“All the members get their number tattooed on their wrist.” “W...When-” I took a deep breath. I’m Not sure if I could handle all this information that kept throwing at my face. “-When did this happen?” The delicious fried rice was long forgotten; it took me two seconds to lose my appetite. “When you were in a coma. Your hair was cut as well. You used to have long hair.” All of this while I was in a coma? “How did you-” “That’s how things work in the S.O. Even I have that.” He exposed his wrist. ‘020’

“And Elliot?” “Him too.” He stated. I looked back at my tattooed wrist. “Is there anything else you’re hiding from me?” “No.” He continued eating like we had a normal conversation. “If you have any arguments feel free to yell at Boss. He will be back at nine. From now on, you’ll be having dinner with him at nine O’clock to discuss what you learn daily and...talk. Now please eat your food.” I did what he told me because I actually I don’t know what else to say.

Instead of going back to my chamber, I went to the study room. It’s starting to become my favorite place to be. “I guess I’m going to stay here until nine.” It’s scary how many books this room has. Too many poets in one room. I took one randomly. “two hundred pages, huh.”

From two to eight. Hours of nonstop reading on the same chair next to the fireplace. I decided to take the book with me. I can read it multiple times without feeling bored.

I went back to my room, took another shower, then changed into only a white dress shirt, black trousers, and black heels; I rolled my wrist cuffs to my elbows. I Ran my fingers through my hair, wondering how it would look if it was long. I sat on the edge of my bed, touching my inked wrist with the tips of my fingers, it didn’t itch or hurt. Okay. Let’s see what happened today: I got a new memory. I started learning how to punch, and John told me about Elliot’s past. If only I had a journal or paper to write this down. I searched all the drawers. Nothing. “Of course.” with a disappointed sigh, I exited the bedroom.

While I was on my way to the dining room, I found Ashley on her way up the stairs. “Oh.” squeaked. “Hello,” I said awkwardly. “I was about to call you. Mr. Andrews just arrived. He is taking a shower at the moment.”

I can assume she’s the shy type by the softness of her voice. “Arrived? I didn’t hear anything.” “Um... I guess you were focused on something,” she said, smiling. “Right.” I bit my lower lip; I WAS focusing on something. “Alright then-” “Is there a problem, Ashley?” How many times I’m going to get startled by his voice? Ashley, on the other hand, almost let out a scream. “N-Nothing, sir, Excuse me.” She said, bowing her head while going back to (Probably) the kitchen. I looked at where the voice came from. There he is again, One hand on the banister, the other in his pocket.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

A black V_Neck sweater, pants that match the color, and polished shoes. It felt like we were on a date. I cleared my throat, moving my legs toward my usual chair. The silence was killing me. Should I say Hi? Good evening? Or keep my mouth shut? He ends up sitting on his chair instead of gawking at me from afar. “John said you’re learning quite well.” “I guess.” He hummed; I don’t know if it was for agreement or something else. Dinner came with its captivating aroma. Steak, again. “Do you train here?” I guess my mission is to ask questions, not eat. “Yes, I have a gym here; I only train on the weekends.” “Care to tell me about this?” I showed him my wrist, but he didn’t seem to care. ” I thought John gave you a basic explanation of it.” “He did. But you’re the one who made me a part of this.” He sighed, taking another piece of steamed potato in his mouth. “Who told you I want this?” I asked him. My tune changed from calm to angry. He finally put his fork down, looking at me. Face to face. “Didn’t you hear what I told you yesterday, Emily? You. Lost. All.Your. Memories. You don’t know who you are, where you live, who your parents are; do you want me to let you wander around Paris alone because you “don’t” want this.” He’s pissed, really pissed. “But-” “The leader of those fuckers who kidnapped you is still alive. 1. he thinks you killed his men. 2. he thinks you’re going to report him to the police. That’s why I am hiding you here. I made you a part of the S.O. so you can fight to protect yourself. People like him must be killed. That’s our job. Innocent women keep suffering because of him. If my men didn’t get there fast, I can’t imagine what they would’ve done to you.” Frozen. Stone. Rock. That’s the only way I could describe what I was feeling. Bricks kept falling down over me today. The flashback. The tattoo. This. Elliot rubbed his unshaven cheek. “I’m sorry. But that’s the truth,” he said in a less angry tone. “I want you to kill him. That’s why I assigned John to be your personal trainer. I want you both to take him down. Then you can go back to your normal life.” “You...You don’t know me.” The four words came out of my mouth like poison. I felt something sliding on my cheek. Tears. Actual tears. “I know enough.” He whispered. How funny, for a scary guy, I can see comfort in his eyes.