Lena's POV
I woke up in an empty room.
I remembered that I was supposed to call Sylvia the previous night to ask her about Mr. Black, but I had fallen asleep before I could do so.
I picked up my phone and dialed her number, waiting anxiously for her to answer. I needed the information she had.
Finally, she picked up.
"Hello, Miss Smith," Sylvia greeted.
"Hi," I replied. "I'm sorry for calling you this early."
"It's alright, ma. What can I help you with?" she asked promptly.
"Uhm… Sylvia, can you help me gather any information you can find on a man named Black Raymond?"
I remembered Doctor Damon calling him Raymond, and I asked cautiously, unsure how she would react.
"Alright, ma. I already have all the necessary information about him," Sylvia replied calmly.
"Why do you already have information about him?" I asked, surprised.
"Because I knew you would ask," she replied.
"Why would you think that?" I questioned.
Sylvia chuckled softly. "When I arrived at your family villa yesterday, I saw Mr. Black leaving with you. I thought maybe he was there to cause trouble because you went into his room that night.
"Before I could even get out of my car to explain that it wasn't your fault—that you were drugged—you both drove off. I was extremely worried. I kept calling your phone, but no one answered. I almost reported him to the police."
My heart skipped.
"Later that evening, I tried calling again, and Mr. Black picked up."
"What did he say?" I asked quickly.
"I started apologizing and pleading with him on your behalf," she continued. "I explained everything that happened."
"And?" I pressed.
"He said he already knew what was going on and that I shouldn't worry. He said you were in good hands and that he would not hurt you."
That was all?
"That's all he said? He didn't ask about me?" I asked, surprised by my own curiosity.
"Ma," Sylvia replied, "I think he already knows everything about you. Mr. Black is very efficient. There was no need for him to ask me."
I was stunned.
He knows everything about me, yet I know nothing about him.
"Thank you, Sylvia," I said quietly. "Please send me everything you have on Mr. Black. And also clear my schedule for the rest of the week. I won't be coming to work for the next four days."
"Alright, ma," she replied before ending the call.
I opened the email she sent and began reading.
Sylvia was extremely thorough.
When I finished, I couldn't believe what I had just read.
Can anyone really be this powerful?
I searched his name on the internet just to be sure she hadn't mixed him up with someone else. But the internet was even worse—exaggerating his wealth, influence, and handsomeness.
I had to stop reading fan pages before I lost my mind.
Some people even had nicknames for him.
How did I not know about him? Have I been living under a rock?
And I had accused him of taking money from my ex to sleep with me.
My mouth fell open.
The thought of someone that powerful taking care of me without hesitation scared me to my core.
"Lena," I whispered to myself. "He's too powerful for you."
I climbed out of bed and stood in front of the mirror, suddenly feeling insecure.
I studied my reflection, scanning every inch of my body.
"I don't even look as good as those Instagram models," I murmured. "What does he even see in me?"
I refused to be a kept woman. I refused to be a plaything.
If that was what he wanted, he could find those models online calling him Mr. Handsome for all I cared.
What is wrong with me? I'm losing my mind thinking about him.
I need to leave—before he comes back.
I turned around quickly and bumped straight into a hard chest.
Startled, I lifted my head.
Raymond's calm eyes were already fixed on me.
Before I could speak, he did.
"Where are you rushing to, kitten?"
That name again.
"I'm going home," I replied.
"I already told you—you're staying with me," he said calmly. "What part of that don't you understand?"
"You're not the boss of me," I snapped, trying to walk past him. "You can't tell me what to do."
He grabbed my hand, stopping me.
For the first time since I met him, I saw anger flicker across his face.
"Kitten," he said slowly, "I don't like repeating myself. You are my woman now. So yes, you'll stay with me."
"I am not your woman," I shot back. "Sleeping together once doesn't give you the right to control me.
"If I go out and sleep with another man, does that mean he gets to tell me what to do too?"
The moment the words left my mouth, Raymond stopped smiling.
He looked like he was holding himself back.
"If you don't want that man to remain alive," he said coldly, "you can try it. Like I said, you are mine. And no man would dare touch you once they know who you belong to."
He chuckled darkly.
Fear crept up my spine as I stepped backward. For every step I took, he followed, until my back hit the wall and there was nowhere else to go.
He caged me in with his arms and stared directly into my eyes.
"You are my woman now, kitten," he said quietly. "I'll only let you go if—and when—I decide."
He leaned down, held my face, and brushed his lips against mine.
Then he straightened.
"Come downstairs after you're done bathing," he said calmly. "I have a document I need you to look at."
I went into the bathroom to freshen up.
Later, I would think of a safer—more careful—way to leave Raymond without provoking his anger.