Chapter 6 ROCK BOTTOM

Seraphine’s Pov

This couldn’t be really real. I sighed, looking away from the sweet, sweet, freedom that lay above me.

Nobody in my company would believe it that I, the Angelina Vale was stuck in a well. It felt stupid to even think it. And yet, here I was.

I wondered which they’d be more surprised about, between that and me losing my voice because I ran my company with an iron fist and a louder voice.

I repeated my vow to myself, tweaking it a little. “Wheather or not I get my back voice, when I get out of here I would make him pay.”

I didn’t know how or, like, when but I would. I’d find a stick and shove it up his stupid, handsome ass.

Fuck this.

“I shouldn’t be sitting on my hands, waiting for someone to save me. I’m a badass boss bitch!”

I stalked forward the few steps, reaching for the walls of the well in the dwindling light of day. My new half-formed plan was to climb out of there, but immediately I touched it, I knew it wouldn’t work out. The well must not have any water for a super long time because it was smooth, dry dirt.

Still I tried to dig my fingernails into it but it felt like concrete and I only succeeded in dislodging a few bits of sand.

It was so close… but I wasn’t getting any closer.

“Okay, no sweat. New plan!”

I didn’t have a ton of options. I couldn’t even scream and banging on the walls only succeeded in hurting my hands. But I needed to bring attention to my presence inside the well somehow.

I pulled on the neckline of the dress, high, tight and frankly uncomfortable which was not helping in my situation. I fucking missed my own clothes.

“Ugh, what would it feel like to take this dang thing off and change into my soft pyjamas and my silk bedding—”

Wait. I could indeed take it off.

I paused, my hands already reaching for the fastenings. I actually needed to think this through.

Throwing my dress out of the well would definitely draw attention to around, and inside it, but did I really want to be naked in here? Not to mention when I was actually rescued. I’d have my juicy ass out for anyone and everyone that the spectacle of rescuing a naked woman would attract.

No. I wouldn’t throw my dress. But my shoes and undergarments should be enough.

I hurriedly resumed untangling the crudely done laces, tugged down my dress and took off my wide brassier. Not the Victoria Secret lingerie I usually wore but it should do the job.

I bunched it up and tossed it out, careful not to throw too far. Then I slid my bloomers and underwear off and tossed them out too. It was at that point I began to feel sorry for myself.

Oh, what the hell?

I took off the light, flimsy things I was given as shoes and tossed them out too.

Then I sat, waiting. A quiet anger began to stew inside me. I was in an easily remedied situation, if that royal bastard had any kindness.

Time ticked on slowly.

I held on to the anger because it kinda warmed my chest, the hot flash of simmering my only companion.

Then as the weather got colder, I did too and it even seemed to blanket that anger. More time passed. I didn’t have a watch so I didn’t know how much.

“Would a watch even work here?” I speculated. “It should, at least until the battery dies, right?”

It was with random and often silly questions like that, I used to kind of keep my mind grounded after I could no longer see my hands in front of my face.

And then, even though I didn’t admit it to myself at first, I began to get scared.

I shook my head as I felt something over my shoulders for the fourth time, refusing to look again.

“I’m not afraid, never!” I maintained.

I hadn’t been afraid since I was like twenty and I was not about to start now. I just didn’t like the dark, that was all. I was an advocate for the big light and usually had it on in my house. I didn’t even sleep in the dark, there was always a soft light on.

I hated it because my mind had nothing else to do back then but fill up with my wants, needs, and inadequacies. With my fears.

And now, I thought about how little anyone cared about me in this godforsaken place that I might remain here till morning, throughout tomorrow and maybe until I died. Again.

It didn’t help that I was hungry either. Something that wasn’t caused because I was staying late in a boardroom drafting a literal million-dollar pitch. No, I was hungry because I was a fucking maid in a fucking pit.

The first few tears that escaped my eyes were wiped away quickly, a speed I reserved for swiping my card on my impulse shopping buys. Crying was another thing that I hadn’t done in years. I’d found out young that it did not solve anything and mostly just made my head hurt.

I was mellow now, numb in the way I got when I was dissociating. I sat on the ground, careful to have the ugly, outdated dress underneath me so I wasn’t just ass to ground. I looked at my hands, at the plain, short, pink manicure I got a couple of days ago. There would be a matching pedicure on the toenails of my feet currently tucked under me.

I usually got it like that, and the same thing too. I didn’t have too much time to spend in a nail salon when I had multiple companies to run. Besides, the men in the company would be even more disrespectful to me if I had flowers and shit on my long nails. It was just one less battle I had to fight with them.

Those bastards had cut my breaks, I thought. Fuck them!

I hoped Marcus was getting their ass, taking them for every penny they had and then sending them to jail for life.

Weirdly enough, seeing those nails made me sadder. It was like, basically the last link I had to my real life. I almost wanted to force myself to believe that this was all in my head. I wanted to be in some comfortable, posh hospital room somewhere in a coma, hallucinating all this, but, now more than ever, I knew was real

The cold was real.

The hard ground beneath me was real.

The scratchy dress I sat on was real.

Suddenly, I started to cry, choking, silent tears.

I wanted to go home.

“Seraphine?”