Billionaire Daredevil In Love

Chapter 9



CLAYTON.

It was a rough morning.

I got engaged and busy immediately after I reached the office, and it reminded so till the middle of the day. Even though I was busy, for some reason, I still had my mind on Nadine.

I called the butler to ask him how the call had gone.

“Did you get her the phone?” I asked him.

“I did, sir,” he said.

“And she spoke to her sister?”

“Well, sir,” he said, “she was not able to reach her sister, but then she put another call across to a friend and asked that the friend watch over her sister.”

“I see,” I said, stroking my chin. “Make sure she gets enough food, water, wine, or whatever she needs, just make sure she remains inside of that room. Under no circumstance should you let her out.”

“Yes, sir,” he responded, and I knew he would act according to the instructions I gave him. I trusted him; he was one of the most dedicated workers that I had. I stood and went to attend another meeting, even though I had been exhausted.

It was a long day.

Nadine.

I had never felt such languor in all my life. There was absolutely nothing to do inside the red room. I noticed a door by the side and discovered that it led to the bathroom. I had a bath, and that was all. I began to feel sleepy and had almost nodded off when I heard a knock; it was the butler again.

“Ahh, thank God,” I said. “I was going crazy already in this seclusion.”

“Good afternoon,” he said. “Are you doing all right?”

“All right?!” I said in a half yell. “Didn’t you hear me just say the seclusion is driving me fucking nuts?”

“Oh,” he said. I noticed that he was carrying a book in his hand.

It looked like a novel.

“What is that?” I asked him. “What do you even want?”

I sat on the bed and crossed my legs.

“Ohh, this?” he said, holding up the book. “It’s a novel, a crime novel. I thought you would want something to read while you’re in here all alone.”

“Well, isn’t that considerate of you?” I said mockingly.

I gestured for him to bring the book and he did. I skimmed through it; it was an Agatha Christie novel; one I had not read before.

“Is there something else you’d like?” He asked and I lifted my head from the novel. “Something I can get you? Mr. Clayton has said you should be made comfortable.”

“Tell Mr. fucking Clayton that I want out of this fucking cell,” I yelled. “Tell him I want to go back home to my fucking life. There, that would make me comfortable as a fish in water.”

He was startled by my shouting but said nothing. He walked to the corner where the refrigerator was and opened it.

“If you need any beverage,” he said, “I hope you know you can get it from here.”

I looked at him standing in that corner and looked at the door. If I was fast enough, I would make it out of the room before he could catch me. I got on my feet and raced to the door. Just as I stepped out of the doorway, he caught me in the midriff with such strength that resistance was foolish. He lifted me and hurled me on the bed.

“What the fuck was that?!” He said loudly. It was the first time I heard him swear.

“Well, what the fuck did it look like?” I yelled back.

“You’re not to leave this place,” he asserted.

“Oh, please,” I scoffed, straightening myself on the bed.

“I’ll have to tell Mr. Clayton about this,” he said, turned, and left. I heard him lock the door.

A part of me wished I had not tried to escape. There was no telling what Clayton would do to me now. Besides I had not told the butler that I still wanted to speak to Naomi and ask after my sister. I went to the refrigerator, took out a can of Diet Coke, and began to sip it.

Clayton.

It was the evening before I left work, absolutely tired and in dire need of rest.

While in a meeting, the butler called several times, but I could not pick up for obvious reasons. I decided that I’d talk to him when I got home.

“Welcome, sir,” he said, when he met me at the door, taking my suitcase from me and leading me inside.

“Why did you call me so many times?” I asked, going straight to the issue.

“Erm, we had a little incident,” he said.

“Oh, Christ!” I spoke. “What the fuck happened? Did Nadine somehow slit her wrist and bled to death or something?”

“No, not that, sir,” he said.

I sighed, relieved. A part of me had been scared that something like that would happen. We were on the stairs that led to my room now.

“What then happened?” I asked him.

“She tried to escape,” he let out.

“What?!?!” I spoke. I felt anger rise in me like a wave and spread all over my body. I turned and went back downstairs, towards the basement, the butler trailing behind.

NADINE.

I decided that I would apologize to Clayton. There was no way to escape from here, and I resolved in my mind that as long as Anna was taken care of, I could do the 6-month stint here. I would beg Clayton to allow me at least to talk to Naomi again; I would be heartbroken otherwise.

It was late when I heard the sound of feet just outside. I could tell Clayton was back.

“Open the fucking door,” his harsh voice said.

I knew he was instructing the butler.

The door clicked and he walked in, all menacing and threatening. He walked straight to where I was and slapped me hard on the cheek, twice.

“Stupid fucking bitch!”


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