The CEO’ s second choice novel Chapter 23

　　Elena

　　Ugh, the sun is too bright. Did I fall asleep next to the pool again? I slowly opened my eyes, trying to register where I was, but everything was too blurry. Gosh, did I get sunstroke or something? My throat felt absolutely parched and I could do with an ice-cold juice right about now. I try to sit up and blink back the blurriness, and thankfully it worked some.

　　And now I wish it didn’t; I was in a hospital room.

　　How did I get here? What happened? I got up from the bed, intending to walk towards the bathroom I had seen and fall forward onto the floor hard. “Ah, shoot,” I say, heavily disoriented and trying to get up from the floor, but my body would not reciprocate. I felt incredibly weak and dizzy from the fall. Tears prick the corners of my eyes at the uncertainty. Why couldn’t I remember anything? Why did my body feel so weird?

　　The door in front of me opens as I try to lift myself up again, “Elena!”

　　Was that… was that Sebastian? A pair of strong arms pull me up from the floor and I immediately smell his familiar Tom Ford scent. “Sebastian?!” I croak out with uncertainty and I look up into his eyes, those honey-coloured hazel eyes I was running away from. My bottom lip starts to tremble and I throw my arms around his neck, snuggling into his nape as he picks me up.

　　Oh my gosh, I missed him. I missed him so much.

　　As he lays me back onto the bed, he looks at me strangely and I could feel something was off. He had concern for me in his eyes, but beneath that was something else, something dark. “What day is it?” I ask him, confused at his appearance. He sits on the armchair next to the bed, “It is 7 pm on Sunday evening. Do you remember anything, Elena?” He asks me as he rests his elbows on his knees and stares up at me.

　　What? I had slept the whole day away?

　　I tried to think back, but everything was all fuzzy. Why could I not remember anything? “I left my room to go out and met the hotel concierge on the way. I asked him about my missing cell phone… that’s all I can remember. I…” What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I remember what happened? Tears ran down my cheeks for some unknown reason and I felt a shiver down my spine.

　　Then it hit me; Sebastian was in Tenerife. He found me after a week of vacation. I look at him and shame washes over me.

　　“Sebastian, I-”

　　“Not now, Elena. We can discuss it later. For now, I need to tell you what happened on Saturday evening.” He says and regards me with an expression I never thought would grace his face; betrayal?

　　“I arrived in Tenerife on Saturday afternoon and eventually found your hotel after searching, but you had left for the evening. I searched the area for a few minutes and eventually found out that you left a cocktail bar with an American man.” He says, and I noticed the anger that flashes in his eyes as his hands balled into fists. My eyes glanced down towards his hands and I noticed that they were bruised. This made me frown, and he saw that I was looking at his fists in confusion.

　　Wait, I left with someone? Why don’t I remember this?

　　He flexes his fingers again, “This was caused by me beating the American unconscious as I pulled him off you.”

　　My hands fly to my mouth and I shake my head, “No! No, I would never!” I exclaim, horrified at what he was explaining. I would never sleep with a random man from a bar—heck, I had been saving myself for marriage after all this time!

　　He nods sadly, “I know that, Elena. You were drugged at the cocktail bar. The American had paid the bartender to slip something into your shandy.”

　　As soon as he says this, I jump from the bed and blindly rush to the bathroom. I tried to empty my stomach contents, but nothing came out, so I painfully dry-heaved. Someone drugged me at the behest of a sexual predator who had done God knows what to me. I immediately feel Sebastian behind me, rubbing my back. I didn’t want him to see me like this, but at this moment, I truly did not care.

　　I fall back on the bathroom floor and feel Sebastian’s arms folding around me in a comforting embrace. Sobbing into his arms, I hold him tighter and let my emotions run freely. All the hurt, uncertainty, worry and anxiety all bubble to the surface as I hold onto him. “Shh. C’Est bon, petite Marguerite,”(It’s okay, little daisy). Sebastian consoles me while speaking in French and I find myself calming down a bit.

　　His voice truly was honey-drenched.