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Entwined To Be With The Ruthless Billionaire

"Wait!” She nearly screamed. “Let me make a phone call. I’m allowed to make a phone call, aren’t I?” The officer’s smile widened, "And who, if I might ask, do you intend to call?” She asked, although she had a good guess who that person was. “My uncle. William Taylor.” Emma replied with a smirk. This was the first time she would ever boldly and somewhat proudly mentioned her wicked uncle’s name. The female officer’s face slowly opened wide in a smile. Then, she began to chuckle and every police officer in the station began to laugh as well. Within seconds, the whole station was reverberating in laughter. “Wh… what is… what is going on? What is so funny?” There could not have been a more confusing expression on Emma’s face. She felt stupid and left out at the same time. What was happening? “Oh baby girl.” One of the officers finally responded. “Just an hour before you woke up, your uncle William Taylor was here to file a theft and kidnap case against you. Apparently, you were being a spoiled, rebellious brat and were trying to prove a point. You stole a car, invited poor Caroline out, got drunk together and ran into the pole that turned the sole heir of a multi-billion company into mashed potatoes.” Emma’s mouth opened wide. She closed it and swallowed hard. She sighed as tears streamed down her face. In the wake of that tragedy, Emma Taylor's life takes a dark turn when her uncle's betrayal lands her in the clutches of billionaire Daniel Stone. With her father's company hanging by a thread, Emma becomes a pawn in Daniel's game of power and deception. Was this going to be the end of her?

ogunsuyigrace87 · Urban
Not enough ratings
51 Chs

Tending To Him

Emma woke up at midnight. Her head ached badly. She groaned and sat up. 

Just as she finally managed to sit up, the memories of the day came rushing back. That horror. Her heartbeat rose immediately. She immediately looked around her and saw that she was back in her room. Still filled with anxiety, she scanned everywhere thoroughly. Only when she saw that it was empty, safe for a lightly snoring roommate, did she finally begin to relax. Her heart rate lowered and she sighed in relief.

She looked at her roommate. The memories of the relief she felt when she saw him open the door of the kitchen came rushing back to her. She was grateful she had someone to rely on in this unreliable place. She could not even begin to fathom what would have happened had he not barge in like that

"He snores?" She chuckled. She was not sure why she found it amusing. Something about him just never struck her as the snoring type.

She had gotten used to him over time. One very commendable thing was how he never harassed her. He mostly stayed to himself. Frequently, he would sit cross-legged on the bed or on the floor beside it, and murmur inaudible words to himself while rocking back and forth. He had occasional night outbursts where everything on his side of the room, which included a chair, sink and table full of books and slippers, would be turned upside-down, ripped apart, broken or crushed. Only his bed, he never touched.

At first, it made her very uneasy.

"He is a mad man." She would say.

Later on, starting around five days ago, she had revisited her assumptions and conclusions about him and noticed the similarities between him and the autistic child she had observed at the hospital many years back.

They both hurt themselves and their things a lot. They both burst out for seemingly no reason. And they were essentially anti-social.

So, she had concluded that he was probably autistic.

Right now, as she watched him, she realized this was the first time she had actually caught him sleeping. 

"He looks very different when asleep." She muttered. "Good looking, even."

She stood up from her bed and for the first time ever, stepped into his half of the room. She walked up to his bedside to take an even closer look, confident that he would not suddenly wake up.

"He's wearing a shirt. Does he sleep with a shirt on?" She wondered. Usually, he only wore his shirt in the morning when he wanted to go eat. After which, he would go back to his room, pull the shirt off and go back out, bare-chested.

"He gets a lot of freedom here." She cocked her head and crossed her arms, looking at his face. "Who are you? Why do you get to do as you wish here?"

At that moment, Danny groaned in his sleep, making Emma wonder if he was hurt.

She looked him over and only then did she notice the slight blackness and swollenness of his left eye.

"He fought?" She asked. She had a slight vision of being carried by him but it could have just been a dream. "You saved me?" 

A button was attached to Danny's bed. She had seen him press it only once and when he did, a jailer had come around and they had spoken together in whispers for quite some time.

She looked at it for a long time, wondering if she should press it or not. But being pressed for time and afraid, he might get worse as the night wore on, she sighed and pressed it.

One of the prison guards arrived in less than five minutes. His deep scowl worn on his face like a mask. His shift was over, but he was still sent to respond to 'him'. He looked at the room in anger, assuming they had woken him up to ask for a condom. He did not understand why a female was brought into a male facility and why she had to be kept in 'his' room of all places. He hated his guts already.

"What do you want?" He asked, resisting the urge to just walk away 

"Um.. please, can you get us a towel and hot water?" Emma requested.

"Why?" The prison guard asked.

"He is hurt." She said.

"He is always hurting." The prison guard said and walked away.

"Wait.. wait.." Emma tried to call him back.

"Let him know that you have just wasted one of his calls." She heard the prison guard's fading voice say.