Chapter one

ELENA's POV

Before I have even opened my eyes, I am instantly confronted with the unsettling feeling of being unsure of where I am.

Aside from that, the pounding in my head is a clear indication that I am not yet prepared for this task. Unprepared to take a glance. Undoubtedly, it will be painful.

The pain is so intense that it is ripping through my jaw like lightning, and I groan as I press my cheek into the cushion. After that, I force my eyes open one at a time, and I immediately feel regret for doing so.

Should have paid attention. The dread that is growing in my stomach gets the better of me, even though I shouldn't have invited this stabby, unseen blade into my head the first place.

It is imperative that I am sure of my location.

Walls that are white. The color white. White and painful, like a priest.

Nothing is familiar to me.

Then I close my eyes. Relax and take a deep breath.

After then, I make an effort to think. Make an effort to recall.

I am making an effort to push through the angry nothingness that is clouding my consciousness.

My heart begins to race, and I have to make an effort to stop it. The weird impulse to get into a panic.

Taking a big breath, I hold it for a moment.

Just what do I know? What exactly do I recall?

I am currently in San Luis. Additionally, I went to a casino the night before last. You landed a large win on the slot machine. There were dancing cartoon cats on the screen everywhere, dollar dollars were being thrown, and the entire machine was flashing red and green lights and making a siren sound.

It was a woman who wore big sunglasses and vivid purple lipstick who insisted that we both have a round of margaritas to celebrate our victory. As a result, I gave in to her, just like any other person who is in a good mood and immediately have a lot of money.

You see, I wasn't finished yet. Oh my mother, no.

After that, I used to play blackjack. Before she vanished, my almost-friend with the purple lips sent me in the direction of the tables.

That was the place where I discovered that attractive swig of sin.

The beast with a silver tongue and a ripped body that provides me with a shaky smile even at this moment. Every time I won another hand, the man who smiled and winked at me with his bright blue eyes continued to do so.

God, he had a fantastic appearance. An immortal being that has come to earth with orders from Daddy Zeus to throw away their underwear in every direction.

Don't get the wrong idea. In a normal situation, I would not slobber over males like this. Another option is to go around drinking with people you have never met before.

The exhilaration of the spinning reels and neon lights does not cause me to become particularly heated and bothered, nor does it cause me to become carried away.

It is true that Elena freaking Austin, yours really, is the kind of lady who does not engage in stunning or frightening activities.

It is not possible for her to break off her marriage to Ramsey, travel to San Luis, win an incredible amount of money, and then find herself in the presence of a stranger.

On the other hand, I had gotten upon his lap, not had I? My fingertips had stroked his powerful, wonderfully worn face, beginning above the ear and working their way down to the sensitive short beard that brushed so dangerously sweet against my flesh. I had accomplished this by beginning above the ear.

At the bar, he had also purchased a couple rounds for me. I took the initiative to repay him by purchasing a couple of drinks for him, and then...

A complete and utter blank.

Oh, no!

Why is it that I can't recall? Although I have experienced intoxication in the past, I didn't even have that many beers the night before. Have I done it?

My mind is filled with agony once more, and it is not this slow freight train of God that is causing it.

On the contrary, it tells me. A hangover from hell is unable to tell a falsehood.

My skull is pretty much on the verge of blowing apart.

I take a deep breath and force my eyelids open once more, hoping that a shade of teal or a light blue will appear in front of my eyes on this occasion.

No way. Nothing except pure white. Everywhere you look.

The brightness of the room causes my head to ache more intensely, and even the drapes are a bone-white color.

The location that I am staying at in town is not this one. Those walls are covered with garish wallpaper from the early nineties bearing enormous pink roses. In addition, the bed is very unsuitable. It is far larger than the droopy double bed that I am accustomed to, which has a mattress that seems to eat you alive, and there is never this enormous, towering lump within reach.

Hold on. A lump?

An creepy feeling overall As I slowly get up the nerve to rotate my neck, the realization that I am not alone causes a tremor to go down my spine.

What the hell? I am currently snoozing in a bed. accompanied by a male.

There is no Ramsey involved.

In response to the sight of him, my head swings back so quickly that the breath in my lungs becomes trapped.

In his slumber, He makes a little shift, his face leaning towards the side like that of a sleepy lion, and his lips somewhat pursed slightly. It would be funny if I didn't have to battle to remember my own name. It would be kind of adorable.

But at this very moment?

Insane! Every time my heart beats, fuzzy memories come flooding back to me. My heart is beating quicker.

It is he there. A man who was sitting at the blackjack table. The beast who almost managed to entice me into a lap dance that would have been appropriate for a Turkish Nights fantasy.

