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My father looked skeptical, but he sighed and said, "I would be very disappointed if all you are saying about were true James. But I will conduct an investigation. I still don't know anything for sure, but I will keep an eye on him. Don't be worried. If he threatens you again, make sure to call me."
I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that my father was taking my situation seriously. But then I decided to take the plunge and bring up Anthony.
"Dad," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm dating Anthony, and it's serious."
My father raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "My dear, Anthony met me yesterday and spoke about this. I chose to think that this ‘thing’ both of you have is just a fling."
I felt my cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. My father was making it sound like my relationship with Anthony was a joke.
But I wasn't going to back down. "I swear, Dad, this is for real," I said firmly. "Anthony decided to come to meet you yesterday because of me. And he didn't run when James told him to leave me or else. He is real, and I’m happy with him."
My father looked at me for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. "Are you sure that is what he feels for you, too?" he finally asked.
I nodded. "Yes."
"Very well," my father said, picking up his phone. He made a quick call, and two hefty men entered the room.
"Go with them, Laura," my father said, gesturing towards the men. "They will take you to the house. I'm putting you on house arrest."
"What? Why?" I asked, feeling bewildered.
"I don't have time for an explanation right now," my father said firmly. "Just go with them. We'll talk later."
As they escorted me away from my father's office, my mind was racing with questions. What could I have possibly done to warrant being put on house arrest? Was it because of Anthony? Did my father disapprove of our relationship? I felt a knot form in my stomach as I tried to piece together the events that had just unfolded.
As we walked past the garage, I caught sight of Anthony working on a car. He looked up and saw me being escorted by the two men, his expression turning from confusion to concern. I could see him taking a step forward as if he wanted to come to my aid, but he stopped short when he saw my father following behind us. I felt a pang of sadness, knowing that he couldn't do anything to help me.
While they drove me to my apartment to pick up a few things, I tried to make sense of the situation in my head. But my thoughts were suddenly interrupted when one of the men cleared his throat. I looked up to see that he had been watching me the entire time, a slight smirk on his face. I bristled at his gaze and looked away, feeling the anger and frustration build up inside of me.
As we continued driving, I noticed that the young man driving the car kept stealing glances at me through the rearview mirror. He looked like he was barely out of high school, his face still bearing traces of youth and innocence. I felt a twinge of sympathy for him, knowing that he was now caught up in whatever illicit business my father was involved in.
Then, out of nowhere, he asked me if I was okay. I scoffed at his concern, suddenly feeling very bitter.
"Why the fuck are you working here anyways?" I snapped at him. "I'm certain you're on the path of destruction right now, little boy." I rolled my eyes, feeling a slight sense of satisfaction at seeing the hurt look on his face.
Jesus.Now there’s just one more person who wants to kill me. I didn't mean to hurt him. I rubbed my temple as I sat back in the car. Well, there was nothing I could do about it now unless he decided to come back to the house later in the day.
I felt a sense of dread coming on. I knew that being locked up inside my father’s house would drive me insane, but I had no choice in the matter. I tried calling my father, but he didn't answer. I cursed under my breath, feeling the reality of the situation settle heavily on my shoulders.
As soon as I stepped into my old bedroom, I could feel the exhaustion catching up with me. The stress of being on house arrest was already taking its toll on me, and it had just started. I immediately headed for the bathroom, turning on the hot water and adding some bubble bath to the tub. I couldn't wait to sink into the warm water and relax.
But before I could even step into the tub, I heard the sound of my phone buzzing on the nearby vanity. I sighed, knowing that it was probably Anthony, worried sick about me. I picked up my phone and saw his multiple texts and felt terribly guilty for making him worry.
After texting him back and reassuring him that everything was okay, I finally allowed myself to unwind in the bath. The warm water felt like a hug, and the sweet scent of the bubble bath filled my senses. In spite of the stressful circumstances, I actually couldn't remember the last time I had felt this relaxed.
After a few minutes, I reluctantly got out of the tub and dried off, wrapping myself in a fluffy white robe. I could feel my eyelids getting heavy as I lay down on my bed, and I drifted off to sleep, the sound of my phone still buzzing every once in a while.
When I woke up, it was late afternoon already. I realized that I must have slept for a few hours. I got up, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. I headed downstairs, hoping to find someone to talk to.
But it felt strangely empty as I made my way through the house. All the staff had gone home, and it seemed like I was the only one left in the house. As I pushed open the door to the garden, I felt a thud and realized that I had hit someone.
I peered around the door and saw the young man who had driven me earlier, looking just as surprised as I was. He was still wearing a black suit, as if he had just finished work.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said as I recognized him.
"It's fine," he replied, looking a bit embarrassed.
"Why are you here so late?" I asked.
