The Slave of Pleasure

Rachel

Walking hand in hand with Vincenzo through the hospital seemed like a simple task, but in reality it was a kind of trial by fire. Every step we took together, side by side, was watched and commented on by everyone around us. The hallway that separated Vincenzo's room from the elevator wasn't that long, but with every curious glance, hidden smile and whisper, it seemed endless.

I could feel the eyes on us both. Some nurses whispered to each other, pointing at us with barely concealed smiles. It seemed like everyone already knew about my lie. "They're engaged," they said with that expression of surprise mixed with admiration. And the worst part was that, apparently, everyone believed it. I saw some cell phone flashes-they were taking pictures of us.

My heart was racing. With each click of a cell phone, my stomach knotted, and I felt my cheeks heat up. How had this all gotten out of control so quickly? I just wanted to see if Vincenzo was okay, not to cause a scene at the hospital and become the center of attention. My nervousness spilled over into my hand, which I gripped tightly on Vincenzo's, almost as if I was seeking some kind of support to get through all of this. He, on the other hand, seemed completely indifferent. He walked with an unshakable confidence, as if the whispers, the looks, and the photos didn't matter at all. He didn't care at all what they were saying. I, on the other hand, felt exposed, as if everyone knew exactly what I was thinking and feeling. The truth was, I didn't know what to do. I had never been in a situation like this before. My instinct was to let go of his hand, shrink away, and disappear, but I knew that would only bring more attention. So I kept walking, squeezing Vincenzo's hand as if it could anchor me to reality. Every time I heard a giggle or a quiet comment, my grip tightened, and Vincenzo, although he didn't say anything, seemed to notice but didn't care.

The most disconcerting thing of all was that he didn't let go of my hand either. He kept the same calm pace, giving no sign that he was bothered by my nervousness. It was as if he was guiding me through that storm of looks and whispers, without caring what anyone else thought or said.

Finally, we reached the elevator. When the doors opened and we stepped inside, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Vincenzo's driver got in right behind us, and the doors closed, blocking out the outside world. Only then did I realize that I was holding Vincenzo's hand so tightly that my fingers began to ache. I quickly let go, a little embarrassed, and looked down at the floor, trying to compose myself.

In the silence of the elevator, my thoughts raced endlessly. What had I done? How had I let things get to this point? Now, apparently, I was "engaged" to a man I barely knew, and the entire hospital seemed to believe it. I took a deep, suffocating breath, trying to expel the pressure that seemed to be squeezing my chest. The whole situation made me feel like I was in a bubble that could burst at any moment. The elevator was spacious, and the air was thick. Vincenzo shook his hand lightly, catching my eye. "What's gotten into you?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "I'm pretty resilient to pain, but you squeezed my hand so hard I almost forgot my ribs were broken." I felt heat rise to my face. "Sorry," I mumbled, almost reflexively. "I... was nervous." There was no other way to describe what I was feeling. The shame, the fear of it all being found out, people talking, taking pictures. It was all too much for me. The driver let out a brief laugh, one of those that you try to hold back but end up escaping before you realize it. Vincenzo stared at him with a seriousness that could freeze the air around us. "Excuse me, sir," the driver said, immediately looking ahead, transforming himself into a human statue, rigid and immobile.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

I rubbed my hands together, trying to warm them, or perhaps trying to calm myself, to organize my thoughts. With each passing second, I felt my anxiety rise. The soft hum of the elevator seemed to echo through my mind, and I tried to focus only on the upward movement, leaving everything else behind.

Suddenly, the elevator stopped halfway, and three people got in: two men and a woman. They were talking to each other in low tones, and I felt their eyes drift to Vincenzo. He smiled discreetly, but it was clear that they recognized him. It was impossible not to notice the slight gleam of admiration in their eyes.

And it was at that exact moment that, without meaning to, I made a strange noise with my mouth - maybe a sob, maybe a held sigh. But it was enough to attract the attention of everyone in the elevator. They all turned to me immediately.. My eyes widened and my heart started beating faster. I wanted to disappear.

Everyone's gaze turned to me except Vincenzo's, it was obvious, since his hand was squeezing my ass, the sound that reverberated in me was a groan of fright, when everyone looked at me I tried to pretend I was coughing, pointing to my throat while forcing an evidently fake cough, the two men who entered the elevator looked back straight ahead immediately after believing that fake cough, but the woman continued to stare at me, closing her eyes and raising her face in the direction of Vincenzo who looked back at her raising his eyebrow as if to say "I didn't do anything" he knew what was happening, smiled at us and looked straight ahead again pretending he also believed I had just coughed. Before we finally reached the ground floor we could already hear a crowd shouting, the sound was accompanied by camera flashes. "I was so nervous up there with all the people talking about us, that even now I can hear the sound of the photos and the comments... It must be all in my head, right?" I asked Vincenzo, smiling. The elevator door opened and a sea of paparazzi was in front of us. "Yeah... it must be all in your head," Vincenzo said.