CHAPTER THREE

..."In the Washroom"...

Seeing her still shivering and cold, I instructed her to take a hot bath. Assisting her, I guided her towards the washroom. She appeared incredibly weak. I turned the knob of the shower, allowing warm water to flow.

She stepped into the shower, and I stood by, ensuring she was safe and comfortable. The lukewarm water cascaded over her, providing some much-needed warmth and comfort. I observed her for a moment, my mind filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Who was she, and what had led her to this point?

Leaving her to bathe, I decided to give her some privacy, closing the door partially while keeping a watchful eye outside. My thoughts were consumed by the enigma that stood before me. What was her story? What secrets did she hold? And how would they intertwine with my own complicated existence?

As the sound of the water echoed through the bathroom, I couldn't help but wonder how this encounter would alter the course of our lives.

I turned to look at her, only to find her gazing silently back at me. She tightly clutched her blanket, and in that moment, I felt a pang of embarrassment wash over me. Hastily, I averted my gaze and swiftly exited the washroom. What would she think of me? But then again, why should I care? She was just a stranger, someone who "MAY BE" leaving soon anyway.

I waited anxiously inside the room, minutes passing by. Suddenly, I heard her voice from the washroom, requesting something to wear. Anticipating her needs, I had already prepared some clothes for her, ensuring that I would not embarrass her further.

She emerged from the washroom, clad in the clothes I had provided, and bestowed upon me a smile. That smile, so memorable and captivating, seemed to touch my very soul.

What was happening to me? Why was I becoming attracted to a complete stranger? My crew would undoubtedly mock me if they discovered that I had offered shelter to a woman.

But did I care? The answer was no. I never lived by anyone else's rules. The rules were made by me, and the world operated according to my commands.

"Sir, will you help me leave this country?" she asked once again, her voice soft and endearing.

Her question lingered in the air, stirring a whirlwind of thoughts within me. What would be the consequences of aiding her? What would it mean for both of us? As I gazed into her eyes, contemplating the path ahead, I couldn't deny the growing connection between us. There was something about her, something that called to me, urging me to break free from the confines of my own carefully constructed world.

I reached for one of my cigarettes and lit it, inhaling deeply and exhaling a plume of smoke. Taking on a dominant expression, the kind that could instill fear in anyone, I sat on the couch. With a quick glance in her direction, a smirk spread across my face.

She fell silent once again, her gaze cast downwards, waiting for a response to her question. But did she provide me with the answers I sought? Why should I reveal my intentions to help her or not?

She timidly approached me, taking small, hesitant steps, and asked once more in her frail, trembling voice, "Please, will you help me?"

How adorable. She resembled a little rabbit cautiously approaching a formidable predator. But in my world, nothing comes for free. Everyone must pay the price.

"What will I gain in return?" I questioned, my voice cold and commanding, as I blew smoke into the air. Confusion flashed across her face at my statement. I smirked, my eyes gleaming with a devilish intensity.

"Do you believe you can leave without fulfilling your end of the bargain, Snowflake?" I clarified, my words bold and unapologetic. However, her innocent mind seemed to struggle to comprehend my true meaning.

"I don't have money to repay you," she replied, her words revealing her understanding. But baby Snow, money is not what I'm after. Money means nothing when I have the opportunity to possess beauty like yours.

I chuckled darkly at her choice of words, then settled back on the couch, taking another drag of my cigarette, holding it delicately between my middle and index finger.

"Do you think I believe you're incapable of earning money, baby snow?" I questioned, my eyes fixed on her. She looked at me, a frown forming on her forehead as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I took pleasure in seeing her perplexed expression, but it was time to clear things up.

"First, let's start with a proper introduction, little snow," I demanded, my voice firm and commanding.

"I've told me your name," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of defiance. How naive she was to think that I was merely interested in her name. I wanted more than that—I wanted her entire history. I wanted to know why she wanted to leave, the circumstances that had brought her to her current situation. Honesty was paramount, for in my world, those who lied deserved only one punishment: death.

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