6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

-Alison-

I remained in my seat for at least 10 minutes, expecting something to happen, but nothing transpired. I sat before the untouched food until staff members came to remove it, inquiring if there was anything else I desired. Politely, I shook my head, then began tapping my finger against the table. This feels odd , I thought to myself, wondering why Louis was granting me such freedom.

When a staff member approached to take my plate, I grew curious. "Um, am I supposed to wait for something?" I asked.

"Wait for something?" she echoed, looking puzzled.

"Yes, wait," I reiterated.

She furrowed her brow at me. "Have you requested a specific dish?"

"No," I replied.

"Then I'm not sure."

"Ah, well, thank you," I said, nodding as she departed. Soon, the room was empty of plates and food. Had Louis truly allowed me the freedom to move around? I hesitated to believe it, yet boredom began to set in. I rose from my seat and walked toward the exit. Peeking out into the hallway, I observed the quiet surroundings before venturing out, finding myself in a new room—a living room. Although I knew he wouldn't make my escape that easy, I couldn't resist checking the windows and doors, seeking a path to freedom. But there was nothing...

I heard a floorboard creak, and then I spotted a big, burly man standing in the doorway. His gaze was fixed on me, yet he made no move.

"Can I help you?" I inquired, but he remained silent. "Ah, my watcher, am I correct?"

He maintained his silent stance, prompting me to roll my eyes. However, if I had the freedom to roam, why not seize the opportunity to explore? With caution, I approached the man, waiting to see his reaction, yet he remained rooted in place. Slipping past him, I glanced back over my shoulder to find him turning around, a neutral expression on his face. Nodding to myself, I concluded that he was simply here to keep an eye on me. Thus, I embarked on my exploration.

I wandered through numerous hallways, peeking into every accessible room, though some were locked. As I approached the house's entrance, I noticed my watcher tensing. Was the door open? I refrained from investigating, aware that he would likely intervene, and instead proceeded to the next floor, continuing my quest for discovery.

Most doors up here were open, except for two. Behind one, I could hear voices—one of them presumably Louis's. As I approached the second door and reached for the handle, I noticed something peculiar. My watcher watched me intently, twitching slightly as if on the verge of intervening, yet he refrained. I turned to him slowly, then gestured down the hallway.

"Is that Louis's office?" I inquired.

"Yes," he replied.

"Oh, he speaks," I remarked dryly. "So, I'm not allowed access, I understand that. But what about this door? Is it his bedroom?" I pointed toward the closed door.

He remained silent.

"Well?" I pressed, but he offered no response.

"Hello?" I tried again, but he maintained his silence, giving me a vacant stare.

"Are you serious?" I muttered, placing my hands on my hips. Then I heard a sound from the other side of the door. Curiosity piqued, I stepped closer, only to have the man tsk at me, redirecting my attention to him with a shake of his head.

"Why? What's behind the door?" I inquired.

"You don't have access," he repeated.

"No kidding," I snapped.

"Step away."

"Or what?" I challenged, a growl creeping into my voice.

He didn't need to tell me. We both understood the consequences, yet I didn't step away immediately. Instead, I stood my ground, challenging him. However, when he took a step forward, I finally relented, moving away from the door. I continued on to my assigned room, but I couldn't help glancing back, wondering where that door led.

Upon reaching my room, I sat on the bed, contemplating how to occupy myself. My watcher remained in the doorway, a silent guard, as I sat there. Leaning forward, I felt the weight of everything crashing down on me. My thoughts inevitably circled back to Jared. By now, he must have realized I had disappeared. Strangely enough, I couldn't help but imagine him furious, tearing the place apart. I knew he probably vowed me a punishment, as he did with his enemies. Strangely, I anticipated that punishment. I desired it because it meant returning to our old roles and finding safety in his arms once more.

I wrapped my own around myself, rocking back and forth. Despite having been through this before, I couldn't help feeling overwhelmed. Though Louis hadn't laid a hand on me, it was difficult to keep the memories at bay. The uncertainty and the fear of being disposed of left me bewildered and frightened. I fervently hoped that Jared would find me soon because I could feel myself losing grip on reality.

I barely noticed time passing, but at every meal, Louis insisted on us eating together. My unease grew as I wondered why he was so determined to spend time with me. He drank at every meal too, which alarmed me greatly. Dealing with a dangerous man like Louis was one thing, but dealing with a drunk version of him was another. It became evident from the way he started to slur his words that he had a problem. He resembled my mother too much, bringing back childhood memories I'd rather forget.

Another day passed in a similar fashion. I didn't do much other than explore, read some books, and gaze out into the air, praying for Jared to find me soon. However, during the second dinner we had, I was ordered to change my attire. Louis entered the room with a strange aura surrounding him and tossed the dress at me.

"No," I stated firmly.

"No?" he echoed, his voice carrying an edge that indicated he had no patience for my defiance tonight.

"No," I repeated, lifting my chin defiantly. "I'm not a dress-up doll."

"You are whatever I tell you to be," he declared, pointing at me. "Wear the damn dress."

"No."

Louis's eyes showed that I was pushing my luck, but I remained steadfast. He stormed over to me, and before I knew it, he slapped me, sending my head to the side and leaving a burning ache.

"You will do as I say, do you hear me?" he snarled, grabbing my hair and forcing me to look at him. "Do you hear me?"

