Twin Tormentors By RARE

Chapter 24

LEIGH-ARI

Consciousness slowly dawned on me and I became vaguely aware of my surrounding. My eyes were pinched closed and I seemed to be lying on my back with my head snuggled cozily on a plush pillow. However, it didn’t feel like I was waking up from a long sleep; it felt like a sedative was wearing off in my bloodstream and I was back to the land of the living.

I groaned out aloud as I turned to my side and searched the side table for my phone. My hand came into contact with a hard dang ass frigid post and I let out a curse. What in the actual hell? I got up to a sitting position with my eyes still closed. Somehow they fell so heavy that I couldn’t even open them. After some brief negotiation with them, they slowly peeled open and I took in my surrounding.

I was sitting on a huge four-poster king-sized bed covered in white sheets and a deep grey blanket was draped over my body. The white curtains of the bed were neatly cuffed up the metal posts, revealing the cream-painted walls with gold highlights almost everywhere. The room didn’t have much furniture but it was opulent enough for one to know that whoever owned it; was some kind of a rich skank. Could this be the penthouse?

The penthouse! Yes!

I recalled the events of the previous day and I sighed when I realized I was still safe. I would have freaked out if I woke up in a different place because I don’t know what the hell happened last night. All I recall was Lorenzo taking me out for dinner and me raining hell on him for… well, for making me happy! Yeah, that was lousy. I didn’t remember what happened after that. And today was the day for the worksh..

“Holy shit!” I cursed kicking off the blanket and nearly planting myself face first as I got off the bed. I hopped on one leg as I tried to untangle the blanket that was insanely wrapped around my leg and once it was free, I took off to the enjoined door which I assumed was the bathroom. I pushed the door only to come to an abrupt stop, it was empty. Like it was just a room, and it was empty.

I turned and looked at the only other door that was in the room and ran towards it; yanked in open only to reveal stone walls and long dimly lit staircases that spiraled down. One thing that I came to realize was that this wasn’t the penthouse of Sheraton Grand whatever the hell that hotel was called. This was somewhere else in the world and it sure had to be dreamland.

som

But was I dreaming?

last on my mind since I was on a mission to find the bathroom and get ready for the workshop, or walk around this place and see whether I am

room also had stone walls with stone tiles. The lantems flickered on the sides to give some light and the bulbs came to assistant. There was a huge white carpet that stretched from where I

no sound as I walked deeper into a rather intriguing room. I turned and stood gobsmacked, my

long black hair and a huge smile,

laughing at something when the picture was clicked. Her face was in the direction of the blazing sun, which kissed her lovingly bathing her in its glorious warmth and light. Some strands of her hair were all over her face and she

took a step back in shock and horror, my eyes still glued at the portrait because I knew the lady intimately. The lady was none but me. And I seriously

muscles. The fresh

you, Tesoro.” Lorenzo stood in front of me in a black dress shirt that had two top buttons undone. The shirt was tugged neatly into his pants with a

face and my eyes widened in horror. This

on his face and he dared to chuckle. H e turned and took confident steps towards his wine cupboard and fished out two glasses,

a glass but instead, I eyed it as if it was a monster ready to bite me and then shook my head

table and sat down, muscles bucking and tugging

are not Lorenzo.” I pointed out glaring

replied glaring back at me, his grey eyes insanely piercing me to the core. Anger brewed from deep

a small swig of his wine before slightly

My voice came out with a bit of a tremor as reality dawned on me like a bucket of icy cold water. I shivered,

is illegal.” A much softer and familiar voice called out from behind

the tattooed “Lorenzo” who was sipping wine on the couch, and the “REAL Lorenzo” that was standing beside me

Yes, now I knew that Lorenzo was here, and that there was yet another Lorenzo who had tattoos and was the spitting image of the other

and bee-lined passed me, then perched himself beside his other image