Marceline's Closet Novels & Stories

Marcello said to me breaking the chain of my thoughts. It didn’t take me more than a split of second to close the door behind me, these powerful men creep me out. My eyes became teary thinking there’s no one in this world, out of billions of people who actually cares for me and how I am living in this world. Marcello’s tone left no doubt for me that if I want to breathe, I must act according to their rules. I dragged my tired body to the closet and opened it. There were more than a dozen dresses arranged neatly with lingerie and footwears. They were exact my size and I wondered who bought these for me. I hurried inside the attached bathroom and showered to get rid off the exhaustion.

Marcel, who was dressed in a royal golden robe, walked into his room and he met the four beautiful ladies already on top of his bed in their bikinis just as he had ordered. They looked really beautiful and tempting but surprisingly his demons were quiet like a graveyard. Are they not seeing this or are they asleep? Marcel wondered.

“I was in my room.” “You were unaccounted for,” Marcelline repeated. Arwen looked past her at Isolde. Isolde looked back with her red-rimmed eyes and said nothing. She stepped back from the door. “Go ahead,” she said. “Look.” Marcelline moved into the room with the security staff behind her and went straight for the dresser like she already knew where it was. She opened the second drawer. She stopped. Reached in and lifted the pendant by its chain and held it up and turned around.

Her imagination or mind has a mind of its own and keeps thinking what she doesn't even want to think at all. Marcel, who was dressed only in a pajamas bottoms, slowly walked to the bed while drying his hair. He rubbed his hair with a small towel and after it dried a little, he threw it to the chair in the room and moved to sit in the bed on the side that Izabelle prepared for him. It was big enough even for two to three more persons. Damn! Why did she shift that far?

The elderly maid who was in charge of taking care of small things for Pricilla such as bathing and preparing clothes Pricilla who initially cried wanted to do it alone but Marcel emphasized that he did not want Pricilla to be in danger especially if Marcel could not watch her. Marcel also walked up the stairs that would lead into the luxurious room that became the main room for Marcel. the all-white room atmosphere with neutral furniture gave a clean impression to Marcel's room. His wedding photo and grace are again installed in a large enough frame right on the wall facing toward his bed. This is so that Marcel can see Grace's face every time he opens his eyes and closes his eyes. ***

" The one that was wearing a blue chiffon sundress and white sneakers?" Celina asked and Marcelo nodded. " I wasn't staring at anyone." Marshall defended but his siblings wouldn't let it slide. "Of course you were mash." Marcelo commented " I'm sure she's probably in Ana's room now, complaining about the freak who kept staring." Celina laughed. " Well in my defense, one should not move around in short dresses if they have such long and flawless limbs. If you ask me I was only teaching her a lesson on modesty."

"Mr Marcel must have a lot of female visitors' I remarked to Maria who smiled. "I mean look at these dresses, do they come in all sizes" I asked, I felt the need to know just how much of a womanizer Ethan was. "Mr Marcel likes to keep his bed warm" she spoke in parable but I got the message. He was just like his son but what did I expect? "Size 8, perfect" I said pulling out a plain mustard gown from the closet. "Maria, you know I am not one of his..." I paused as the old woman stared keenly at me.

Everything about them was fluid, and deliberate in a way that felt natural. “We came bearing gifts.” Antoine continued. “Oh shut up, Antoine,” Marcelo rolled his eyes. “You’re so erratic.” He turned to me with a grin. “Miss, we came here to reshape your wardrobe.” He walked towards the closet door and paused. “Or not. There’s nothing to reshape here,” he said sarcastically. The closet only had two robes hanging inside. “Could you stand up, miss?” He held my hand gently and helped me out of bed while Marcelo circled around me critically. They measured my waist, bust, hips, and shoulders with a tape measure.

"Yes, yes, what Nicole said is true. Let's go. Let's take a look at your bedroom. I heard it is very pink and beautiful!" She quickly changed the subject, not wanting to continue the conversation. The housekeeper suppressed a smile. "Ms. Nightingale, this way please." Nicole, after all, was taught by Gale herself. She was sensible, obedient and polite. He did not know when...Ms. Nicole would regain her sobriety, making Winnie completely worthless and disappearing from sight forever! Nicole's bedroom is on the second floor. These days, the housekeeper and a dozen servants had been rushing in and out. It was finally fully renovated and completed.