare, silent... preying on her fear and with no heart to feel.
"Try leaving this place," Caius feasted on her glare. "Try leaving my house alive."
Odette had had enough of this. She slapped away his hand, freeing her arm. "I will." She grabbed his sleeve and hissed out. No one in their right mind would have slapped Caius or spoken in such a way. She was out of her mind—and he loved it.
"I will repay you for the effort you took to save my life by having you enjoy wealth in this house."
"I don't need it."
It was funny how she thought she had a choice. Caius could not help but move a strand of her hair that fell onto her face. With a crushing glare, he smiled. "I kinda feel like keeping you here." His chuckle echoed through the corridor. "Welp."
Odette pushed him away while he was still smiling. She did not want to act like a weak woman—it was time to take things into her own hands. The hallways cowered at his presence. He watched her walk away and declared loudly:
"Turn left and go straight towards the stairs. He will be there, in the room on the left."