Dolores felt a wave of dizziness, realizing she was lying in a moving car as she sensed the bumps along the road.
Gradually, she opened her eyes, her vision transitioning from blurry to clear. Looking around, she took in her current situation.
She found herself in a seven-seat MPV with the backseat folded down, creating a spacious compartment. The backseat resembled a large bed upon which she lay. The windows were covered in black auto foil, making it difficult to determine if it was dark or bright outside. Nevertheless, she surmised it was daytime since she didn’t see any shimmering lights.
As she attempted to move, a sharp migraine struck, and she discovered her hands were completely immobilized. Lowering her head, she realized all her limbs were tightly bound.
Sampson, who was driving, noticed her awakening through the rearview mirror. “You’re awake. Are you hungry now?”
Recalling recent events, Dolores refused to speak to him and closed her eyes once more.
“Do you hate me?” Sampson could discern her expression clearly in the rearview mirror.
She wanted nothing to do with him, did she?
“Lola, we’re in love. Sooner or later, we’ll be intimate. Why must you do this? I pity you if you get hurt.” While he genuinely felt sorry for her, his desire to win her heart surpassed any remorse.
“Are you hungry?” Sampson asked again.
No matter what Sampson said, Dolores feigned deafness, refusing to respond. She couldn’t stand this man at the moment, fully aware of his malevolence.
Recognizing her profound anger towards him, Sampson ceased his attempts to communicate. He said, “Let me know if you get hungry.”
Then he fell silent, focusing on driving.
Dolores was plagued by a severe migraine. She wondered about the condition of the road they traveled on-it was rough and bumpy. Each jolt intensified the pain from the wound on her head. Nevertheless, she remained stoic, enduring the suffering in silence.
To alleviate her agony, Dolores forced her mind to empty itself. If she could fall asleep, she wouldn’t feel the pain anymore.
As the sun began to set, darkness enveloped the surroundings.
When she next awoke, she couldn’t discern the time. She was no longer in the car; instead, she found herself in a small hotel room sparsely furnished. It seemed like a private inn that didn’t require identification for check-in. Dolores observed that it had been converted from a residential apartment, with the room divided into separate living spaces.
A sardonic smile formed on her pale lips.
She had to admit that Sampson had gone to great lengths-enduring such a shabby place to avoid being discovered.
He came from the wealthy and noble Herbert family. He should never have experienced such suffering before.
Dolores’s throat was parched, longing for a drink of water. However, her limbs remained bound. Sampson wasn’t in the room, presumably afraid she might attempt an escape if untied.
With a click, the room door swung open. Sampson entered, carrying a few items in his hands.
Noticing her awake, he inquired, “You’re awake. You must be hungry, aren’t you?”
As he spoke, he closed and locked the door from the inside, his concern evident in ensuring the lock was secure. He then placed the items on the table.
“I’m thirsty,” she croaked, her voice extremely hoarse.
She couldn’t recall the last time she had spoken or had a drink of water. At this moment, she was tormented by an insatiable thirst.
Sampson untied her hands, leavingDolores with dark red marks on her slender, fair wrists. He gently stroked them and asked, “Does it hurt?”
Dolores didn’t respond. He was being hypocritical. How could he claim to feel sorry for her while treating her this way?
Sampson proceeded to untie her feet and helped her sit up. “I’ll get you some water.”
Dolores flexed her sore wrists, and Sampson took out a bottle of water. As he was about to open the lid, she spoke up, “I’ll do it myself.”
Sampson inquired, “Don’t your wrists hurt?”
“No. You bought dinner, didn’t you? You must be hungry too. You can eat first.”
Sampson studied her for a few moments before handing her the unopened bottle of mineral water. Dolores accepted it cautiously, carefully examining the lid to ensure it hadn’t been tampered with. She was now filled with fear towards Sampson, dreading that he might drug her again.
Hence, she proceeded with great caution.
Sampson took a few bites of the food he had bought outside and then offered the remaining portion to Dolores. “Have some,” he said.
Dolores was indeed hungry, but she hesitated to take the food, fixating her gaze upon it.
Sampson assumed it was because she didn’t like the food. He explained, “This is a remote town with limited dining options and poor conditions. Just bear with it for one more day. I’ll find a better restaurant where you can have a satisfying meal and get some rest.”
Dolores remained silent. She eventually took the food and ate a few bites to satiate her hunger. It wasn’t because the food wasn’t appetizing. In her past, during her impoverished life with her mother, she had consumed far worse meals and encountered numerous hardships.
But now, she simply couldn’t bring herself to eat too much, knowing it was provided by Sampson.
He had already cast a shadow over her-she constantly suspected that he intended to harm her.
She feared that he might have tampered with the food, perhaps by adding a drug.
“Finished? Go lie down. I’ll apply some medicine to your wounds.”
Dolores set aside the takeout box and took a sip of water. “I need to use the bathroom.”
She only stood up when Sampson agreed. However, as she rose, she realized her legs were numb, experiencing soreness and pain in her ankles.
Bending over, she rubbed her numbed legs. Sampson instinctively reached out, intending to help massage them. Dolores, afraid of his touch, instinctively stepped back. In doing so, her legs bumped against the edge of the bed, causing her to sit back down. She quickly declined his assistance. “No, thanks. They’re no longer numb.”
After those words, she dragged her legs, which had regained some sensation, towards the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door, letting out a sigh of relief. However, her intention wasn’t to use the toilet; she simply wanted to prevent Sampson from applying medicine to her wounds. She had a hunch that he would tie her up again afterward. Being bound in all fours was extremely uncomfortable.
She rested while seated on the toilet, massaging the numbness in her legs from being restrained for an extended period.
Once she had recovered from the exhaustion, she stood up and pressed the button to flush the toilet, allowing Sampson to hear the sound, making him believe she had used it. She washed her hands with tap water, opened the door, and stepped out.
Sampson had his head lowered, engrossed in his cellphone. Dolores glanced at him casually, searching for a possible escape route. Upon hearing her movement, he locked his phone screen and looked up at her. “Lie down.”
Dolores sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at him timidly.
“I won’t lay a finger on you until you’ve fully recovered,” Sampson assured, understanding her concerns.
A chill ran through Dolores’s heart. She wondered if he would treat her the same way as before once she had regained her strength.
Trembling all over, her only desire was to escape as soon as possible.
She slowly reclined. Sampson removed the gauze from her head, revealing a small wound on her forehead that had been treated at the hospital. Despite losing a lotof blood, the doctor had assured her that her life was not in danger.
As Sampson applied the medicine, Dolores gritted her teeth, suppressing any sound of discomfort. The beads of sweat on her forehead were evidence of the pain she endured.
“If it hurts a lot, cry out,” he suggested.
“No, it’s fine,” Dolores replied, closing her eyes.
After a few minutes, Sampson finished applying the medicine. “I’ll be driving during the day, so I need a good rest at night…”
“Go ahead and tie me up,” Dolores understood his implication.
Sampson leaned over and began tying her feet, assuring her, “I’ll secure them loosely. It’ll be more comfortable that way.”
But could she ever truly feel comfortable when restrained?
Dolores closed her eyes, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over her. She allowed him to tie her hands as well, determined to seize an opportunity to escape when he was less vigilant.
“Knock. Knock-”
Suddenly, sharp knocks reverberated through the door.
Sampson’s expression changed dramatically as he turned his gaze towards the door.
The knocking persisted, accompanied by a man’s urgent voice, “Open the door! Hurry!”