The one with eyes that are as dark as the night sky and as blue as midnight. The black, bleeding ink of his tattoos is almost as stunning as the tattoos themselves. These vivid fever eyes of his are closed, and I wish that they remain closed for the foreseeable future. It is not necessary for them to question me in order for me to comprehend the full and terrifying significance of what has occurred here.

His tattoos are quite effective. I immediately identify the American flag that is tattooed on his arm, as well as the fierce eagle that is tattooed on his breast.

A second look is what I take. It is impossible to confuse him with anyone else.

Due to the fact that I was unable to identify his true identity to save my life, he is known as the man with a thousand identities.

Someone shoot me, please.

However, before I proceed, allow me to steal another glimpse and admit that I am a little bit dissatisfied with the fact that the sheet covers the majority of him below the waist.

Also, I am covered by the same sheet, which is a positive aspect.

My headache, which is the size of a cotton ball, becomes more intense with a sense of self-consciousness as I realize how close I am to being nude next to this delicious beast-man.

To be honest, how did I get to this point? Are you naked? By his side?

I have a hard time calling back more specifics, but my brain, which has been saturated with margaritas, has its limits.

Every terrifying tale that my mother has ever told me is playing over and over in my head, and my heart is leaping into my throat. A wide range of criminals, including those who abduct children from playgrounds while carrying candy and serial killers who lure women into their vans while they are parked in parking lots.

Did I really, actually go gallivanting off to a one-night stand? Whatever else I did last night, whatever laws of Elena I crumpled up and threw away, I should have known better than to do these things. Do you know what I've never done in my entire life?

Even though I am trying to convince myself that none of those things took place the night before, I find myself breaking out in a cold sweat.

As I stretch, I do it slowly while consciously contracting my muscles.

The pain is only in my head at the moment. Surely, if I had had the opportunity to have fun with this goliath who was sleeping peacefully, he would have left me feeling achy in all the finest possible ways.

I wrinkle my nose, perplexed as to why nothing seems to make sense.

I slowly get out of bed, in a manner that is a combination of rolling and falling to the ground. Whether or not I am relieved by the fact that I am still wearing my bra and underwear is something I am on the fence about.

Because I can see my clothing from across the room, there is no time for me to try to persuade myself of either option.

It has a blue hue. The identical one that I purchased just before I left Phoenix . In comparison to anything else in my previous clothing, it was cut higher and lower. When I tried it on for the first time and gazed into the mirror in the dressing room, my cheeks erupted into flames. I was certain that I had discovered the ideal ensemble for San Luis Elena.

Post RamseyElena.

New brand Elena.

That was something I had planned to celebrate. Freedom, how sweet it is.

Finally coming to terms with the enormous error I had committed by being held captive for a number of years.

Without having the courage to look behind me, I trust that this stranghas not been roused from his sleep by the weight of my body departing from the bed, and then I crawl to my dress. It is also where I have my handbag. Placed on the ground next to a single shoe.

A quick look to the left and right reveals that I have not come across any other white sandals. As I continue to crawl toward the door, I refuse to look back at the bed. Instead, I grab my handbag with one hand and the dress with the other at the same time.

One sandal is preferable to none at all.

As I wiggle on my hands and knees, I am grateful that the carpet is white and fluffy. Of course, this is another reason why I am thankful. My sloppy noises are muffled as a result of this.

As I make my way through this chamber that appears to be larger than some houses, I remind myself to keep breathing.

I am eventually able to approach the door, and as I do so, I reach up, turn the handle, and slowly slide it open until it is wide enough for me to pass through. It is inevitable that I will lose the second sandal from my foot, and I will clench my teeth as it moves away from me behind me.

My next step is to draw the dress over my head, twist it till I locate the arm holes, and then pull it down to my waist. Once it is closed, I pull it down.

Wow, that's a lot of work. When I'm in a hungover state, it's almost like I'm running a short marathon. Almost to the point of gasping for air, I am.

To be precise, I have never participated in a marathon. Another thing that has never happened to me is that I have ever been forced to sneak out of a stranger's bedroom like a screaming cat burglar.

I let out a sigh as I let out a sigh of disbelief at how unbelievable this is. Until you find yourself slammed against the wall as everything begins to whirl.

Oh, dear hell! I was wondering how many cocktails I had.

It only takes a few seconds for my knees to return to their normal form. I have to stifle a moan because the agony around my head is so intense that it causes my eyes to water.

The amount is excessive. It's just odd. It is so eerie!

Even if I could just get my legs to function like a regular human being, I would be completely gone.

As I make my way down the hallway and into the huge living room, I dash – well, I stagger because I still don't have that much of a sense of orientation.

White walls that are spotless once more. A wonderful backdrop that contrasts with the dark leather furnishings and a large gray fireplace that has a few images scattered on the mantle.

Everything appears to be brand new and has not been used. And this simply serves to add to the strangeness.