Chapter 60: Chapter 60

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What would be the extreme anguish word for having feelings?

Is there any word that exists in the world for feeling like ice in a tempted forest?

I was standing with dignity, lurking my eyes everywhere I could land my vision.

He was gone.

Somewhere maybe out from this world. Out because what he would be doing if he had to stand here?

He has gone to attend his significant call which he cannot reject in any circumstances.

What about Me Blake Jensen?

All the paparazzi have everything about his life as an open mirror but the mirror always hides the truth. And I am keen to know what he is hiding.

This cannot be as simple as it looks. No, it is not.

What is he hiding?

If he considers himself A powerful billionaire then why he was anxious when Sophia arrived here.

Is Sophia his girlfriend, or more than that?

What if they are married?

What if they have known each other since childhood and they got married in a secret private wedding which the world doesn't know about and now he just wants to get rid of her.

But is it possible?

Is Mr blake Jensen is feasible to do something appropriate according to his status and gender.

And what about Mr John steward?

What in between them?

If he considers himself everyone's master then why he was reluctant to attend a call when every important person is here from his business life.

The way he was walking, the way his eyes were stern, they were his pupils were mocking, the way he was anxious made me clear that he is not what he shows.

And I have to find out who is he in reality?

I stood by the wall and saw all the people who were present in a well-behaved manner.

If queen Victoria come to see the state of this hotel she would be ashamed to admit that the hotel belongs to London city.

And I am not saying anything quite obvious regarding the establishment and furnished works. Instead, I am admiring the population which is busy ting their work done as soon as possible.

Nobody wants to live in the moment. Everybody wants to be a robot to exhaust in whole life.

"Ms Brooke, this is for you!" A waiter came to hand me a letter.

Why on earth anybody is writing a letter when we are in the age of technology.

I muttered thank you to the waiter and tore apart the envelope to read aloud what was written on the piece of paper inside it.

"Meet me on the first floor," it written in nicely scrambled words. The ink was blue making my heartbeat even more furiously than at other times.

"Why on earth I would get a letter?"

But then I reckon to understand... What if Mr Jensen sent me this letter?

What if he wants to converse something with me?

What if he wants to reveal what is he up to? And why did Sophia come here?

What if he wants to reveal the true indications of his association with Mr John steward?

And more than that what if he is going to disclose his formal relationship with his father.

And what about his mother?

I have never thought neither I have heard a word from his mouth about his mother.

Is she alive or dead?

Where does she live?

And why was the real Mr Jensen was so furious with his son?

There were so many erupted questions in my mind that cannot resist them any longer.

But to find out I have to go to the first floor to clear all of my doubts and reveal his true identity.

I regained my composer, took a breath longer than before and put a step forward to where the elevator was.

However, in the process of striding in smaller steps, I got collided with someone whose face was not visible to me.

The man was in dark clothes, his eyes were dangerous as they have been burning from fire.

His face was not visible to me because everywhere was vague to look.  The theme of spotlight leaving all the area in dark was running still.

He didn't let me fall. His strong arms and broad shoulders didn't let me slip.

His one hand was around my waist and then in a split second, he whispered by name closely, "Ashely,"  so closely that it was only audible to me.

Before I could do something to stop my panting, to understand who was the man, to know who is he to call me by my name perfectly rolling on his tongue as he has been practising this for too long.

The room became bright again and the man was no longer to be found.

What was that?

Was I hallucinating?

Or a person in his living state was there to save me from falling.

There was no sign, no clue of his existence then was it all my imagination?

And why he specifically chose to call me by my name when he should have acknowledged me as Ms Brooke the way every gentleman was doing here.

Something is very suspicious here.

My mind went to Mr Jensen again.

Was it Mr Jensen who came to stop me from falling?

But how could that be possible?

I saw him getting outside to attend the call as he cannot accept here with this enormous chaos.

Maybe I am overthinking as always. And I need to hurry up soon to reach the first floor to find out everything.

I went near to the elevator ignoring all the suspicious glances at me because of the absence of Mr Jensen.

Why does this society give so much significance to others people's life?

I glared hard at all of them so that they could know they have to mind their own business.

And nothing could stop me from doing what I want to do at least for now!

I hurried and stepped my foot into the elevator to press the button which would land me on the first floor.

I don't know why but my mind was getting back to the man who was there behind me when I was trying to find a washroom. His looks were suspicious but his eyes felt familiar to me.

And I don't understand how could I run across someone familiar to me in the city of London among these rich high-class business tycoons of the world.

Anyways, I waited and waited then finally I realised I have been able to reach my destination.

Ding dang

A sound announced to me that it is time to let go and look forwards to finding all your questions.

The floor was empty there was no one in my vision to look around.

Maybe I need to explore more to find the person who sent me the letter to greet him here.

Or what if the person is her?

What if the person is a woman?

What if the person is Sophia?

And she has invited me here to get revenge to murder me so that she can live her life peacefully.

Maybe she has planned this all along right the way when I insulted her.

What if she and Mr Jensen has teamed up against me?

What if this all is a high blunder of my living existence.

Then I saw the same painting which was hung on the wall was still missing.

Has anybody stolen it? Is this hotel is occupied by thieves?

"Hello? Is anybody here?" I squinted my eyes. It has no light.

The place was dark, dark enough to let me believe that ghosts still exist and there can be a witch running down on me.

I repeated the same question but wasn't able to find any answers.

I think I should go from here. So I started walking in the direction of the elevator again but stopped in the middle when I heard footsteps crossing near to me.

"Wait!" Came a loud endangering voice. Which was telling me it belongs to a muscular personality.

I stopped. My breathing got quipped again.

I was panting like a jaguar. I was scared and ready to faint on the floor if I find out that I am occupied by a ghost's presence.

"We need to talk!" I moved my head to look at the person who sent me the letter.

But found no rare vision to recognise. The man was tall, almost 6 feet. He was wearing a black suit. And he has a mask on his face.

What the hell is this?

Wasn't he suppose you reveal his identity if he wants to have an exposure of conversing with me.

"Who are you?" I glanced at him from head to toe. Taking his figure all in one cope.

The smattering heights of my anxiousness was telling me I need to run away from here.

My arms were sweaty, my limbs were sweating too from horror and I was barely able to whisper anything to anyone.

The man stepped forward.

I took a step back.

"You should stay away from Blake Jensen!"

What?

"Listen, Sophia if you wanted to have closure between us. You should have come here in your real identity!" I tried to say as much louder as I can but it barely came as a whisper.

Making me regret the moment of coming here in the first place.

And in the reply, I only heard laughter.  Dangerous yet captivating laughter was enough to shriek me in horror.