" Emilia.............," her Dad's anguished shout pierced the air, but she remained elusive, concealed in the shadows. Her father's drunken rage wreaked havoc in their tiny, overcrowded room, a space barely large enough for a single bed and a desk where Emilia once found solace in her studies.
" Dad............," Emilia's timid voice quivered as it emanated from the far corner of the room, her sanctuary turned into a nightmare. Trembling with fear, she clung to her legs, tears flowing freely as each crash of destruction echoed around her.
" Emilia.................., " her Dad's voice grew ominously closer. She glanced up, and terror flooded her senses as she beheld her father looming over her. In a cruel grip, he seized a fistful of her hair, wrenching her painfully to her feet. Her body quaked with fear.
" Are you deaf ? " His furious words were punctuated by a resounding slap across her tender face. Emilia winced, the searing pain reverberating through her cheek. She dared not defy him again, or risk an even more vicious reprisal. With a brutal shove, he expelled her from the room, demanding she fetch him something to eat.
Emilia, her eyes heavy with tears, reluctantly made her way to the kitchen. Her right cheek throbbed crimson from the brutal slap, and as she gingerly touched it, a whimper of pain escaped her lips. She prepared a meal for her father, a heartbreaking routine she had grown accustomed to.
As she presented the plate before him, he looked at her with an eerie nonchalance, as if the earlier violence had never occurred. Opening a bottle of wine that he had clutched in his hand, he poured himself a glass, relishing the meal served by his innocent daughter. Watching him, Emilia retreated to her room, where she sought refuge in her bed, clutching her teddy bear tightly to her chest. Tears streamed down her face as she contemplated her life, one she had never wished for.
Emilia, like other girls her age, had dreams. She yearned for an education that would grant her independence and free her from this wretched existence. She despised her father's involvement in the drug trade, a path he had taken after working at a drug manufacturing company. It was a job that ultimately led him to addiction and crime.
Despite his flaws, Emilia loved her father, for he was all she had. Her mother had tragically perished in an accident when Emilia was just three years old. Each night, before drifting into a troubled sleep, she would reflect on her past and fret about the uncertain future.
As exhaustion overtook her, Emilia fell into a restless slumber, clinging to her teddy bear as if it were her only guardian angel.
.........................................................................
" Master, please wake up..........., " Jorge implored in the softest tone, a voice filled with years of loyalty and respect. Jorge had faithfully served this family since Shane's childhood, earning the trust of the household as their dedicated caretaker.
" Master.............," Jorge persisted, his repeated calls to the slumbering Shane finally eliciting a response. Shane lay sprawled on his stomach, the sheet covering his lower body, while the other half dangled carelessly from the bed. He was shirtless, and the eagle tattoo spanning his back was prominently displayed.
Morning light streamed through the glass door, casting a gentle glow upon Shane's handsome face, enhancing his allure. He stirred slightly as Jorge continued to call his name. " What? " Shane's voice, though groggy, carried a hint of annoyance.
" Master, it's 10 o'clock in the morning......., " Jorge gently informed him. " I've been trying to wake you since 8 o'clock. Daniel has been waiting for you downstairs in your office. He has something important to discuss."
" Alright...............," Shane grumbled, slowly rousing himself. " You can go now, and tell Daniel I'll be there in 20 minutes................"
" Yes, Master.............," Jorge replied deferentially.
" Your breakfast is ready. Where would you like to have it? " Jorge asked in a polite tone.
" Set it on the dining table. I'll eat after I've spoken with Daniel." Shane instructed.
" Very well............., " Jorge acknowledged before hesitating.
" Master, I wanted to seek your permission. My daughter is quite ill, and I'd like to visit her. " Jorge asked in a low tone.
Shane, now fully awake, considered for a moment. " Not now, Jorge. I'm going to take a bath. You can go..............."
After emerging from the bathroom, Shane's jet-black, wet hair dripped water droplets onto his chiselled face. A soft, white towel loosely hung around his waist, accentuating his well-defined physique. Every muscle was on display as he moved toward his impeccably arranged wardrobe, ready to face the challenges of the day.