When Jean opened her eyes again, she was in an unfamiliar place.
Jean’s first thought was that she had somehow died on the way back to New York, because the only thing she could see as she opened her eyes was… WHITE.
Am I in heaven?
She wondered, and then she felt herself laugh hysterically because if heaven truly existed, then that would be the last place that would accept her.
Jean took in a deep breath, and her nose was filled with the smell of summer breeze mixed with vanilla, a smell that Jean’s mind had already registered with Michael Marquez.
Jean shot to a sitting position quickly, and the speed with which she moved caused her head to spin and throb painfully; for a minute, the room Jean was in was upside down.
Jean took a moment to calm herself, taking deep, slow breaths, and when she was sure that she was fine, she lifted her head and properly looked at the room she had found herself in.
The first thing Jean really noticed was that the room was big.
No, calling the room big would be a huge understatement.
The room was massive.
Just ahead, in front of Jean was a wide space that had a dark, circular rug, different from the deep red that seemed to occupy every inch of the room.
Jean figured that it was a sitting area as it contained three white sofas that sat in a semicircle, with a glass table in the middle.
In front of the sitting area was a wide, flat-screen television that hung on the wall, just above the artificial fireplace.
It was a mere sitting area, but it was so big that it could pass for the living room of a small house.
Jean brought her eyes back to the TV, and it was bigger and wider than any TV she had ever seen.
The TV was on, but Jean could not hear a sound.
On the screen of the television was the unmistakable face of Michael.
A picture of him was on the screen, and he was dressed in his dark suit, as always.
His hair was perfectly combed, and he had a handsome smile on his face.
Right under the picture, there was a writing; it said: HEADLINE: Billionaire Michael Marquez announces engagement and wedding in two weeks to a mysterious lady.
Shortly after, Michael’s picture disappeared, and a lady dressed in a green gown took over the screen, her mouth moving as she stared straight at the camera.
Marriage In Two Weeks.
Jean took a shaky breath, and as she pushed away the bed cover from over her body, she gave a small, startled yelp.
Her clothes, they were… gone, replaced by a nightgown.
The nightgown Jean found herself in was black, a silk black one that looked and smelled expensive.
Jean’s heart began to thunder painfully in her chest at the implication of what had happened.
Jean felt terribly violated, and her pulse raced with the sudden need to run away from here, or kill Michael.
Things started to make sense for Jean.
It was no wonder she felt sore after just waking up, and why she had no memory of falling asleep or getting into this room.
Did he drug me?
Jean shuddered at the thought and pushed herself off the bed, setting one foot after the other gently on the red rug.
Jean walked carefully to the first door she could find, to the far left of the room, and when she opened it, it turned out to be a bathroom unlike any she had ever seen.
The bathroom was ridiculously big in size, such that to one side of the bathroom was a massive hot tub and to the other side was a state of the art toilet that looked more like an alien spacecraft than a toilet.
Straight ahead was the shower, separated from the rest of the bathroom by some sort of big glass box.
Jean looked to her right where she had paused by the door, and she found a basin, white as snow, just like almost every other thing in the bathroom and bedroom.
Above the basin was a mirror that was fixed to the door of an also white cabinet.
Jean stared at her face in the mirror for a while.
Her eyes were slightly swollen, her cheeks were puffy, her hair was messy and tangled in knots.
Jean looked like a mad person, and she blinked a couple of times before reaching up and opening the moderately big cabinet.
Inside the cabinet, Jean found all sorts of things.
Toothbrush, toothpaste, multiple brushes for hair, shampoo of various kinds, all popular and expensive brands.
There were lotions for the face and body too.
Jean could not remember the last time she’d had a proper bath, and so she looked to the left to find a rack holding two pairs of white thick towels and two sets of white bathrobes.
Without a second thought, Jean locked the door behind her and stripped out of the nightgown and then inspected every inch of her body.
There were no obvious signs that Michael had done anything to her, but that did not make Jean any less afraid of the man who was Michael Marquez.