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,” I

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. What the heck is

Asks the

Or is it Scottish? His blue eyes

I’m feeling somewhat sick. Nauseous.

is Richard,” says the British

him

adjusts his round glasses and turns around to grab a paper on his desk, visibly unbothered. He has short curly hair and a two-day beard. I turn my eyes to Richard. I feel such a strange… sensation towards him. As if 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 forgotten someone with such a

Ethan, his eyes still on the paper. “It’s just the

hurts,”

just can’t stop myself. I push all my thoughts aside and drink more and more, unable to stop. The liquid’s cold, but it’s filling and warming me up nicely. It’s almost calming, but it’s

“…Good girl.”

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

on?” I mutter. “What

“Do you remember?”

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 sticks to my mind.

“I… I…”

grab my other sleeve, to find the same bandage, the same blood stains on the other side. Ice runs down my spine, making me shiver

“Hera.”

cheek, forcing me to look into his blue eyes again. He smiles, with a hint of warmth, but more importantly, two visible

be alright. This is all over. You’re

What did

sleepy. Why am I sleepy

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

to obey. My whole self dives into sleep before

comfy leather armchair, a blanket covering me. There’s a strange, heavy buzzing 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

“Good evening, darling.”

Richard Heartgraves, again. He’s looking at me with that smile, slowly swirling a glass of wine between his

I mutter. “Where… are

“We will land in

frown. “Why

“Is there a problem?”

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 rings, Richard’s suit looks brand new, and tailored. Perhaps

you?” I finally ask. “Why…

just have so many questions, and about as many wild guesses

save me?”

didn’t,” he smiles. “I only

it, but he’s obviously avoiding my

wine that I drank

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