Morning After

Elias POV

I lay motionless for long minutes, my body aching all over. I dragged myself to sit upright.

Every movement sent sharp pain lancing through my lower back and thighs. Limping into the bathroom, I turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray. Tears mingled with water as they poured down my face.

Humiliation hurt deeper than this scalding hot shower.

Pain throbbed in every muscle and bone of mine. The night replayed in cruel flashes: the initial thought of help to the endless violation.

After thirty minutes of crying in the bathroom, I came out and used a new towel. I dried off mechanically, avoiding my reflection on the side mirror.

I glanced at the sleeping stranger—hatred and anger warring in my chest. Seeing him sleeping peacefully made me want to kill him but I retrained myself.

I didn't want to destroy my father's reputation, I will deal with him when I finalize this business deal.

Gathering my scattered clothes, I pulled them on with shaking hands. The folder I had carried earlier lay nearby.

I snatched it up, unaware that a single sheet had slipped free and fluttered beneath the bed.

Limping heavily, I left the suite. The hallway blurred through tears. In the elevator, leaning against the wall as my mind replayed what just happened.

The elevator dinged at the ground floor and opened. Emily hurried forward. “What happened to you? You reek of sex.” She slipped an arm around my waist, supporting me as we moved toward the exit.

“Just… some complications,” I muttered, deflecting. “How did the negotiations go? Did you get a good price?”

She snorted. “No. Those fools kept insisting they were only ‘able’ to offer scraps. Obviously, thieves are looking for easy prey. I just saw those old bastard drunks' home, I refused the offer though.”

We stepped out into the cool night air and slid into Emily's waiting car at the hotel entrance. As the door closed, I stared out the window, my body still trembling from the ordeal.

One of my hands was gripping the edge of the folder so tightly that the corners bent beneath my fingers.

“Talk to me,” Emily said, glancing at me from the driver’s seat. “What happened in there?”

I didn’t answer immediately. How could I?

One moment, I had taken pity and stepped forward to help a stranger clearly in distress, barely able to stand. The next moment I was pleasuring him and being manhandled.

"I made a mistake,” I said finally." by helping a man"

Emily frowned. “Helping someone is a mistake now?”

“…Not helping him.” There was something in the way I said it flat, that made her stop asking for a second.

Then her eyes narrowed. “Did he hurt you?” Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I swear—”

“Drop it.” My words sounded solute to end the discussion.

She exhaled but didn’t argue further.

When we arrived at the apartment, I didn’t wait for help this time. Stepping out of the car on my own.

Each step I took hurt, but I refused to show it.

Inside, I moved straight past the kitchen into the bathroom.

The door shut with a trembling click.

The mirror never lies, I stared at my reflection, taking a deep breath at the marks on my body.

There were marks, all over my body. Faint but unmistakably visible.

My lips pressed into a thin line, as I clenched my hands.

Taking off my clothes, I step into the bathroom.

Turned on the tap, letting cold water run over my hands before splashing it onto my face. Again.

And again.

Taking my sponge into my hands, I scrubbed my skin furiously. I wanted to wash away the atrocities committed last night.

Finally, I stepped out, dressed in clean clothes, and my expression had reset to my usual expression.

Emily studied my movement as if trying to spot something. “…You’re really not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Fine.” She pushed off the wall. “Then at least tell me this—did you lose anything?”

My hands instinctively went to the folder.

Still there. I opened it slightly, scanning the contents.

Every document is exactly where it should be. Closing it again, I replied. “…No.”

That mattered. More than anything else right now.

She let out a breath. “Good, I'm sure that is our only way to win over Mr Carter. You’ve been guarding it like your life depends on it.”

“It does.” I didn’t hesitate.

I walked past Emily and set the folder carefully on the table. My fingers lingered on it for a second before pulling away.

“That man…” Emily started, slower now. “You didn’t even know him, right?”

“No.”

“Then why help him?”

The question hung in the air longer than expected. Finally, I replied. “…Because he looked like he needed it.”

She watched me with something unreadable crossing her face.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “And look where that got you with your father.”

I didn’t respond.

Walking into the kitchen, I started preparing coffee for myself. "Emily, we are visiting my father today. Do the usual".

She stares at him, "Mr Carter has never cared about your well-being, not even how you survive".

I took a sip of the made coffee. "I have survived those years, without his care. He remains my father".

She slammed her hands on the table. "Your father!!! That man that focus on that wretched woman and her son. You worked to get yourself to this position and all he could do was to give that spoiled brat your position."

"Emily, I'm tired. I just want to sleep, just do the usual." I took a long sip and walked to my room.

"Are you still going to that place".

"Emily I don't know, I'm honestly fed up. I don't know if I'm cursed, all I do is never enough. Now I got raped".

"What did you say!" Her eyes widened.

"Yes raped Emily, I was raped by that man I helped. I.....I don't know who I offended.....I am fed up Emily". Tears stream down my face.

“I’m sorry, Elias… I didn’t know.” She closed the distance between us, wrapping her arms around me.

“Let it out,” she murmured against my shoulder. “You’re safe here.”