Penthouse
Mhmm!
Alisha stirred in her sleep, moaning in pain as she struggled to open her droopy eyes.
Her gaze wandered around the dimly lit room, the soft light filtering through the curtains casting shadows.
She tried to orient herself, her mind flooded with memories of what had transpired in the washroom.
Searching for any sign of Alice, she realised that the place didn't resemble his home at all, confirming her worst fears about where he had taken her.
More frightening than the unfamiliar surroundings was the knowledge that Alice would soon return to her side.
"You're awake, sweetheart. How are you feeling? You've been asleep for a whole day now; it's the next evening," Alice entered the room, flicking on the lights.
The sudden brightness caused Alisha to instinctively shut her eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity.
Approaching her with a tray of food, Alice hesitated, not wanting to disturb her slumber but unable to resist the urge to tend to her needs.
Yesterday, he had brought her to this place in a state of distress, bathing her and cleaning up the mess he had inadvertently caused.
Now, as he contemplated preparing her a meal, he realised she was already awake, alleviating any guilt he felt about rousing her.
"Here, drink some water, Angel. You look dehydrated," Alice offered, extending a glass towards Alisha.
Opening her eyes cautiously, Alisha accepted the glass of water, sipping it slowly to ease the burning sensation in her throat.
Her lips were still swollen, and despite Alice's efforts to bandage her injuries, the pain lingered, a constant reminder of the ordeal she had endured.
"How are you feeling?" Alice asked again, noting how pale and weak Alisha appeared.
He knew he was the reason for everything, but she had given him reasons to act this way, so he couldn't bring himself to apologise or acknowledge his mistakes.
Alisha removed the glass from her lips and looked at him, giving him a sceptical look as if questioning how seriously he could ask such a thing, how oblivious anyone would have to be to ask something so obvious.
It felt dumb to her. She wasn't well, and she certainly didn't look well either. He wasn't blind; he could see how she was feeling, so why bother asking?
"I asked you something, Angel. Are you not planning to reply?" Alice sat on the bed, placing a tray filled with fruits, pancakes, and pasta on the bed.
"I have a headache and I'm in pain," Alisha replied, noticing that this time his tone was less about asking and more like a warning.
"That's bad, but it will be fine. Eat your food first, then you can take some painkillers," Alice spoke calmly as he took the glass of water from Alisha's hands and placed it on the tray.
Alisha glanced at the food, noticing that it was mostly her favourite except for the fruits.
But could she say that to him?
The memory of him making her walk on glass due to the juice was still fresh in her mind, and she couldn't bring herself to face him and speak up.
"Are you just going to look at the food? It's still fresh. Eat it, sweetheart, or I can feed you," Alice suggested gently.
"Where am I?" Alisha asked, her voice hoarse from not speaking for a whole day, the events from before still taking a toll on her throat.
"You're in my penthouse. I thought it would be more comfortable to bring you here because it's close to the café we were in," Alice answered, his tone gentle as he held the spoon and twirled the pasta onto it.
He had lied about bringing her here because of its closeness to the café.
But the truth was different. He had brought her here because he knew his mother would be angry upon finding Alisha again.
And then Mary could come to his house and take Alisha away.
He didn't want that to happen, but he knew his mother could intervene and prevent him from keeping Alisha with him. It felt stifling, so he decided to bring her here, alone, without maids or any disturbance, hoping that he and Alisha could spend time together.
"Here, eat," Alice gently placed the pasta in front of Alisha's lips, careful not to hurt her swollen ones. "I made it. I hope you like it. You should eat now; it's been a whole day since you've had anything in your stomach."
Alisha glanced at the pasta in front of her lips, then at Alice's face. She couldn't believe he was the same man who had done those disgusting things to her in the washroom. And now he was acting like nothing had happened.
The question looming over her was why she was in his penthouse, and it didn't feel comfortable at all.
"Eat, Angel," Alice firmly commanded, his gaze fixed on her, but she showed no indication of complying.
He couldn't let her go hungry; she already looked like a ghost. It wouldn't do any good for her health if she remained hungry for longer.
‘Wow, so much tension. What happened to this care when you fucked her mouth like a beast?’ the voice in his head taunted, giving him a reality check that couldn't be hidden.
Who knew him better than he knew himself?
Ignoring the intrusive thoughts, Alice's expression hardened as he focused on the present moment. He couldn't afford to dwell on past actions; he needed to ensure Alisha's well-being now.
"Please, Alisha, you need to eat," he urged softly, his voice tinged with concern as he gently guided the spoon towards her lips once more.
Alisha remained silent, her eyes downcast as she hesitated.
Finally, after a moment of hesitation, Alisha reluctantly opened her mouth, allowing Alice to feed her a small bite of pasta.
As she chewed slowly, Alice couldn't help but smile.
"How is it? Does it taste good? Is it to your liking?" Alice showered her with questions, his tone gentle and caring as he watched her eat the pasta. She looked so cute, he wanted to pinch her cheek, but he refrained knowing it was already hurt and bandaged.
Amidst everything, he regretted only one thing – slamming her into the wall, surely causing more injury than anything else.
"It tastes good," Alisha replied softly, a hint of warmth in her voice as she acknowledged his efforts.
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