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Mirella POV

I was led back to the room after breakfast and instructed to remain there.

Which I did throughout the day.

I was served fruit for lunch, and for some reason, I was able to fall asleep in the meantime. The door to the room opens as I sit by the window, gazing out at the ocean.

"Miss." I look over and find the little child from before standing there. He says, "Would you like to go to the beach?"

"Am I permitted?"

"If you wish to leave, I have permission to take you down."

"Please remain with me. I turn my back on him and resume looking out the window, my mind still a chaotic mix of ideas.

Was I loved by Cole?

Or did he not see me at all?

Was I nothing at all the time?

You ponder about a lot of things when you are alone yourself with your thoughts. Makes you consider things that, in the absence of life's distractions, you would not often spend time on.

A girlish chuckle comes to my attention, and the room's door is pulled open. A female walks in wearing a little black dress and long black hair, so I remain where I am near the window. 

She enters, looks at me, and stops. She almost bares her fangs as she snarls at me, but she pauses as Ernest enters the room from behind.

"You're company," she informs him. I detest having to share you, you know. I avert my gaze and return my focus to the window. I don't want to listen in on this discussion or be involved in anything that could occur behind me. Screw it!

"Go down on your knees." At his direction, my back straightens, but as I turn to look over my shoulder, I realize he's speaking to her rather than to me. But he's just got eyes for me. I immediately turn away from her since I don't want to get involved as I hear her unzipping him.

Although a part of me wants to turn around and watch, the better part of me knows not to since I'm not a nun and I know what she's going to do. Rather, I pay attention.

"Observe." This time, I know he's talking to me. The way he talks, I can feel it in my bones; it's purposeful, harsh, and designed to show off his dominance. I turn to face them slowly, letting my gaze drop to the tiles before it reaches her black heels. I then glide gently up her dress till I see his hand on the back of her head, guiding her lips to his cock. As she gives him a good suck, her head shakes back and forth.

Those wolf-like, black eyes never leave me. When I clench my lips and give a disgusted face, he smirks as if that's the emotion he wants to see. He then tightens his hold on the girl's hair and rams his cock into the back of her throat. He doesn't stop, even though I can hear her coughing. As he licks his lips and continues to penetrate her mouth, the lady on her knees holds his hips and takes anything she can get. His eyes are crazy.

What on earth is going on?

And why am I observing?

The most crucial question, however, is why, in light of what I'm seeing, my nipples are becoming harder under this dress?

With an animalistic grunt, he approaches her, pushes her away, replaces his cock in his trousers, and moves aside.

"Go now."

She glances back at me, wipes her lips, and rises. She glares at me through narrowed, enraged eyes, then turns away, her heels clicking as she goes.

I sarcastically remark, "What a show," while concealing my trembling palms and firm nipples with my arms crossed over my chest.

It was a poor decision, and I know it the instant I say it. I see him suck his teeth, look up, and then turn to face me, walk out the door, and slam it behind him.

With the door bang once again.

That one with the anger problems.

Childish conduct.

I attempt to calm myself down by turning back to the window, but it doesn't work. He knew I was here and insisted that I watch, so I simply watched that guy have a blowjob.

What kind of a guy is this?

And why is it a question I ask myself so often?

I make the decision to get up and open the closet door. There are several suits in it. Black ones, all of which are really pricey. I can tell he is wealthy because of the manner he lives and the fact that he employs staff.

I'm feeling my fingertips through a suit jacket, and I twitch when I hear someone talking.

"Miss." It's the boy again.

I ask, "Do you do anything else besides check up on me?"

"Miss, this is my job. Could I walk you outside right now, please?

"Is this a request?" I inquire. He gives me a perplexed expression. "Do I really have to leave?"

"All right, then, I can take you outside."

"No, please. I don't want to leave." I keep rummaging through Ernest's wardrobe. "Where are we now?" We can't be too far from New York, I know that, but how far?

Coney Island, Ms. Whoa, I didn't anticipate that.

"I'm grateful."

"Greetings." And then I hear him backing away. I look everywhere, but I find nothing at all. He doesn't have any secret places or anything I could pry into. I thought I may locate a phone. Naturally, however, he would make it difficult for me to communicate with the outside world.

"This is your spouse." I turn around and find Ernest waiting at the entrance, having returned so quickly.

His remarks have stunned me, and I'm not even sure whether I want to see my total flake of a spouse. I then pose the question, "Do you know what your name means?" to him. I veer off topic.

"Would you please educate me?" he asks, standing still.

He laughs when I call him "the dark one," alluding to the meaning of his name.

"After all, clever. Follow me now. He doesn't ask me how I know what his name means, and I have no idea how to tell him. That's what I did when I was trying to become pregnant: I looked up baby names in baby books. Despite the connotation of the name, I can still recall liking it.

