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Chapter Three: Thirst, Dust, and the Beginning of Trouble

ผู้เขียน: Augustchick
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-06-28 19:33:49

Isabella’s POV

Pagmulat ko ng mata ko, unang pumasok sa isip ko: sana panaginip lang ‘to.

Pero ‘yung chandelier sa kisame, yung linen ng kama na parang kinurta ng hotel sa Paris, at higit sa lahat, yung pakiramdam ng pagkakulong—lahat ‘yon sobrang totoo.

At ang bladder ko?

Mas totoo pa.

Wiwing wiwi na ako.

Napatingin ako sa pinto. Locked. Walang bintana. Walang CR sa loob ng kwarto. Literal na wala akong makitang kahit anong palatandaan kung paanong nabubuhay ang mga tao sa kwartong ‘to.

Saktong kinakatok na ang pinto.

Bumukas. Nandun na naman si Ate Malamig—yung babae kahapon na parang hindi puwedeng tanungin kung anong favorite K-drama niya.

“Tumayo na po kayo dyan,” sabi niya. “Pinapababa na kayo ni Sir Lance at simulan nyo nang linisin ang sala”.

So Lance pala ang pangalan niya.

Napakunot ang noo ko. “As in, may janitorial duties pala ang hostage?”

Hindi siya tumugon. Tinuro lang niya ang daan. Sinundan ko.

Pagbaba namin sa hagdan, dumiretso siya sa isang storage room. Naglabas ng dusting cloths, walis, at disinfectant spray. Legit. May full set pa talaga.

Iniabot niya ‘yung gamit sa’kin. “Huwag kang magulo. Walis ka lang. Punasan mo ‘yung mga mesa. Wag kang hahawak ng kahit anong hindi pinapagalaw.”

“Sige,” sabi ko.

Iniwan niya akong mag-isa sa sala.

Nilinga ko ang paligid. Maganda talaga yung bahay. Para kang nasa museum meets villain lair. Marble lahat. May mga vase na mukhang imported pa mula Rome. At sa gitna ng lahat ng ‘to—ako. Naka-oversized T-shirt at dusting rag.

Ang classy ng pagkabihag ko, grabe.

Habang naglilinis ako, ramdam ko na uhaw na uhaw na ako. At ihing-ihi pa rin. Focus, Isabella. Focus.

Tumingin ako sa hallway. Tahimik. Walang tao.

Alam ko bawal, pero hindi ko kayang maglinis habang sumisigaw na ang pantog ko. Kaya, ayun—sumilip ako sa hallway. Isang pinto. Sarado. Isa pa. Banyo kaya ‘to?

Bago ko pa man ma-realize ang consequences, binuksan ko na.

Tama nga ako. Banyo!

Shet, thank you, Lord!

Pumasok ako. Sarado agad ang pinto. At dun, sa wakas, nahanap ko ang kapayapaan.

Pagkatapos, tumingin ako sa salamin. Ayun. Ako pa rin. Pero version ng sarili kong hindi ko halos makilala.

So haggard. Gusto ko nang maligo pero wala akong damit. Hayyyy.

Nagbukas ako ng gripo. Naghilamos. Tumulo ang tubig sa leeg ko. Sobrang lamig. Sobrang sarap.

Ngayon lang ako huminga ulit nang maayos.

Pero hindi ko alam—habang nagmamadali ako, may isang bagay akong nakalimutan: magsabi kung saan ako pupunta.

At somewhere, sa ibang parte ng bahay, may sumisigaw na pala.

“Nawawala si ma'am!”

“Check all exits. Now!”

May mga yabag. May mga boses. May panic.

Putangina. Panic dahil ihing-ihi lang ako?!

Bago ko pa man mabuksan ang pinto palabas ng banyo, may sumalubong na sa’kin—dalawang lalaki. Malalaki. Guards.

“T-Teka lang!” sabi ko. “Nag-CR lang ako! Huwag n’yong akong hawakan!”

Hinawakan nila ako sa braso. Hindi marahas, pero firm. “You’re not supposed to leave your assigned area.”

