The Slave of Pleasure
Chapter 62

Vincenzo

As I stared at the servants, my eyes wandered over the wreckage scattered across the floor. Plates, vases, and wooden furniture were broken, paintings were toppled and shattered. It was as if a storm had passed through the mansion, leaving a trail of chaos and destruction. The silence that followed my question was crushing, each second prolonging the tension in the air. No one dared to move a muscle or say a word.

Then the butler stepped forward, breaking the heavy silence. My attention was immediately drawn to him. He looked nervous, but he maintained his composure, as if he were preparing for a confession.

"Mr. Vincenzo... it's good to see you're okay. We were all worried about you," he said, his voice full of caution.

I didn't answer. I just narrowed my eyes, not taking my eyes off him. He was hesitant, which only increased my distrust. My patience, already limited, was beginning to wear thin.

The butler took a deep breath and continued:

"Sir... this is all my fault!"

My brows furrowed. What did he mean by that? I looked around once more, trying to understand what exactly had happened during my absence.

He continued, looking increasingly anxious:

"Miss Rachel came back from shopping late last night with a new friend. I poured the wine as they asked and..."

Before he could finish, I held up my hand, silencing him with a gesture. I had heard enough. My mind began to put the pieces together-Rachel had come back with a friend, wine was involved, and now the house was in chaos. But my biggest concern at that moment was Rachel. Where was she? How was she?

"Where is Rachel?" I asked, my voice coming out darker than I intended.

As if in sync, all the servants pointed in the same direction: her room.

"They're asleep, sir," the butler finally replied, in a tone that seemed to suggest he knew that wouldn't be enough to calm me down. My attention turned to the hallway that led to Rachel's room. Something inside me was stirring, a mix of frustration, worry, and pent-up anger. It wasn't just about the state I'd found the house in, but about the fact that Rachel was involved in all of this. Something told me there was more to the story than the butler was willing to reveal at the moment. Without another word, I started back up the stairs. But this time, my steps were quick and purposeful, hitting the wooden steps hard, echoing through the silent mansion. The tension in my shoulders seemed to increase with each step, and I knew I needed answers. I needed to see for myself that Rachel was okay, even if my mind was full of questions. Every time my feet found a step, the anxiety grew. Why had she been drinking so much? Who was this friend she was with? And why was the house in ruins?

As I approached the door to her room, my chest felt tight. I didn't know what to expect when I opened it, but somehow I already knew I wouldn't like what I would replace.

With my hand firmly on the doorknob, I felt that the door wasn't completely closed. However, when I tried to push it open, something was blocking the way. I put a little more force and, little by little, the door began to give way, creaking as I pushed the obstacle. I soon realized it was an overturned chair and, judging by the state of the room, more furniture and objects were thrown everywhere. It was as if a hurricane had passed through there.

The mess was so big that I could barely tell what was broken and what was still intact. And, in the center of the bed, there was Rachel. Her hair was completely disheveled, spread chaotically across the pillow, and she was sprawled out haphazardly, fast asleep with a light line of drool running down the corner of her mouth. Beside her, something that made me raise my eyebrows in surprise: the private nurse.

"Of course... who else could it be?", I muttered to myself, almost incredulous, but at the same time, something told me that it made perfect sense. The nurse was in the strangest position I had ever seen. Upside down on the bed, her back resting against the headboard and her head hanging oddly towards the mattress, as if she had tried to do a somersault and fallen asleep in the middle of the movement.

It was a ridiculous scene, and as much as I tried to maintain my usual seriousness, the sight of the nurse in that absurd position made me involuntarily want to laugh. I struggled to keep control, swallowing the laughter that tried to escape, while the chaos around me seemed so far from what normally happened in my house.

I took a deep breath, straightened my posture and, with a firm voice, declared:

"I sleep for two days and the house is upside down...".

I had barely finished my sentence when Rachel was instantly awake, her eyes wide and blinking in confusion. She looked around, looking disoriented as her mind, probably still dazed from sleep, tried to process everything around her. The nurse, on the other hand, didn't seem so easy to wake up. I wondered if she had been drinking as much as Rachel, but at that moment that wasn't what mattered most.

Rachel shifted in bed, trying to compose herself, but the situation was so absurd that I almost found myself laughing again. Still, I kept myself in check, knowing that there were questions that needed answers. The state of the room, their situation, the destruction in the house... it all needed to be explained.

Rachel stared at me, her eyes still a little cloudy, and I could see the mix of surprise and embarrassment beginning to form on her face. I knew that what came next would be interesting, but one thing was certain: this was one of the most unusual scenes I had ever witnessed in my life.