The Slave of Pleasure
Chapter 61

Vincenzo

I was lying still, feeling the weight of my body sink into the mattress. Everything around me seemed hazy, as if I were somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Something was different. I had never dreamed, not with such clarity. But this time, it was as if I was completely aware of every detail. I heard whispers, fragments of voices floating in the darkness of my mind.

Rachel... It was her voice. I could recognize its sweet and yet firm tone, even though the sound was muffled. I also heard the butler, always formal, always present. However, there was a third voice that caught my attention, one that made me wonder: What is Doctor Afonse doing here?

My memories were confused, in pieces, but I was putting the fragments together little by little. The last time I remembered seeing Doctor Afonse was... in the limousine? No, I was leaving the hospital, and then... a lapse. A blank. My mind had failed me for a moment, but now everything was coming back with clarity. He had come to take care of me because of that episode of forgetfulness, I concluded to myself, feeling a strange tranquility as I realized that my memories were returning. That brief lapse of forgetfulness, which had previously seemed like a serious flaw, now seemed like a mere passing shadow, something that no longer bothered me.

I remained there, lying down, my eyes still closed, while the darkness of my mind gave way to a silent calm. Time seemed to stretch out, and I was about to plunge back into unconsciousness when something broke the silence. It was the feeling that I was being watched. Not by one, but by two people. One of them was clearly Rachel. I could recognize her presence, even without seeing her. I had always felt her like that, like a constant around me. But there was someone else. A woman. A figure that hovered at the edge of my senses, a presence unknown and at the same time... familiar.

I took a deep breath, trying to grasp that fleeting memory. And then, the smell came. A soft, fresh scent that brought a hazy image to my mind: a woman touching her forehead to mine. I felt her touch, almost as if it were happening at that moment. Was it real or was it just another fragment of that confused state between sleep and wakefulness?

Time within this strange dream seemed to make no sense. Between one flash of memory and another, I heard laughter. Loud, outrageous laughter, of someone having fun. Who could be laughing like that? The answer came along with the sound of something breaking. No, it wasn't a solitary sound; there were several, objects falling, perhaps furniture being dragged. The house was in chaos.

With all these sounds and confused memories, my mind finally began to clear. It was all there, in the depths of my consciousness, waiting to emerge. Like pieces of a puzzle, the cloudy information began to come together, forming a clearer image. And then, suddenly, I felt as if something was pulling my mind out of that dormant state. It was time to wake up.

My eyelids felt heavy as lead, but with a conscious effort, I managed to open them slowly. The soft light of the room hit me first, blinding my eyes for a brief moment. I blinked a few times, adjusting my vision to the environment around me. The feeling of heaviness and tiredness in my body began to give way to the familiarity of the room and the distant sound of the house that now seemed alive to me.

Finally awake, I knew that something had changed. It was time to replace out what had happened while I was away.

I sat up in bed with a slight dizziness still reverberating in my head. I looked around, trying to get my bearings in the room, as if expecting something to be out of place. The room was in perfect order, but there was something there that didn't fit my immediate understanding. That's when I noticed the armchair next to the bed, close enough that someone could have sat there for hours, watching me.

Rachel, I thought. It had to be her. I vaguely remembered her voice while I was on the threshold of consciousness. She must have been right next to me, worried, waiting for me to recover. A strange warmth warmed my chest, but I quickly pushed it away. There were other things to worry about.

I stood up slowly, testing the weight of my body. My ribs, which had felt cracked before, now only felt a slight discomfort, as if they were the remnants of a nearly healed injury. It was almost miraculous, considering the state I had been in. I took a deep breath, feeling a slight tension as my lungs expanded. A small price to pay for being on my feet again.

My eyes fell on the phone on the nightstand. I thought about calling the butler to update me on what had happened these past two days, but one detail made me hesitate. A faint, almost imperceptible draft passed through the room. I glanced at the door that would normally be closed, and saw that it was ajar. rta.

I put the phone aside, feeling a bad feeling. Something was wrong. I walked to the door, and the closer I got, the more I could hear the muffled whispers coming from downstairs. They were nervous, tense voices, with an underlying note of panic. I opened the door fully, letting the sound flow more clearly. I could hear the employees talking excitedly, as if they were discussing something serious. Their tones were thick with anxiety.

I walked down the stairs in silence, without anyone noticing my presence. The room was filled with an uneasy energy. All the employees seemed to be focused on their conversation, and despite trying to keep their voices low, I managed to catch bits of their discussion. They were talking about Rachel. And the other woman. Her friend, perhaps? What had happened while I was sleeping?

I continued down the stairs, each step carefully calculated so as not to draw attention. The commotion among them was evident, and it only fueled my uneasiness. They were too distracted to notice my approach.

When I reached the last step, I stopped for a moment, taking in the scene. The employees were visibly disturbed, exchanging nervous glances. The tension was palpable. I took a deep breath, and with a firmness that surprised even me, I asked the only question that needed to be answered:

"WHAT HAPPENED HERE?"

My voice cut through the air like a thunderclap, and the silence that followed was immediate. All eyes turned to me, and the expression of shock and fear on their faces was clear. I wasn't sure what had happened, but one thing was certain: something very wrong was happening here.