“I was about to pee in the f*cking potted plant, okay?! Anong gusto n’yo? Doon ako sa vase magwiwi?!”

Biglang may pumasok na panibagong presensya.

At oo—SIYA.

Si Mr. Cold and Creepy. Nakasuot na naman ng all-black. Matalim ang tingin. At halatang masama ang mood.

“What the hell is going on?” tanong niya, boses na parang sinampal ng yelo ang hangin.

“Sir, she wasn’t in the lounge. Staff thought she—”

“She what?” singit niya. “Escaped?”

“Nag CR lang pala, Sir.”

Tumigil siya. Tumingin sa akin.

Hindi siya nagsalita.

Ako na ang naunang nagtaas ng kamay, parang estudyanteng nadampot sa cheating scandal.

“I just had to pee.”

Tahimik.

Tiningnan niya ako mula ulo hanggang paa. Walang emosyon niya akong sinuri.

“You don’t move without permission,” he said.

“Noted. Next time I’ll just wet the carpet,” sagot ko. “At least fancy ang texture.”

Lumapit siya. Mabagal. Dahan-dahan. Ang bigat ng bawat hakbang.

I swallowed. Hard.

“You think this is funny?”

“No,” bulong ko. “I think this is insane. But here we are.”

Tumigil siya sa harap ko. Sht. Deja vu na naman.* Yung presensya niya, bumabalot. Parang multo. Pero mainit. Pero malamig. Hindi ko maipaliwanag.

“You don’t get another warning,” sabi niya. “The next time you disappear, I’ll assume you’re running.”

“At pag ‘yon ang inassume mo?” tanong ko.

He leaned in slightly. “Then you’ll see a different side of me. One you won’t forget.”

At muli siyang tumalikod.

“Tangina,” bulong ko sa sarili ko.

“I heard that. Stop cursing or I'll sew that mouth” sabi niya, kahit pa palabas na siya ng hallway.

Napakagat ako sa labi. Oo na. Mali na. Next time magpapaalam ako.

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    **Isabella’s POV** **Monday.** Fresh start daw. Pero bakit parang may sumpa ang elevator to the 26th floor? Parang pag-akyat ko, kasama ko rin yung kaba, sama ng loob, at ‘yung mga tanong na ayaw kong tanungin. I was back at work. Fully. Physically, at least. Naglagay ako ng light makeup at sinuklay nang maayos ang buhok ko. I'm wearing a turtle neck knitted top and black pants today. Then came a message from Ms. Therese: > “10AM meeting at the boardroom, Isabella. Bring printed copies of the new hiring funnel. You’re joining us.” Great. CEO-level meeting. With him. So I prepped everything, triple-checked the layout, and took the elevator. My hands were sweating. Heart stiff. Mind racing with reminders like *act normal, don’t stutter, don’t choke.* --- Pagpasok ko sa boardroom, andun na si Ms. Therese at si Lance. Naka-roll up ang sleeves niya, same intimidating presence, same unreadable face. He didn’t look at me directly. Just a short nod. Business. Cold. Calculated. I

  • Kidnapped By Mistake   Chapter 21

    **Isabella’s POV** Pagmulat ko, agad akong napabalikwas. "Shit! Late na ako!" Napatingin ako sa wall clock—8:03 AM. I grabbed my bag, hinagilap ang phone, and dashed barefoot to the door. Hindi ko na ininda na naka-oversized polo lang ako na obviously hindi akin. Basta makaalis lang ako bago ako ma-late. Naka-leave pa naman si Ms. Therese, baka si Sir Wayde pa ang makakita. Pero pagbukas ko ng pinto— “Where do you think you’re going?” That voice. That same deep, calm, annoyingly composed voice. I froze. Si Lance. Or Wayde. Whatever. Nakatayo sa may kitchen island, naka-black shirt at joggers, may hawak na tasa ng kape. Ang casual niya—pero intimidating pa rin, like he owned the air in the room. “I’m late!” I panicked, still clutching my bag like it could save me from humiliation. “May reports pa akong kailangang i-submit! Hindi ako pwedeng—” “Isabella,” putol niya, expression still unreadable. “It’s Saturday.” Nanigas ako. “Anong…” Then it hit me. **Satur

