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Corridor

THE DAYS DRAGGED SLOWLY for Margaux. Just like the other nights, she’d been twisting left and right for hours and still couldn’t sleep. Not knowing what to do anymore, she closed her eyes and stopped moving. But then, even pretending to sleep didn’t help—her mind remained restless and wide awake.

Finally giving up, she grumpily sat on her bed and grabbed her phone from the bedside table. She checked the time and instantly frowned upon seeing what was on the LCD. It was past three in the morning. Although it was still dark outside, the sun would eventually show up in more or less two hours.

‘Good job for another sleepless night, Margaux! Four in a row. What are you trying to do? Get a Guinness Record for not sleeping?’

Annoyed, she rolled her eyes before sliding out of her bed. She marched towards the mini-living room with her phone in her hand, then made a free fall onto her luxurious cream-colored couch. Soon enough, she was already checking her emails on her phone as if she hadn’t done it just a few minutes ago.

She scrolled up and down multiple times. Her inbox was choking with subscription messages, but none of them were even personal. That made her smile sardonically. It was more than evident that ‘sleep’ wasn’t the only one who abandoned her, but her papa too.

It was not that she was new to the situation; it was just that she knew that something was going on, and it was bothering her a lot. So, with her eyebrows still furrowed, she started typing angrily on her phone.

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***

FROM: margaux.montenegro@gy.com

TO: alejandro.montenegro@montcorp.com

SUBJECT: HELLO STANGER!

Hello, Old Man!

If you happen to forget, my name is Margaux Montenegro, your goddamn only daughter, and heiress of the Montenegro Group. I'm still breathing, just in case you wanted to know. Would you mind sending me a fucking reply as soon as you receive this message? I'm having a hell of a sleepless night thinking about you, old man! REPLY! I don't care if you just type 'BITCH'. Send it anyway. 

***

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 Margaux looked up after typing her message. She could feel her eyes heating up, but then she held her tears back. Would she cry for someone who couldn’t even treat her as his own daughter?

The answer was a firm 'no.' Why would she want to do that? She doesn’t want to be like her miserable mother. In fact, she doesn’t want to need Alejandro as much either. But...

‘Damn it.’ She blinked her eyes repeatedly, then looked back at the message. One deep sigh, and she erased the rest of her email.

She rewrote:

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***

FROM: margaux.montenegro@gy.com

TO: alejandro.montenegro@montcorp.com

SUBJECT: REPLY

Hi Dad, 

I miss you. 

I love you. 

Can you please reply? 

***

She then hit the send button quickly and slipped her phone into her pajama pocket. As if guilty of doing something wrong, she bolted out of the bedroom with her lips pursed. She was upset, but she dared not cry.

Instead, she found herself walking through one of their villa's dark corridors, heading to their in-house private bar. His father loved collecting vintage wine. She didn't think Alejandro would mind if she stole some bottles from his cellar. Moreover, she even felt that he wouldn't care about her at all!

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 ON THE OTHER HAND, Rome could feel exhaustion eating him up with every quiet step he made in that corridor. 

He had been surveying the house secretly for the past couple of days and still couldn't find any clue about the Amati. So he also needed to plan his escape route from that place as soon as possible. 

However, beyond his wildest idea, escaping that place would be worse than running a labyrinth. He got lost inside the villa more times than he could count. Twenty rooms, four floors, and five secret passages that all lead to wherever The house literally has even more rooms and passages than a cheap mini-hotel! 

 ‘Damn it! I need Lucille. Someone needs to hack this villa's blueprint right now,' he thought as he kept on walking. He briefly glanced at the antique clock he passed by, and the time speeded up his steps, it was already four-thirty in the morning.

The new doctor, whom Alejandro took for him, would arrive in less than an hour.

Just like what they did to the first doctor who took care of him, the new one would be thrown like a log into his room with a paper bag over his or her head and his or her mouth shut with duct tape. 

He was drafting some escape routes two days ago and thought of experimenting on Doctor Liza. He knew how desperate that woman was to escape. Being as cunning as he was, he gladly took advantage of her terror and pretended to help her. He gave her the first draft of his escape route during one of her medical visits and had her memorize a phone number.

He then strictly instructed Liza to send a message to the number he gave her once she got out. Liza didn't even hesitate a bit and agreed. Little did she know about his genuine intention for her back then. She was nothing but a guinea pig.

It would be effortless for the guards to kill someone as delicate as her. Liza would live for a few more years before Alejandro's soldiers found her again, if his draft were correct. However, if it weren't, then bad for her; she would just have to admit that life could be unpredictable. 

Having been the son of a Mafia associate and raised with his life constantly on the line, Rome knew the word danger like the back of his hand and knew how the world could be just like hell to anyone. It could have been for him, too, if it wasn't for his father.

Rome was still thinking about his escape while walking through the dark corridor. He felt that his progress on this mission was too slow. He bet that his father was dying to find out how far he was with the task now.

‘I need to find that Amati soon. This mission can’t last any longer— Damn!’ His thoughts were cut off when a shadow suddenly came out of one of the rooms there and grabbed his shirt from behind.

Thinking that it was one of the guards who caught him spying, his defenses went on autopilot and immediately attacked it. Everything happened too fast, and the next thing heard in the corridor was a loud, echoing thud.

Still murderous, he straddled the shadow on the floor and grabbed it by the neck. He felt that it tried to hold him, but he, being stronger than it, didn't even budge an inch. He turned a deaf ear to it when he heard it choking for air since he aimed to kill it. Quickly and cleanly if possible.

He couldn't just leave any evidence about what he was about to do in the first place.

"Amber... you're crashing my boobsh..."

'W-what?' Rome's muscles instantly tensed upon hearing that slurry-choking voice. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, trying to recognize who was under him. Nonetheless, he maintained his killing stance as he digested what he heard. Did he really just hear boobs?

"Amber... I can't breathe. You're squishing my breast!"

That was when his fingers loosened around the shadow's neck but didn't let go. His mind was reeling hard. Who was Amber? Why was it calling him Amber?

He let his enemy gasp and cough for air. One of his strong hands was still around its neck, ready to snap it, while the other pinned its body to the ground. He focused on its voice, trying to distinguish it as much as he could.

"Thatsh a lot better." He heard it sigh in relief, followed by a loud hiccup.

"What the hell."

"If you are going to grope my breash, then at least grope it right, Amber!"

Before he could even anticipate what it would do next, a soft palm had already wrapped around his hand, which was pinning it, and started guiding his palm into a slow rubbing motion.

He was not the type of person who gets shocked quickly, but at that time, he was suddenly at a loss. Then, recovering from the initial shock, his mind began to scream, 'God! Tell me she isn't who I think she is. Please tell me she isn't this...'

"Amber?"

"Margaux?" He voiced out the first name that popped into his mind.

"Yes, what is it, Amber?

He closed his eyes tightly. It was just then that he realized what a soft, sinful part of her was under his hard hand, and he blurted aloud, "Damn!"

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