Page 135 of Lost Paradise

“They wouldn’t.”

“Why not? They achieved this here on the island, which means the Americans were as well. The Cold War was a silent competition between the USSR and the USA for global supremacy. This included technology, economy, and military. Do you really believe human rights play any difference to these agencies? They wouldn’t openly conduct such manipulations of humans, but we, the public, have always been their test subjects for as long as people and elitist organizations are funding such causes.”

I look away because as much as I’d love to believe my father and grandfather were successful businessmen, I know you don’t get into the billionaire league without making sure you stay top dog.He has influential power in places I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking.

There was a time when I just looked at him as my distant father with whom I needed to make an appointment to chat, but being on this island has allowed me to think deeper, unrestrained, because I had nothing else to do. Of course, survival has always been our top priority, but this island and my situation here have forced me to rethink my life in a much bigger picture.

“Eve, how are you feeling, darling?” Foster’s smooth yet deep, sexy voice draws me out of my thoughts.

“I think I ate some bad seafood or something. It’s not just my stomach, but my head is killing me,” I say.

“Here,” Zane brings me a cup of fresh lagoon water, which we now store in one of the containers we got back from the facilities. We washed and boiled it several times before using it. "The headache might be dehydration. It’s been a hot morning.”

I take it from him, and I'm grateful for how the guys have been looking after me.

“Then stay here and relax,” Foster says, “The fellas and I will work on the boat for the remainder of the day. If you need anything, we’re only a stone’s throw away.” I can see the concern he’s hiding.

They all are, but I’m sure it’s just something I just ate, and it’ll be gone.

I watch Byron pack up his books and papers. He’s the last to leave.

“I could stay if you’d like, keep you company.”

“Then I’d be very boring company because all I want to do is close my eyes and lie in silence.”

He smirks, reaches out, and squeezes my forearm.

“Go help the guys; they need you more than I do right now.”

I watch him leave…well….mostly that sexy ass of his leave. I turn on my back and sigh. Despite having five boyfriends to satisfy me, I can’t help but be turned on by them all the fucking time.

A sudden wave of pain seizes my abdomen, sharp and insistent, pulling me from my thoughts. I clutch my stomach, feeling the deep, gnawing cramps intensify. It’s like a vise tightening around my insides, each squeeze more relentless than the last. My lower back throbs in response, sending sharp shooting pangs of discomfort up my spine.

I shift uncomfortably on the blanket, trying to find a position that offers some relief. The hut feels warmer, almost stifling, as a sheen of sweat breaks out on my forehead. I bite my lip, fighting the urge to curl up into a ball. The cramps come in waves, each one crashing harder than the previous, leaving me breathless and tense.

The dull, persistent ache is accompanied by a heavy, bloated sensation as if my lower body is weighed down by an invisible burden. I close my eyes, willing myself to breathe through the pain, each breath shallow and quick. The sensation is all-consuming, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Pulling the cover off, I find my white shorts stained with blood and a large dark red, almost black clot running down my inner thigh. Even Zane’s hoodie, which I’m wearing, has blood at the hem.

“Fuck, it’s my period,” I mutter. My doctor did warn me that I might suffer heavy periods for the first few months with the IUD, and then it would gradually phase out. But this is the last thing I need. It’s so embarrassing, and I haven’t got any tampons or sanitary pads. For fuck’s sake, we don’t even have toilet paper!

I fight back tears, refusing to let them fall. I don’t need this happening right now; it’s not fair. Looking out at the guys, they’re engrossed in working on the boat and haven’t noticed my struggle.

Quickly, I gather my things and sprint to the lagoon, hoping to clean up and find some semblance of relief.

Frantically scrubbing at the blood stains on my white shorts and Zane's hoodie, tears well up in my eyes. Each rub of the fabric feels like an accusation, a reminder of my body's betrayal. The cramps twist and tighten in my abdomen, relentless and unforgiving. I curse under my breath, my movements desperate and frantic.

Why now? Why me? I've never felt so helpless, stuck on this remote island with nothing to alleviate the agony of my heavy period.

"I can't get these stains out," I mutter through gritted teeth, pounding on the fabric as tears stream down my cheeks.

The stains mock me, refusing to yield to my desperate efforts. The scrubbing makes my hands ache, and the relentless motion numbs my fingers. I curse under my breath, my frustration and helplessness mounting with each passing moment.

This island, once a placeof refuge, now feels like a prison as I struggle with the simplest of tasks.

“Ugh!” I shriek.

“Princess?”

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