Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

“Aah!”, I g***n, cradling my head. It felt like it would burst any second now, not one of the hangovers had caused me to have such a pounding in my head and I’d had a lot of late nights and extremely terrible hangovers. But none had caused me to lose my mind from pain.

With much struggle, I managed to open my eyes. Squinting, I turned my head only to find the bright rays of the Sun streaming in through some window. My vision was still quite blurry and sleep-laden.

That’s when I realized that I was laying on a very soft cushion-like material which ‘surprise-surprise was a master bed.

Memories of last night suddenly flooded my mind, making me jump out of the bed in the span of a second with a sudden burst of energy. Panting, I slowly stood up straight to look around the room I was in.

It was an extremely spacious master bedroom with huge bay windows for ventilation. And there were…..Wait! There were windows! I could escape!

My gaze automatically travels to the huge glass slabs which completely occupied this side of the wall. There were two of them to be exact. I rushed to the one nearest to me and immediately tried to budge it open. No matter how I turned the lock, it wouldn’t open. Obviously, it wasn’t jammed. I rush over to the other gigantic window, relentlessly trying to somehow unlock it by squeezing the handle with all my might but it wouldn’t turn even an inch.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

It was locked….. I dolefully thought. Hopelessness overtook me yet again as my legs collapsed of their own accord and I dropped to the ice-cold floor.

‘Get a grip dammit’, my bitchy subconscious demanded of me

And for once I was thankful that she reprimanded me, bringing me back to reality.

With all the strength I could muster up, I got up to my feet. My body ached all over, every muscle felt like it’d been tied up in an unbearably tight knot.

My head spins for a moment before I can get a hold of myself and all my five senses start functioning properly.

Looking around the room, I first noticed how plainly but elegantly decorated it was. The theme was pale grey, giving it a solemn look. There were some black leather seats and navy-colored sofas with a small coffee table in the midst of them facing the end of the huge bed.

My gaze suddenly landed on a ceiling-high mirror placed just next to the bay window, in one corner of the room.

I let out an audible gasp once I took in my appearance.

It would suffice to say that I looked terrible. My hair, wild and untamed looked like a bird’s nest, various strands sticking out in innumerable directions. My black dress which had looked so beautiful on me last night looked utterly disheveled and ghastly now. My lipstick was smudged and my mascara made me look more like the ‘Joker’ than a normal human being. In short, I didn’t exactly look my best right now.

I mentally slapped myself for thinking more about my appearance than getting the hell out of here.

Running a hand down my person, I thoroughly inspected myself for any injury I may have. Surprisingly enough, there were none. Not even a scratch.

I racked my brain for memories of last night. There had been the club and then…… I left, I think. And then…..those margaritas I’d so boldly downed last night were making it hard for me to remember anything at all.

Aha! The bridge….. I was at the bridge, Pont Marie. And then there was Dennis…..

My eyes closed shut on their own as the events of last night flashed before my eyes.

Dennis’s murder……a-and, there had been b***d, lot’s of it. I felt bile rise in my throat, making me heave in disgust as I sat back down the bed, trying not to break.

I’d seen the look in Azriel’s eyes as the cold-blooded murder was committed by his assassins. It was cold and hard and severe and indifferent…… just emotionless.

One thing was clear to me, he’d done this a lot of times. He ordered his men to kill Dennis, his own friend, and business associate like killing people for absolutely no reason was his day job.

And my guess was that it really was his day job. You don’t get so rich and achieve an extremely high status in society without rolling some heads.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something which made me turn around on the bed to fully view it.

It was a door! A shiny light brown road!

Springing out of the bed, I was by the precious door in no time. Wasting not a single second, I immediately turned the knob. Disappointment descended down my previously hopeful self once I realized that it was locked too.

Of course it was locked. Sighing, I strolled away from it.

Just as I sat down on the bed, making the soft, white material sink under my weight, I heard the jingling of keys outside and an old lady coming in through the previously locked door.

I stood up yet again, shooting the nice-looking lady dressed in an apron a somewhat polite look. With a broom and a dust-pan in her hands, it looked like she was a cleaner here. Her grey hair had been pulled up into a tight bun and her sharp facial features gave her the look of a very strict principal although her eyes looked kind. The number of wrinkles on her face suggested that she was quite elderly but certainly not over 60.

