Page 21 of Twisted Obsession

"Better take it to the boss, just in case," the other replies.

More footsteps, then the door closes. The key turns in the lock again. I stay frozen in place, hardly daring to breathe, straining my ears for any sound of their return. Minutes tick by in agonizing slowness.

Finally, when I'm sure they're gone, I cautiously slide out from under the bed. My muscles are stiff and sore from being held so tense. I brush the dust from my clothes and hair, then creep to the door and press my ear against it. Silence.

What did they find? My mind races, trying to think of anything I might have left out that could give me away. But I'm certain Iwas thorough in my cleaning. Then, a chilling thought strikes me—the book I was reading… What did I do with it?

I do another frantic sweep of the room, checking every surface, every drawer. Nothing seems out of place, but I can’t find the paperback anywhere. My panic is rising again. If they found something suspicious enough to take to their boss, how long before they come back for a more detailed search?

I need to get out of here. Now.

But where can I go? I think they left the door open in their rush, but the hallway is too risky–they could return at any moment. and I have no idea where to go. Plus, I’d be on CCTV. Dominic managed to wipe it all the other times he moved me.

My gaze falls on the window. We're only on the second floor. It's a drop, but not an impossible one. I already know it’s locked. It’s the first thing I checked when Dominic left me here. Desperately, I look around for something to break the glass, settling on the heavy base of the bedside lamp.

Just as I'm about to smash the window, I hear voices in the hall again. They're coming back.

Panicking, I replace the lamp, but I don’t have time to dive back under the bed, as the keys are already rattling in the door.

I dive into the bathroom, praying they won't check it again this time. Then I hold my breath and clench my teeth together to stop them from chattering. My heart is pounding so heavily, I’m sure it might be heard.

As I press myself against the wall behind the door, I can hear the men entering the room again. Their footsteps are heavier this time, more purposeful.

"Check under the bed," a voice orders, and I can hear the frame being dragged away from the wall and the mattress being flipped.

“Nope, nothing here. I told you there wasn’t room for anyone to hide under there. The book must have been left by whoever stayed here last.”

"Search everything again, anyway" a new voice commands. It's deeper, more authoritative than the others. "Tear the place apart if you have to."

I screw my eyes shut. This is it. I’m about to be discovered.

“Is there a problem here?”

My eyes fly open as a stern woman’s voice sounds within the room.

“What’s it to you, Margarita?” One of the men asks.

There’s a harrumphing noise. “Don’t take that tone with me, Eduardo,” the woman says. “Tina here is supposed to be moving into this room. It’s her new quarters.”

“Come here girl, let me look at you.”

There’s a shocked squeak, and a scuffle, like someone’s just been manhandled.

“That’s not her,” another voice says. “Girl we’re looking for is a redhead with pale skin, not an Italian.”

“Eduardo!” The woman’s voice is sharp. “Quit scaring off my staff before they even start. And look at the state of this room. Now, I’ll need to find new bedding and everything before she moves in. Come on Tina, I’ll show you where the linens are kept.”

The voices—all of them, thankfully—move away, but I remain frozen behind the bathroom door, hardly daring to breathe. The sounds fade down the hallway, and I hear the door close with a soft click. My legs are shaking so badly I have to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing.

I wait another few minutes, straining my ears for any sign of their return, before I cautiously peek out from behind the bathroom door. The room is a disaster. The mattress is askew, drawers hang open, and the spare bedding that was kept in the wardrobe is strewn across the floor.

What the hell do I do now? Will the women be back to straighten the room? They’ll know who I am since Eduardo described me. I doubt there’s another redhead in this place.

I’m still standing in the bathroom door, dithering, not knowing what to do, when I hear voices again. At least one of them is familiar, this time.

“What’s going on down here?” Dominic asks, an edge to his voice.

I can’t hear the response, it’s too soft, so I’m guessing he’s talking to the women. I still duck out of sight, just in case, but I’m proved right when I hear him say, “Give Tina this room instead, so she can get settled, and I’ll check out the breakages in the other one and alter the paperwork on her file.”

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