  • Kidnapped By Mistake   Chapter 20

    **Isabella’s POV** Pagpasok ko sa guest room, tahimik. Ang lamig. Parang walang may-ari ang kwarto, pero everything was in place—folded towels, a neatly made bed, even a pair of indoor slippers by the nightstand. Mukhang bihirang gamitin. O baka naman talaga niyang inihanda 'to para sa bisitang ayaw niyang nandito. I lay down but sleep didn’t come easy. --- 2:46 a.m. I woke up shivering. Ubo. Sakit ng ulo. Parang sinasaksak ng kutsara yung lalamunan ko. My throat burned, and my skin felt clammy. Takte, mas lumala ata. I sat up, legs shaky as I stumbled out of the room. Naglalakad ako pa-kitchen, hoping to find water. Or silence. Or clarity. Instead, I found him. Still awake. Still in the same clothes, now wearing thin reading glasses, typing something on his laptop at the kitchen counter. He didn’t look surprised. “Why are you up?” he asked, not even looking away from his screen. “Thirsty,” I croaked. He stood immediately and reached for the filtered pitcher in the frid

  • Kidnapped By Mistake   Chapter 19

    **Isabella’s POV** I should’ve gone home early. I should’ve listened to my body. But no. I showed up again the next day, throat dry, eyes heavy, every muscle in my back screaming *rest*, *stop*, *please*. But I didn’t. Because I needed this job? Or maybe because I refused to let him think I was weak. So I pushed. And I fell. Not dramatically—just slowly. Like a flickering light that finally gave up. --- It was around 8:40 p.m. I stayed late to organize new-hire files. The floor was nearly empty. My head was pounding, and I was using the edge of my desk just to keep myself upright. I stood to grab a folder—next thing I knew, I was on the floor. I didn’t even realize I’d collapsed until I felt the rough carpet under my cheek. “Shit,” I whispered. My vision swam. I didn’t know how much time passed. Just the quiet hum of the lights above. And then— Footsteps. Again. Then his voice. Firm. Sharp. Not panicked—just **immediately in control**. “Isabella.” I d

  • Kidnapped By Mistake   Chapter 18

    **Isabella’s POV** This week? Chaos. The kind that creeps into your bones and makes your throat feel scratchy even before you admit something’s wrong. Four days straight of late nights. Tight deadlines. Reports for executives I never met. I barely had time to blink, let alone rest. My shoulders hurt. My head ached. My appetite vanished. And yet—I showed up. I don't remember being this workaholic. Maybe I just want to seize every chance that I can get to see him. Damn self. --- By Thursday, I felt it in full: the feverish warmth under my skin, the dull pounding in the back of my head, the aching limbs. But I still went to work. Wrapped myself in layers. Drank salabat I couldn’t afford. Popped paracetamol and hoped for the best. “Girl, mukha kang hindi okay,” bulong ni Sarah habang nagpa-print ako ng onboarding checklist. “Okay lang. Pagod lang ‘to,” I muttered, kahit ako mismo hindi naniniwala. --- That night, almost 9:30 na, I was still finishing a final report f

  • Kidnapped By Mistake   Chapter 17

    **Isabella’s POV** The next day, I kept my head down. I didn’t tell anyone what happened in that office. I filed the signed onboarding kit. I answered emails. I triple-checked my spelling. I ate my soggy chicken sandwich in silence. But no matter how much I buried myself in checklists and spreadsheets, I couldn’t forget how he said my name. How his voice dropped low—measured, commanding—like I was still a variable in his carefully calculated empire. Act like it, he had said. And ***I did.*** I clocked in on time. I avoided the executive floor like it was cursed. I stopped flinching at the elevator ding. But one thing still gnawed at me. ***Why did he care if I ate spoiled food?*** --- A few days later, as I was sorting applicant files, Therese walked by my desk. “Isabella, do you have a minute?” she asked casually. “Yes po.” She gestured toward the hallway. “Let’s go upstairs. Mr. Alonzo wants to review some of the new process flows with HR. Sama ka na, since ikaw ang gu

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