A Breakfast, A Bath, and Another Problem

SOFIA's POV

A deep, perfect kind of warmth wrapped around me as I drifted between sleep and waking. For the first time in my 24 years of existence, my body felt light, my mind clear, like I had finally, finally gotten the kind of rest people always raved about.

Unfortunately, all the hairs on my body automatically stood up the second I realized I wasn't on my bed!

Panic settled in as my eyes snapped open. At first, I had no idea where I was. Plush white sheets, a thick comforter, and a floral scent in the air. My fingers curled around the silky fabric, my pulse picking up as flashes of last night pieced themselves together. I groaned as I buried my face in my hands. Right. The landlord. His slimy, grabbing hands. The rage that burned through me. My fists connected with his gut, his ribs, his face.

And then, that man, Rios Alcaraz.

The memory of him standing over me hit me like a splash of cold water. I sat up, the sheets pooling at my waist, and glanced around. Still, no sign of him. My stomach twisted. I thought about the things that I failed to bring with me. My bag, my clothes, my meager savings—everything was still back at that disgusting apartment.

Another groan left my lips as I raked a hand through my hair. Great. Just great. Even after a perfect night's sleep, I still couldn't escape the mess of my life.

A knock on the door startled my reverie. For a moment, I debated ignoring it. But then I sighed, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and padded toward the door. Cracking it open, I found myself face-to-face with an older man in a sharp black suit with his lips refusing to smile at all. He was the butler last night.

"Miss Sofia," he greeted, dipping his head slightly. "Mr. Alcaraz has arranged for your breakfast."

My gaze flicked to the cart beside him and saw something covered with silver platters.

"H-he also gave those?" I asked, pointing at the vase of fresh flowers. My stomach clenched, an annoying mix of hunger and suspicion twisting inside me.

"Yes, Miss. And a note," the butler added, holding out a small envelope.

I hesitated before plucking it from his gloved hand. "Why would he do this?" I asked, confused. However, the butler did not respond and proceeded to wheel the cart in.

The paper was thick and smelled expensive, and when I slid my finger under the seal, I found a simple message in smooth, slanted handwriting: "I'll see you later. Eat well. —R.E.A.

I exhaled sharply through my nose, shaking my head. The man had a way of making demands sound like favors. Still, I was starving. The moment the butler left, I lifted the lids, and—holy shit. Flaky pastries, fresh fruit, and a steaming omelet that smelled like heaven greeted me. The rich, buttery scent filled the room, making my mouth water.

My fingers twitched. I shouldn't. I should be mad, should be figuring out a way to get my things, should—

I grabbed a croissant and bit in. A groan slipped out before I could stop it. The buttery perfection was all my grumbling stomach needed. Damn him.

I was just munching with fervor when another knock disturbed my indulgence. I let out a sharp breath. Seriously? This time, Miss Clare stood outside the door. "Good morning, Miss Sofia," she said briskly. "I was asked to bring you this."

She handed me a neatly wrapped package. I tore it open, revealing a pale blue sundress, light and airy, along with a pair of walking sandals.

"Mr. Rios would like you to get dressed," she continued. "Take your time. I'll wait. Just call reception once you're ready to be fetched."

I bristled. Would like? Not suggests? Not if you feel like it? I exhaled through my nose, biting back the urge to argue. Instead, I ran my fingers over the fabric. It was soft and obviously made of high-quality material. Even the sandals were practical but still elegant.

"Where exactly am I going?" I asked, lifting a brow.

Miss Clair only smiled. "You'll see."

Miss Clair left me with a professional smile and I finished my breakfast slowly, trying to relish the good taste of the food. Despite the confusion, I decided to just receive everything with gratitude, especially since I did not ask for these from him. He gave them to me out of his willingness or whatever.

Still, I could not erase the nagging feeling that Rios was up to something. And I needed to brace myself for that. Shaking my pessimism, I headed to the bathroom.

I realized that the bathroom alone was bigger than my entire apartment. The realization almost made me drop my jaw in excitement. I admired the marble counters, the gold fixtures, and the plush towels stacked neatly beside toiletries that probably cost more than my rent. I then trailed my fingers over one of the glass bottles, reading the label. French. Of course. A laugh bubbled up in my throat. This was ridiculous. I was ridiculous for being so impressed. But then my eyes landed on the deep and sleek bathtub. The kind of tub that we see on TV, where wealthy ladies lit candles around and soaked in for hours. I glanced at the door. Miss Clair did say she'll wait. No one was rushing me and definitely no one was watching. So… screw it!

By the time I emerged, Miss Clair gave a small nod of approval. "Perfect."

I rolled my shoulders, fighting the strange sense of ease settling over me. "So… what do I do now?" I timidly asked.

"You're now free to roam the hotel, Miss Sofia. Enjoy yourself."

"Aren't you going to accompany me?"

"I will, for a while. I still have to go back to my post, Miss," she politely responded. "You know, you are very lucky. I've seen a lot of girls going in and out of this hotel—all accompanied by Mr. Alcaraz, but all of them were dismissed a few hours after sharing the room with him."

Immediately, embarrassment settled in and the need to defend myself started to consume me. "If you think I'm like those women, you're mistaken."

"Oh, I know that, Miss Sofia," Miss Clair frantically said. "A cleaning lady even said that Mr. Alcaraz spent the night sleeping on the couch while… you sleep on the bed."

He did what?!

"I-I did not know he was there."

"And last night, that was the first time we heard him being goofy," Miss Clair added.

"Why? Was he always that serious?"

Miss Clair leaned in, as if comfortability had finally settled in her system. "He's ruthless. He toys with women and he never smiles."

We gossiped for a while before Clair returned to her post. I wasn't sure how to react to what she told me but I couldn't help but feel elated. Somehow, Rios suddenly seemed intriguing again.

Feeling a little confident with myself, I stepped out, wandering through the hallways. Everything around here just smelled like flowers and money. For a while, I let myself be distracted. Until—

"Excuse you!"

A voice exclaimed, followed by a sharp gasp. I just slammed into someone. I blinked, stepping back. The woman before me was tall, blonde, and dressed like she had walked straight out of a designer catalog. Sharp eyes raked over me with eyes filled with contempt.

"You should really watch where you're going," she drawled, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I sincerely said, knowing very well that I was at fault.

Her lips pursed. "Do you know who I am?"

"No, I don't. And I am really sorry about—"

She scoffed. "Name's Beatrice Sandoval," she said, tilting her chin up. "Remember it."

I didn't like the way she handled the situation. I apologized and was genuine about it. What else did she want me to do? "Not sure I want to," I whispered to myself, and yet, she still heard me.

Her eyes darkened. "You'll regret that."

And just like that, she turned on her heel and strode off, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

I let out a slow breath. Great. So now I would have another problem.