The Slave of Pleasure
Chapter 44

Rachel

The doctor was about to walk away when I impulsively shouted, "Doctor!" He was already walking down the steps leading to the mansion's exit. The sound of my call echoed through the entrance, and he stopped, slowly turning to look at me curiously.

I approached quickly, not knowing exactly how to formulate what was on my mind. He looked at me with that patient gaze of an experienced doctor and calmly asked, "Do you still have any questions about Vincenzo's condition?"

I hesitated for a second, trying to replace the right words. "More or less..." I replied, my voice coming out a little lower than expected. I took a deep breath and continued, trying to sound as professional as possible. "When Vincenzo wakes up... can I try to stimulate his memory so he remembers everything clearly?"

The doctor smiled, this time in an understanding way, as if he already knew what I was about to ask. "Yes, of course. Stimuli, whether they be conversations or memories, can help a lot in this recovery process." Although I felt a little more at ease, there was something else going on in my thoughts. I looked at the floor for a second, nervous, and then looked back at him. "And... can these stimuli be... physical too?"

I felt my cheeks heat up immediately after asking the question. I wasn't used to talking about this kind of thing with anyone, much less with a doctor who wasn't my own. But I needed to know. He noticed my embarrassment and, to my surprise, gave a soft laugh, not in mockery, but in understanding.

"Yes," he replied, his tone now more relaxed, yet professional. "Physical stimuli, especially the most intimate ones, are great memory inducers. This happens due to the release of dopamine, a neurotransmitter linked to pleasure and emotions. It helps to reinforce neuronal connections and can, indeed, facilitate the return of memories."

My eyes widened slightly. I hadn't expected him to be so direct, but at the same time, I was relieved by his clear and scientific explanation. However, before I could sink any deeper into thinking about what that meant, he continued. "But," he said, smiling with a hint of humor, "don't overdo the more intimate stimulation." He chuckled lightly, noticing my embarrassment. "Even after he wakes up, Vincenzo will still need to be monitored to make sure everything is back to normal. The last thing we want is to rush something that should happen naturally."

I nodded, silently grateful that he had eased the tension of the moment a little. Although the idea still made me nervous, it was a relief to know that there was a way to help Vincenzo, even if it was something so... intimate. "Thank you, Doctor," I murmured, unsure if I was more grateful for the answer or the relief his laughter brought me.

"You're welcome, Rachel," he replied gently. "Just take good care of him, and remember, patience is also an important part of the process." He gave me one last wave and then turned back to walk down the steps, leaving for good. As I watched him walk away, a new weight of responsibility fell upon me, but this time mixed with a glimmer of hope.

As I closed the door behind me, I let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of all the tension and uncertainty slowly dissipate. I turned and saw the butler already standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for me to accompany him back to Vincenzo's room. He said nothing, just gave me a discreet wave. We walked in silence through the halls of the mansion, our soft footsteps echoing on the marble floor.

When we reached Vincenzo's room, the butler entered first, heading straight for the glass of water and the cups of tea that were still on the table. I walked over to the bed, my eyes fixed on Vincenzo as he slept peacefully. The peaceful expression on his face was in complete contrast to all the confusion and chaos we had faced that day.

I stood next to him and watched him for a few moments, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. A small smile appeared on my lips, and before I knew it, a tear rolled down my face. Vincenzo looked so calm, but at the same time, so strong. It was difficult to reconcile the two images of him: the imposing man who always faced everything with his head held high and now, so fragile, recovering.

The butler, always attentive, noticed my gaze and approached silently. Without saying a word, he took an armchair that was a little away and gently brought it close to the bed. I thanked him with a nod, feeling immense gratitude for his constant presence and unwavering support. He didn't need to speak for me to know that he was there, attentive to everything.

Before sitting in the armchair, I took the folded blanket next to Vincenzo and carefully arranged it over his body. I wanted to make sure he was comfortable, that he was being taken care of. The simple act of covering him brought me a strange comfort, as if I was doing my part to ensure that he was okay.

The butler, always discreet, collected the tray with the cups and glass. Before leaving, he stopped at the door and said softly, "I am at your command, madam." His voice was calm, but full of respect. It touched me in a way I hadn't expected. "Thank you," I replied, my voice thick with emotion. He nodded in response, saying only, "Madam..." before disappearing through the door, leaving me alone with Vincenzo.

I turned my eyes to him again, still asleep, and I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. But this time, they weren't of sadness. They were of relief, of hope. I sat in the chair next to him and watched his soft features as he slept. I felt my eyes begin to feel heavy, and before I knew it, exhaustion overcame me. I let myself fall asleep there, next to him, with my heart full of hope that, soon, everything would return to normal.