A silent torture; you don’t get to cry!

My mind buzzed with thoughts as we drove through the city, making our way back to Sereno Hotels.

Amidst the beautiful night sky, I yearned for a breath of air, desperate to disappear from the Navy’s sight.

I squirmed in my seat, restless and antsy, probably from the alcohol in my system but mostly from the unease I felt with the thickening air engulfing us.

Sensing my discomfort, Enzo wound down the window, letting in the night’s breeze.

“Thank you…” I muttered, and immediately slipped back to my dark reverie, wondering;

"Is he going to pay me? Or hell, I might be fired as the Company’s blogger as well.”

At this point, I realized that I shouldn’t have readily agreed to this deal without first of all securing my job.

I would’ve felt better with his usual blank expression, but the unusual kindness he showed to me was like a slap to the face, a silent torture executed to the very core of my existence.

Enzo made a smooth bend, cutting through the security barrier at the Hotel, seamlessl