Chapter 5 Fractured Reality

"I... I was just doing as you said," I stammered, taking a step again. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me," he spat, advancing on me. "You were about to tug a few silly stunts, weren't you? You were going to embarrass me on live TV!"

"No, I-" I started, but the words were lessened by the usage of the sharp sting of his hand across my face. The strain of it knocked me to the side, and I stumbled, catching myself on the arm of the couch.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty house. "Do you know how this makes me appear? I picked you up from the streets and gave you a life, and that is how you repay me."

"Anthony, please," I begged, my voice trembling. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up!" He roared, grabbing my arm and yanking me in the direction of him. "You're nobody without me; do you understand that? Nothing!"

I tried to pull away, but his grip modified like iron. "You're hurting me," I cried, tears streaming down my face.

"You think you can ruin my image, smash everything I've worked for?" he messed up, his eyes wild. "I'll show you what it takes by crossing the line."

He shoved me to the floor, and I cried out as my knees hit the hard tiles. He loomed over me, his face twisted in rage. "You ungrateful little-" His hand swung out over again, hitting me across the face with such pressure that I noticed stars.

"Stop, please, stop," I sobbed, looking to move slowly away, but he grabbed my hair, dragging me again inside the course of him.

"You think you could certainly do something you need?" he hissed, throwing me onto the couch. "You think you can make an idiot out of me?"

"Anthony, please," I gasped, trying to defend myself as he raised his hand once more. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

He didn't pay attention to me. He has become out of his vicinity in his very personal rage, his face contorted with hatred. He grabbed a chair, raising it above his head, and for a second, I had the idea he was going to smash it down on me. I attempted to scramble away, but he was too fast. The chair came down on my back, and pain exploded in my body.

I cried out, the air dashing from my lungs as I crumpled to the floor. My imagination and prescient blurred, the room spinning around me. I barely hear him shouting; however, the terms had been only a blur of sound, his voice echoing within the corners of my mind.

Then, everything went black.

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I opened my eyes to a dimly lit room, the faint fragrance of antiseptic filling the air. My body ached with each small motion, and a stupid throbbing pain settled behind my head. I looked around, looking to get a feel of my environment. It was a sterile environment, like a health facility room; however, something about it felt off. It wasn't a place I'd ever seen before.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a tall man in a healthy suit walked in. His demeanor was calm and composed, his eyes sharp as they took me in. "You're awake," he stated in a low voice. "I'm Noah King, Anthony's business accomplice and... pal."

"Where am I?" I croaked out, my voice raspy from disuse. I swallowed hard, seeking to clear my throat. "Why am I here?"

He took a seat with the aid of the mattress, his eyes reading me cautiously. "You've been through pretty much an ordeal," he said softly. "Anthony thought it would be nice for you to be somewhere safer. For your protection."

"My protection?" I echoed, my heart pounding in my chest. "Noah, please, I want to go home. Take me home." I swung my legs over the face of the bed, looking to rise; however, my legs had been wobbly, and I nearly collapsed.

Noah reached out, setting an organization, but with a mild hand on my shoulder. "Mia, you need to rest. You're not strong enough to go anywhere now. Anthony left strict instructions that you won't leave here until he returns."

"Where is he?" I demanded a pointy edge of panic in my voice. "Where's Anthony?"

Noah hesitated, his eyes flicking away for a quick moment. "He's... out. He'll be back soon," he said. "You need to relax. You're safe here. I'll have the doctor come test on you presently, since you're conscious."

"Noah, please," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "Tell me the truth. What's happening? Why won't you let me go?"

He sighed, a flicker of something like pity passing over his functions. "Just relax, Mia," he stated, avoiding my questions. "Everything will be clear once you're feeling better." With that, he stood up and walked out, leaving me alone in the bloodless, sterile room.

I waited until the door clicked shut at the back of him before I let out a shaky breath. My mind was racing, trying to make sense of what was happening. I felt like a prisoner, trapped in this unknown location with no way out.

Later that night, the medical doctor came in to test me, a stern-searching guy who barely spoke a word. He examined me with medical detachment, his eyes in no way meeting mine. After he left, a younger woman introduced me to meals, her eyes downcast as she located the tray on the bedside desk. Neither of them would answer my questions about where I was or what was occurring.

As the hours dragged on, the silence of the room became unbearable. I needed to get out to look at what's going on around me. I slipped out of bed, my legs nonetheless shaky but protecting my weight this time. I crept to the door, avoiding any noise. It opened with a gentle click, and I stepped out into a dimly lit hallway.

I walked cautiously, the sterile white walls giving way to a darker, more ominous environment. It felt like a maze, with corridors twisting and turning without a clear path. As I wandered, a faint, red glow stuck my eye from a room at the end of the corridor.

Curiosity and dread pushed me ahead. I approached the door, which turned slightly ajar, and peered internally. The sight that met my eyes made my stomach drop.

Anthony was there, his back to me, but I could see certainly enough of what he was doing. He was with a lady, her face twisted in pleasure. My heart sank as I diagnosed her-Isabella Wilson, one of his subordinates. Their movements were frantic, each of them moaning; instantly I felt a sickening twist in my intestine.