Suddenly taking in the wide-open door, my eyebrows shot up with adrenaline singing in my veins.

“I wouldn’t advise that, dear”, the grey-haired lady said, apparently having read my mind as she gave me a concerned expression.

Ignoring her, I pushed past the door and was running down some gigantic stairs in no time. I suddenly paused just as I reached the end of the stairway, realizing that I had no idea where I was going. I desperately looked around, looking for some door or even a small window I could squeeze through.

I sprang into action once I caught sight of a door at the end of the hallway I was in. Without giving it another thought, I rushed toward it, hoping to God that it wasn’t locked.

“Where do you think you’re going?”, a man with a huge build and at least six-feet tall blocked my way to the door. And I felt despair enveloping me yet again as my escape seemed to disappear from my vision.

I tried to brush past him but before I could get into action, I felt myself being lifted up yet again and thrown on someone’s shoulder.

“Put me down!”, I screamed, beating against the man’s back but to no avail.

“Shut up, you little b***h”, he sneered, my upper body dangling on his shoulder. Lifting my head up, I noticed that the man who’d previously been blocking my way to the door shot me a weird look before he went back to reading the newspaper at the huge dining table placed in the midst of the kitchen and the stairway.

The massive man was now carrying me up the stairs, refusing to put me down from his shoulder. My escape seemed far away now, I realized, letting out a disappointed sigh. Gritting my jaw, I promised myself that I would plan my escape a bit more intricately next time!

“Don’t let this one out of your sight, Rosita”, I heard the man grumble before he entered my room and put me down near the bed. He was obviously either a soldier or a highly trained assassin, considering his build and stature.

Shooting me a glare, he walked out without throwing me another glance as he locked the door behind him and I heard his steps descending down the stairs.

I turned to Rosita with a meek frown etched on my face. Growing a bit red in the face at my ridiculous attempt at escaping, I cleared my throat to catch her attention.

“Please make yourself comfortable, Miss Dawson”, she politely told me, giving me a wide grin. She perhaps wasn’t aware that I was practically being held hostage.

“Ah, sure”, I awkwardly replied, frowning.

“Now, my employer would like you to be showered and dressed and fed”, she kindly told me, giving me a pitiful look.

So she was aware of my situation!

“What am I, a circus animal?”, I burst out at her, crossing my arms in front of my chest as she grimaced. Maybe I shouldn’t have yelled at her, I guiltily thought. It wasn’t she who trapped me here.

“Tell your employer that I won’t bend to his command and he cannot keep me locked up here. Tell that sick bastard that he needs to let me go!”, I defiantly tell her, fuming from anger.

Just the thought of him made my b***d boil.

Gritting my teeth, I sat back down on the bed, my back to her face as she stood near the other side of the bed.

“Miss Dawson, I understand that you’re not in the best condition here but I think it would be better if you did as Mr. Clarke said if you do not want one of his goons to manhandle you again”, I heard her say, making a shudder run down my spine from the thought of those men touching me. I just needed to do as he said till I came up with a plan to get the hell out of here! Yup, just a little while!

“Okay”, I tell her, getting up from the bed and walking over to her, making her look up at me in surprise. She’d probably thought it would take some more threats to coax me into listening to her. I considered giving her a snippy comment for her judgment of me but then thought the better of it.

“What do you want me to do?”, I ask her in the most timid and naive voice I could muster. She looked down on me like a grown-up looks down at a child.

Good for me!

Her thinking that I was all meek and innocent would really help my escape plan. So I decided to keep my smart mouth shut for now.

Nodding at me as she gave me a small smile as she put away her broom and dust-pan.

“You can go and take a shower in there”, she told me, motioning for me to follow her. Just on the left of the little seating area situated in front of the bed, there seemed to be the entrance to the en-suite bathroom. ‘How come I hadn’t noticed it before’, I lazily thought.

“There must be some towels on the shower-hangar. I’ll place the clothes you’re supposed to wear on your bed and you can get dressed once you’ve showered”, she suggested, trying her hardest to make me feel comfortable. I couldn’t help but appreciate the kind gesture.