Boring:

Yolie:

I always complained that my daily life was boring and nonspecial, now that I have been locked up in this place for a week I still think the same.

 My shoes and glasses showed up, luckily. Apparently some Patrick person had them in his possession. It's not exactly that I hate going barefoot, it's that doing so reminds me of my accident.

I've managed to stay away from Mr. Kidnapper because I don’t want to see him. I hate him! This week has helped me to think and realize that something very strange is going on here.

To begin with, the first memory I have of HIM (I even refused to think or say his name) is combined with the events of three years ago. Then there are those erotic dreams that I thought were the product of my overheated imagination but no, there HE is, to prove that the object of my fantasies is VERY real.

On the other hand there are all those things he told me. His words echo in my head over and over again.

*I am nothing more and nothing less than the person to whom you owe your miserable little life. I am the man you have been wallowing in your dreams with for three years, I am the man you desire even now ...*

*Don't play with me, little one and don't kid yourself, you can't escape from me ...*

*You're mine now and I can do whatever I want to you, you'd better get used to the damn idea!*

None of this makes sense. When I woke up in the hospital the staff told me I had been taken there by a Canadian couple who saw the crash happen and thinking that the ambulance was delaying too much, they risked moving me.

Yet, HE says I owe him my life. Don Kidnapper and his pal were there, I'm sure. I remember them clearly. It is true that in those minutes I was dying and maybe it's true they helped me. I don't know, maybe they applied a tourniquet to my femoral fracture or something, but if they were the ones who rescued me why the hospital staff told me otherwise. The version the nurse gave me definitely doesn't match what I remember.

On the other hand there is that other side to all this, a little more personal and delicate side. How does he know I've been dreaming about him? Can he read minds or something?

Thinking so much about all this gives me headaches.

The Villa itself is huge. This past week I have been able to explore much of it but I have not finished exploring it because on Thursday I found the library and Wow! Right there my scouting mission stopped.

The amount of books here is simply staggering. There are all kinds of sections, science, philosophy, history, arts. Am a bit disappointed because it doesn't contain many romance novels, just a few of the classics and I have already read most of them.

Since I discovered this incredible accumulation of literary treasures, I have made the library my refuge and manages to spend the day lying on a couch reading one book after another. Today is Saturday and I have already read at least ten of them.

There are three employees in the villa and they are Greeks, of course. Kostas is the handyman and gardener. He must be about sixty years old but he is one of those people whose lively and good-natured character makes them seem much younger, until you touch his roses, then he becomes a grumpy old man. His wife Cosima is more serious, she is the cook and housekeeper. She always scolds me in her unintelligible English when I miss a meal for having my nose stuck in a book. Their granddaughter Eleni is eighteen years old and she hates me, it's not hard to guess why.

Investigating the rooms on the first floor I found hers and it has a wall full of newspaper clippings and photographs in which the images one man predominates: Alex.

The girl is obsessed with him.

 He's been photographed getting out of a disco, on the red carpet at a film premiere, on the beach, getting into his limo ... I saw hundreds and hundreds of clippings. I must admit that I’m kind of morbid, because I took advantage of the opportunity and carefully studied many of the snapshots and in almost all of them he was accompanied by women, whom I suspect are models. All very beautiful and very elegant, blondes, brunettes, redheads, Asians, the guy doesn’t discriminate. He has had more lovers than I have hairs on my head and this makes me sigh with relief because I’m sure that a man who is used to surrounding himself with beautiful women will quickly get bored of my disheveled appearance and my glasses and will send me back home. Really soon. Right?

Alex:

I've been spying on her from afar for a week. The curious brunette thinks that she has managed to avoid me and does not know that I watch her every minute. The first few days she distracted herself walking around the Villa, going in and out of rooms and driving Kostas and Cosima crazy.

The former does not tolerate having his beloved roses plucked, and the latter maintains her meal schedules more strictly than if she were a general, straightening out a regiment of rogues and rude recruits.

I had to speak harshly to both of them. Explaining that they cannot under any circumstances bother my guest. I took care of that enough. Regret gnaws at me.

I shouldn't have yelled at her, I shouldn't have lost patience with her. I was about to show her my true face and if I had done so am convinced she would have fled in terror.

I was a fool to believe she would fall into my arms just by seeing me. We have made love thousands of times over the past three years, but it was always through the invisible bond that binds our minds. It is true she wants me, even if she denies it, our wild make-out session proved it to me, I could smell her. The delicious scent of her wet sex was more than enough evidence to know that I turned her on.

Zeus!

Next time I have her close enough I will not let her escape. I'm going to undress her and possess her before she has time to reason. Her thoughts are erratic and go in a thousand directions at once. Her thoughts about herself are not at all flattering and hearing what she was thinking a few days ago in my office made me angry.

How can such a seductive and clever girl not realize how much I she attracts me?

The other day she was snooping around Eleni's room, the teenager’s photos' collection made a great impression on my guest because she stayed looking at them for fifteen minutes. My silly witch thinks that because I have had so many lovers (whom in her wayward opinion are much prettier than herself) I will be willing to let her go very soon. This belief has made her relax and she no longer repeats to herself how much she hates me every other second.

But she is very mistaken. I haven't had eyes for any other woman for three years. She's mine now. MINE. And I have no intention of letting her go.

Yolie:

I've been here a fortnight now. I'm bored to death. This villa has five swimming pools and three indoor golf courses, two gyms, fifty bedrooms, two dining rooms, an internal garden and a monstrous library that occupies practically the entire third floor.

I don't know what else to read, I've already finished the entire collection of romance novels and the other sections don't really attract my attention, so.

Wandering aimlessly inside the villa is not so much fun for me anymore, because there is nothing more to discover. On the third floor there is also a locked room that I couldn't get into.

Eleni explained to me that ... well, Alex has the key and that no one is allowed inside it, not even Cosima. Apparently he himself is in charge of cleaning there.

Brilliant. I roll my eyes. A modern version of Bluebeard has kidnapped me and he keeps the torn corpses of his ex-wives right there!

I know he's around here, somewhere. I can feel his presence throughout the house as if it were a stream of energy. I haven't seen him in two weeks and haven't even dreamed of him again. Not that I miss him, of course not, it's just that I think enough is enough.

Isn’t it?

I want to go home. It seems to me that it is about time.

000

Today I’m particularly bored. For a moment I consider the possibility of going in search of my host and demanding that he return me to my country, but to be honest, I’m afraid of facing him again. Las time we were face to face, the murderous gleam in his eyes was more than real and I have no desire to be a victim of strangulation right now.

Alexander Philipides, the owner of all inside this Villa is Greek man , a millionaire, a womanizer and a psychopath.

I smile to myself as I try to untangle my hair.

I have to think of something to entertain myself today. I could try to escape, but according to Eleni this side of the island is private property.

The ferry isn’t authorized to bring people here. Transport is by air only , a private jet, piloted by Patrick and it only takes off under the express orders of his royal bossiness.

Thank goodness Eleni is fluent in English. For anything else she is surly, she doesn't deign bringing me a soft drink even if I beg her to, but she has turned out to be very useful to know things about Alex. The girl enjoys feeling superior by showing that she knows much more about him than I do.

I drop the brush in frustration. There is no use, this hair of mine has gone on a strike today.

I stand up and go to the window looking at the beautiful stretch of crystal clear water and sandy beach that runs along the Villa’s side. Going for a dip would be as easy as walking twenty meters, descending a rocky staircase and arriving at the pristine sand.

What did his Eccentricity say about it?

Oh yeah, that I couldn't go alone. Well, maybe I could convince Eleni to join me.