Erica
Mario returned a few hours later carrying a bowl of cut fruits in a tray. He sat the bowl on the scarred wooden corner near my bed and proceeded to leave. I stopped him and asked, “Am I allowed to leave the room?”
“Of course. There are no such orders against that.” He answered.
He was infuriating in his calmness, just like his fûcking master. But I managed to pull my voice down to a normal level, enough to ask, “How long have you worked for him?”
“Long enough.”
I heard his silent words that said he wouldn’t be betraying his master for me. But still, I asked, “How can you be an accomplice to him for something like this?”
He looked at me, his blue eyes sharp as he said, “I’m sure the master has his reasons.”
“So he told me. I didn’t f*****g think that being rejected and slapped
