Chapter Three: The Cold Treatment

Elena’s POV 

The bed felt so soft, the smell from the bed sheet smelt different. I rolled over, the bed quite bigger than the bed I was used to. My hands slowly pat the empty side of the bed only to feel pillows, as I turned, a sharp beam of light flashes through the curtains poking my eyes. I squinted immediately, my hands rubbing my eyes. 

I turned to see a man standing by the window side at the other end. I looked at the room, taking it all in. The large floor to ceiling window was draped in expensive curtains and the room was large enough to contain five king size beds. By the corner of the room was a mini bar with all kinds of wines in stock. I turned, my eyes darting towards the empty wine glass on the bed side table, a half burnt cigarette and a half filled glass of wine. 

My gaze went back to the man standing by the window. He was adjusting his cufflinks, he stood there not bothered by my obvious confusion. I tried to recall what happened but my head aches, it suddenly felt heavy and I had to hold up my head with my hand. My hair fell over my face as I threw it back, beneath the bedsheets was my naked body. My grip tightened on the bedsheets upon realization. 

“Get up and get dressed then leave.” 

The man at the window at the other end of the room said. At first I wasn't sure if he was talking to me, so I turned, searching for another imaginary figure in the room but it was only me. 

“Sir…” I spitted out. “Did we…did we have sex?” I asked, finally summoning the courage to ask the question that was lingering on my mind like a plague. My ABS was acting up again. I had poor alcohol control and with my ABS even a drop could make me tipsy. 

“Last night was a mistake. It never happened.” The man said. His actions afterwards disgusted me. He brought out a bundle of cash from his pocket, throwing it on top of the bed. 

The bundle was heavily stacked with hundred dollar bills and I could swear the total money could amount to a hundred thousand dollars [$100,000]. My gaze darted from the cash on the bed to the man on the window side. 

“What's the meaning of this?” I asked. I felt disgusted that I literally wanted to throw up. 

“Oh!,” He said laughing. He turned, his eyes meeting mine. “How pathetic of you! You want more?” He asked. His hand dipping into his side pocket to bring out more money—I guess. 

I picked up the pillow and threw it at him. “I'm not a prostitute you bastard. How dare you touch me? You took advantage of me!” I yelled. 

The pillow fell off his hands after the impact. He looked at the pillow that rested on his well polished business loafers shoe as his gaze darted back to me. 

“Well, here we go again. The frantic stage where they pretend that they didn't want this so I could throw more money at them.” He said. He kicked the pillow off his foot as he walked closer to me. 

“What do you mean? Are you nuts?” I yelled. 

The man approached bringing out another bundle of money. He used it to hit my face. 

“Shut up bitch.” 

He kept repeating it as he slammed my face with each bundle of money. At that moment, I was supposed to channel the tigress energy in me but I felt weak and numb. I couldn't even move. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I observed the scene. 

“Crying? That's a new one. Was the money not enough?” He said, his hands went down into his pocket to bring out another bundle. 

My hands were swift as it landed a slap on his face, his glasses fell on the floor, the lenses turning to pieces on the floor. For a moment I stood there on my knees on top of the bed watching my reaction and I couldn't help but wonder. What have I just done? 

I didn't know how he would react. I had expected him to land a slap on my face but he only stood up straight, spitting out blood from his mouth onto my face. He wore a devilish smile on his face that tended to mock me of my plague. He turned, his back facing me as he walked out of the hotel room. He slammed the door heavily on my face making a loud thud that I feared would break the chandelier that was almost dangling in the ceiling. 

I fell on the bed, tears streaming down my face. How did I get here? What happened? Who was that man and why were we in the same bed together? I stood up from the bed, the bedsheets falling off my body exposing my bare skin to the cold early morning breeze. 

I walked through the room looking at the mess. My silk gown pooled on the floor like a transparent lake while my heels were in two different places as if imitating the ears on our head. My mind immediately raced to my purse. Where was it? My eyes scanned the room until I discovered my purse on top of the bar I had spotted earlier. 

I walked towards it with my hands reaching for it but a slight ache in my head made me stagger backwards a bit. I placed my hands on my head, my eyes tightly shut as I tried to balance my thoughts and head. After what felt like eternity, I opened my eyes, my hands grabbing my purse. 

I dug inside, my hands reaching for my phone. My phone had two messages. I tapped on the notifications and the message popped up on my screen. 

“Where are you Elena!.”

“Have you seen the news?”

They were messages from my sister Maggie. What news? I felt a sharp headache, I wasn't ready for all of this. 

I shoved my phone into my bag as I walked back to my silk lake on the floor picking it up and putting it on. I took my heels and wore them. I walked towards the mirror, my hands running through my hair as I took a last glance before walking out of the bedroom. 

I walked into the hallway, eyes from other exciting girls fixed on me like they've just seen a ghost. I didn't know what I did wrong. Was it my outfit? Was it my hair? I just felt so out of place and I knew immediately that I didn't fit in! I needed to remember how I got here in the first place and that would be done over a plate of hangover soup. 

I strode out of the hotel booking a cab to a nearby restaurant. I sat at the restaurant, a plate of hangover soup readily served before me. I dived in taking scoops like I was coming from a seven day fasting. As I sat there taking in the scoops, my thoughts that once appeared fragmented began to add up. I could remember what happened that night

and what led to me and a strange man lying on the same bed.