I glared at him, knowing I held no power here. I could glare but not protest, at least not if I wanted to avoid a beating. I nodded, and he pushed me away, causing me to stumble. I turned toward the bathroom, hoping to change in private, but Louis ordered me to stay, insisting that I change in front of him and my watcher.

"You can't be serious," I snarled.

"Change," he ordered.

I glanced at my watcher. "Does he have to stay?"

"Yes," came the firm reply.

I understood the purpose behind this humiliation, but I despised being brought to such a degrading state. With my chin held high, I proceeded to change. I ripped off my pants and shirt with angry movements while Louis watched with a pleased smile. I quickly donned the dress and zipped it up, glaring at him once more. He then instructed me to put on the heels that were on the floor. Reluctantly, I complied, but as I looked down at myself, I felt more akin to a streetwalker than someone about to dine with a "respectable" companion.

"Why am I wearing this?" I asked, a sense of dread creeping in, fearing Louis might finally decide to act on his desires.

"Because I'm telling you to," he replied curtly.

He then pulled something from his pocket, and before I could fully discern what it was, he sprayed it on me. I coughed, recoiling from the overpowering sweetness of the perfume.

"What on earth is that?" I asked, waving my hand in front of me to dispel the scent.

This time, Louis sniffed the air around me, appearing satisfied, as if he relished the scent he had chosen.

"Perfect," he declared. "It's just as bad as I remember."

"What?" I whispered, but he offered no explanation.

"Now, let's go eat," he commanded.

When I hesitated, he spun around, gripping my arm with a forceful hold and guiding me along. It felt odd to realize that in these heels, I stood taller than him. I wondered if they could be of any use, perhaps even serve as a weapon. However, my watcher trailed behind us, a formidable presence much larger than me. I knew I didn't stand a chance.

Louis led me downstairs, forcibly seating me at the dining table before taking his own seat with a smirk.

"Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he taunted.

I glared at him, refusing to engage in his games, and instead waited for him to commence dinner. Only when he began eating did I tentatively reach for something as well. However, each movement of my jaw sent sparks of pain through my cheek and face. He hadn't held back when he slapped me, and I knew I would bear bruises, if not swelling, as a result.

We ate in silence once again, with him downing a few drinks, and I felt my fears growing. I felt like little Alison again, forced into those uncomfortable dinners with her parents where we all pretended to be a happy family. My father would barely be present, and my mother would drink, feigning interest as she asked me about school and grades. Yet if my storytelling didn't meet her expectations, I would feel the sting of her disapproval.

I tried not to let the memories affect me, though my hand trembled as I brought the pieces of meat toward my lips. I could barely taste the food, consumed by fear. Where are you, Jared? I thought, stealing a glance at Louis, who barely seemed to acknowledge me. Soon, I couldn't bear the silence any longer.

"Tell me, does this dinner serve a purpose?" I inquired.

"Hm?" he asked.

"Does this dinner, or the previous ones, serve some sort of purpose? Why do you want to eat with me?" I pressed.

"Because I know you hate it," he replied.

"Don't you hate it too?"

"I don't mind finding it unpleasant, knowing you hate it more," he stated.

It reminded me a lot of Jared in the beginning of our relationship. He didn't seek to bring me pleasure. Rather, the idea that I despised it thrilled him because he believed I hated it.

"I see," I replied coolly, attempting to maintain my composure.

I managed to force down a few more bites before leaning back in my seat.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked.

"Not really."

"Eat anyway."

"I think I'm full."

He slammed his hand onto the table, causing me to startle as the plates clattered.

"Eat," he commanded, his gaze unsettling. I sensed an undercurrent of something ominous in his demeanor.

I reluctantly reached for my fork, spearing a piece of potato and resuming my meal. As his agitation subsided, the tension in the room eased, and we continued our dinner in silence. When he finished, he abruptly stood and left, leaving me alone. With his departure, I felt a sense of relief wash over me, and I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly.

As the staff began clearing the table, I decided to assist, seeking to occupy my restless hands. They assured me it wasn't necessary, but I persisted, finding solace in the distraction. Together, we carried the remaining dishes into the kitchen, where the bustling activity provided a temporary reprieve.

Amidst the task, I noticed a tray laden with fresh, steaming food and a glass of milk. Curiosity piqued, I approached, wondering who the meal was intended for. A young woman beside me cleared her throat, prompting me to step aside so she could retrieve the tray.

"Who is that for?" I inquired, but she simply walked away, leaving me to ponder the unanswered question.

With my curiosity fully engaged, I trailed after the woman, who either chose to ignore me or was unaware of my presence. We ascended to the next floor, where she headed toward a room not far from mine, a room that was locked. Retrieving a key from her pocket, she unlocked the door and disappeared inside, tray in hand. It dawned on me: someone was occupying that room.

Driven by my desire to know more, I approached, but a sound behind me alerted me to my watcher's presence.

"Don't go over there," he commanded.

"Why not? Who is in there?"

"You aren't allowed inside," he replied firmly.

"Yeah, I got that part. But who's in there?" I persisted.

"You should go back to your room," he insisted.

"Not until I know who is in there. Is the door locked to protect them or to keep them inside?" I challenged.

He offered no response, merely observing me in silence. I sighed, feeling defeated, but then the door creaked open once more. I watched as the woman emerged, locking the door behind her. My gaze lingered on the closed door, yearning to uncover its secrets.