It fits him well. Ernest.

Asshole.

Ernest calls out my name, "Mirella," and I hurry to catch up with him. He leads me to the dining room along the same path I used, and as I get closer, I find my husband standing there, one hand resting on a chair, watching me come. His visage is expressionless, devoid of care or concern for my well-being. He doesn't seem to give a damn about the possibility that I was raped or tortured.

"Cole." He grins as my lips quiver with surprise at his name. I don't grin back at him.

"Nice to see you again." He moves toward me, then stops and turns to face Ernest. I follow suit, and I watch as he shakes his head at Cole. I'm grateful because I may knee him where his sperm does not shine if he touched me right now. He turns at Ernest and says, "Look... can I have a minute with her?" while scratching the back of his head.

Ernest answers without delay, "No," putting an end to any debate.

Cole turns to face me once again, and I recognize the expression on his face from years of experience. He's going to try to convince me of something. He always does it so well, and I listen to him for some silly reason. Even obey, like a devoted wife would.

"This is your lipstick, right here." I give my shoulder a tap, pointing to a crease in his rumpled shirt. "Were you aware?" Cole gives it a quick look before shaking his head.

"Only until I receive the funds." We may go when I get the money. A vacation just like you've always wanted," he begs me.

Untruths.

I've always wanted to leave America, but he's never wanted to, and we never had a honeymoon. I tried not to miscarry, we remained at home, and he went to work. I don't want to go back into that destructive loop.

Even if things aren't going well for me right now, it's time to break away from this pattern.

I notice that look, Mirella. You know we are meant to be, so stop thinking that way. Nobody would handle you the way I do. Nobody will love you as much as I do. With his hands reaching out to touch my face, he advances closer. I remain still, taken aback that he would consider touching me at this moment.

Is he forgetting that he just sold me?

"Cole, you have only one love." At what I say, he grins. "You." In the instant it takes me to blink, his demeanor shifts as he lets go of his grin and inhales through his teeth.

He turns away from me and says to Ernest, "You may hold onto the bitch."

"You can't sell me to you!" I shout at him in return.

Cole whips around to face me, his fingers snagging on my cheeks. "You are everything I want for you to be. You will now also be whatever he desires. Mirella, because you are nothing. You have no one and no one likes you.

My jaw drops in horrified amazement at his remarks, thinking that after all I've done to win his approval, he could still say such a thing to me. "You are really cruel."

He draws back, totally unmoved, shrugging. "You just didn't see it because you were too blind, and you only saw the best in people." Your parents forewarned you. He gives out a win-like grin, seeming pleased with his victory. He is smug. Despite my parents' advice not to wed him, I was naive enough to think Cole loved me and could rescue me from my current situation. How foolish I was.

"Are you in love with me?" Not that it will make a difference, but I just have to know.

He chews his lips as if he's thinking about how to respond to me, then blurts out, "You simply didn't want to accept that we both fell out of love with each other a while ago. You stopped enjoying my kisses, retreated from me, and withdrew from our relationship.

Honestly, I never like the way he kissed me or how he had sex.

Alternatively, fuck. Anything at all.

Ernest is observing us from the corner of my eye, acting as if this exchange is boring him. I can't really hold it against him for his lack of empathy, but I think we definitely are. Why should he give a damn about our life and marriage when I don't care if I ever see Cole again?

You've got a week to settle this loan. I will only offer you that. That's when I'm leaving. 

Furthermore, it is your concern, not mine, if this individual decides to murder you because you haven't paid. I also want my phone returned. I have job to do. I fold my arms over my chest and flick my gaze back to Cole when Ernest doesn't respond.

"In a week, I can't get that kind of money!" Cole is so daring to scream at me.

"Perhaps you ought to have considered that before you..." I turn my back on him and stop caring, so I don't bother completing.

I approach Ernest on foot. "I'm ready to return to my room at this time."

Ernest gives me a nod, which is all the response I receive from him before I leave the room.

"You have no say in how long you stay here," Cole yells as I approach the door. "You are my payment and my collateral."

I glance over my shoulder at Ernest, who is still. He observes me for a while, then turns to face Cole. "You have one week," he informs Cole before sauntering out of the room and past me. I give him a big grin and then, with a little more bounce in my stride, I follow Ernest.

Cole, screw you!

Fuck him in every manner till Sunday.

I say, "Thank you."

I hear a loud scream as we approach the door, followed by Cole cursing. Upon reentering the room, I see Cole on the ground, restrained by two guys.

"You weren't meant for that. Never assume that whatever I do is for you. I need a little push to receive my money and fuck you straight off since I just realized you're not worth the cash he owes me. His words cause my eyes to widen. "Go fucking to sleep."

Then he vanishes.