The Dark Secret of the CEO by Sofia de Orellana

Chapter 1

“…Isn’t it taking too long, Sir?”

“She’ll wake up. Soon. …Isn’t my daughter so pretty already?”

“Yes, yes…”

I hear someone chuckle, a deep voice. After a couple more seconds of struggle, I finally manage to open my eyes. Oh, crap, it’s bright…

“Good morning, my Sleeping Beauty.”

A silhouette appears above me, blocking the light. I blink a couple of times, trying to distinguish those facial features. A smile like a shark amongst a greyish, perfectly combed beard, and two piercing, ice-cold blue eyes. …Who’s that? I can’t help but keep blinking repeatedly, my eyes dry as hell. Where the heck am I? What’s going on? I want to move. My body’s so damn heavy… What’s that weird smell, too? I try to move my head, look around. This place is so… white. All monochrome, white and metal. Sanitized and cold like a hospital. No, wait. It looks like it must be cold, but I don’t feel cold at all. Nor hot. Just… neutral. So weird…

I do feel something hard and sturdy underneath me. I’m not on a bed. A table?

“Can you hear us?”

I turn my head, finding another man on my right, seated and staring from behind his glasses. I do hear them. I want to answer, but… my throat hurts! It hurts so much, like it’s completely dry, and raspy. I want to talk, but I don’t even know how to breathe! I can’t feel any air moving through my lungs, my throat… I try to inhale, but it feels empty, like my organs are moving for strictly nothing.

“Answer us,” the man insists. “Can you hear us?”

He’s wearing a white coat and scrubs? I just nod by reflex.

“I… I-I do.”

The air I finally feel seems so strange in my lungs, my throat. My own voice sounds different. Deeper, raspier.

“Good.”

“Give me your hand, Dear,” gently says the bearded one next to me. “Let’s have you sit up first.”

I feel his cold hand grabbing mine, and very gently, he helps me sit up. My body feels so heavy, I thought I’d get a bit dizzy or something, but there is none of that. Just some strange… nausea. I try to ignore it and sit up, to finally realize where exactly I am…

“Is this a… mortuary?” I mutter, a bit confused.

I’ve never been into one, but there’s no mistaking it. I’ve seen enough crime shows for that. Those rows of chrome cupboard doors with numbers on them, and this aseptic, cold hospital atmosphere, without any patients… I look down, and notice I’m sitting on a silver table, like one they put the bodies on. Except that I’m very much awake and alive, and not naked nor covered by just a sheet like I’d imagine a corpse to be. Instead, I’m actually wearing a long-sleeved black dress I’ve never seen before…

“What the…”

“Seems like you’re a quick one,” says the guy in the doctor outfit. “Yes, this is a morgue. Your death was pronounced at thirty-four minutes past one this morning, and it’s now… ten in the evening.”

“My… death? But I’m not…”

“Oh, no, you’re dead. According to the humans standard, you were dead the minute your heart stopped beating, although you were formally pronounced dead a few minutes later. But you did die at around one o’clock this morning.”

no sense,”

do I feel… extremely weird, but those two are making it even more uncomfortable. There’s a man in a white coat giving me a lecture about my supposed death right now, and another staring at me with… a creepy expression.

Asks the creepy

got a British accent… Or is it Scottish? His blue eyes look as if he’s scanning me. I

like hell, and… I’m feeling

says the

guy behind him waves with

I know him, like a long-lost parent. Have I met him before? Even if my mind wasn’t so fuzzy, I don’t think I could remember. No, I wouldn’t have

says Ethan, his eyes still on the paper. “It’s just the beginning, but it should subside, though. Eventually.

throat hurts,”

Or perhaps because it’s new. I drink, I keep drinking. No, I just can’t stop myself. I push all my thoughts

“…Good girl.”

away from me before I can protest. Now that I’ve drunk a bit, I feel a bit better, but also… even more confused. He’s visibly the man in charge, so I turn to him for answers. The nausea’s getting worse,

going on?” I mutter.

“Do you remember?”

I have a feeling. The pain, the loneliness. The rain against the windows, the neon lights from the billboards, and the darkness of my room… The bathtub overflowing. The lukewarm water, and that pain… The one in my chest, deeper and worse than the one dripping down my wrists. …It’s like a nightmare that

“I… I…”

to kill myself. No… I fucking did. I grab my other sleeve, to find the same bandage,

“Hera.”

forcing me to look into his blue eyes again. He smiles, with a hint of warmth,

mutters. “You will be alright. This is all over. You’re mine

What did you

more, and I start to feel… sleepy. Why am I sleepy now? So suddenly. My head feels

child,” he whispers. “You’ll feel better when

have no choice but to obey. My whole

in the background. I grimace. I’m still feeling crappy, but it’s a bit better… The ache in my throat is gone. I glance at the window next to me. It’s night again… But this isn’t a window. It’s a plane window… and we’re

“Good evening, darling.”

He’s looking at me with that smile, slowly swirling a glass of

mutter.

says, glancing outside. “We will land in

frown.

“Is there a problem?”

my protest. I guess I have a few bigger issues than going back to that City for now… I try to remember what happened. It still feels like I’m half in a dream, or in a weird daze. I look down, to notice I’m still wearing the same black dress as before. It looks simple, but I can tell when a piece of fabric is expensive. That kind of lace and embroidered top isn’t one you’ll buy at any store. I glance around. This is definitely a private jet, too… And while he’s not wearing any jewelry but a couple of old

I finally ask.

so many questions, and about as many wild guesses floating in my

save me?”

didn’t,” he smiles. “I only

he’s obviously avoiding my real meaning… My eyes

that I drank earlier, was

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