4. A painful death

Leah Falco's POV

The old lady looks at me with a circumstance face while I can only think about leaving this hateful feudal-style room.

I feel like one of those maidens kidnapped by vandals in the Mallory series.*

'Mallory: book series created by Johanna Lindsey'

"I can help you," I offer with a pleading expression.

"Dean said..."

"Please," I join my hands in a prayer. "Please, I've been here for three endless days and I think I'll die of a heart attack or nerves if I don't go through that door. I promise to behave myself and not running away," I add when I see her hesitating.

"Well," she agrees after a few eternal seconds, "but you'll stay by my side and as soon as Dean gets here, you'll let me talk. Okay?"

"Thank you very much!" I throw into her arms with a sudden movement. She looks at me bewildered with surprise, while I smile ecstatically. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"I can imagine," she pats me gently on the back to encourage me. "Everything will get better, you'll see."

Although I don't share her opinion, I widen a smile as I reiterate my gratitude.

Finally, after what it seems like forever, I can see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. For the first time I find myself enjoying washing dishes or cutting vegetables and canning. Housework has never been my thing. However, right now tasks give me a break and keep my mind occupied.

I have always taken life lightly, acting before thinking without fearing consequences. For as long as I can remember, I have considered myself a Mother Nature's mistake and I have never minded taking risks. However, now I am in this situation, struggling to survive and fearing that I will not be able to wake up tomorrow.

Sometimes, we have to touch limits to realize what it is truly important and we question what we do or provoke with our actions. And now I can see I have lost a lot of time and I have burned stages.

If I get out of this, I promise to turn my crush into my epic love and we buy a little lakeside house together. I will not have children, because I would be a disastrous mother and that is something I have always been clear about, but we could adopt a dog. I will live my own erotic love story and look for my happy ending.

The doorbell rings, stopping our fun cooking robot class on YouTube, and Josephine leaves me reading the instructions from the cute cooking robot while she goes to the door.

The temptation to run away is still latent, but I would have nowhere to go and it would be too soon. So I let out a loud snort before focusing on the manual.

The machine has more keys and buttons than I can count and the graphic description seems to be written in hieroglyphs. Like I said, I'm terrible at housework.

"As a housewife you don't earn an Euro, Leah Falco," I murmur thoughtfully.

"Did you decipher demon's device?" the old woman asks when she returns.

I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Suddenly, I find a completely different meaning to the expression. An irrational and perverted part of me imagines myself on my knees in front of the Devil, examining his… instrument.

'Really Leah?'

I have no doubt I'm crazy. Now, to even think of having any kind of intimacy with the man who holds me prisoner and longs to slit my throat… That's too much, even for a daredevil like me.

"No," I answer, choking back a laugh. "Who was…?"

I don't have time to say anything else, since a very cute blonde guy appears in front of my eyes, I hardly look up. My flirtatious side can't help but surface, while my brain won't stop hatching escape plans.

I look like a desperate, looking for the charming prince to rescue me everywhere, but I have no other choice. I'm really screwed and I have to hold on to any shred of hope so I don't die from an anxiety attack.

"Where do you say those papers are, Steve?" Joe asks the subject.

'Steve... I have to find out who you are'

"On top of the desktop," he replies without taking his eyes off me.

"I'll go get them," the old lady shoots each of us a warning look before walking off. "I won't be long."

"And where did you come from, beauty?", he asks me with a seductive tone, once we are alone. "Has the Devil gone up to heaven to bring an angel?"

I lean my elbows on the kitchen island as I takes a strand of hair to twirl between my fingers. One simple word and I have him eating out of my hand. However, I don't get to open my mouth when the owner of my worst nightmares bursts into the place and throws the stranger to the ground with a punch.

I exclaim horrified at the unexpected scene. However, I am speechless when I feel his intense gaze on me.

Oh jesus! I am in trouble. Something tells me that these last few days have been just the beginning. The real torture begins now. He's going to kill me, I can tell from the fire which surrounds his expression. And from now on I am clear that it will be a painful death.