Heartless

MOON'S POV

I breathed a long sigh of relief when the stubborn stain on the counter was finally gone after five minutes of rough scrubbing. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand and took another breath.

"Moon," came in a familiar voice just seconds later.

My slightly better mood took a turn for the worse, knowing what was to come. I wanted to pretend I didn't hear anything, but I knew I couldn't ignore it and had to face him eventually. If the truth is to be told, the sooner I deal with this problem, the better.

Whipping, I came face to face with Patrick.

His eyes were already on me, more like my body. Eagerly and shamelessly dragging his eyes and exploring every inch of my body, it sent me a bad shiver down my body. The level of unease this man's gaze probed at me was inexplicable.

After examining my body with his beady eyes for a while, his eyes moved to my face. I tried to hold up the front and hide my discomfort but my attempts came in vain.

When he realized that his gaze was affecting me, a smirk appeared on his lips before he licked his lips. I almost threw up in disgust, and I'm not exaggerating. This is not the first time he looks at me with this sinful intent, but I doubt that I will ever get used to such a look, as if I were a piece of meat.

As much as my palm itches to wipe his arrogance off his face, but I really don't want any problem. Who am I kidding? I have never physically harmed anyone. I don't think I have it in me.

Composing my demeanor, I did what felt was the best option at the time. Ignoring his existence, I turned around and began to pack my things in my handbag since my shift here was over.

"Let's go for dinner."

He asked what I had already anticipated, since this is not the first time he asked me for dinner.

"Look, Patrick, I'm not interested," I curtly said, turning him down without casting a look at him.

My words were left ignored, as if I never said anything when he spoke like a two-year- old throwing a tantrum.

"Moon, don't be like that,"

As I had done packing once again, I found myself looking at him. Patrick's hand came to lie on my shoulder but before his hand could make contact with my body, I pushed myself away from him on instinct.

Anger flashed in his gray eyes at my abrupt refusal. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at this man. This man doesn't take no for an answer. No matter how many times I refuse, he keeps asking me shamelessly, unperturbed. Patrick also didn't know how to deal with rejection.

"Don't be a b*tch Moon,"

Unfortunately, it is not the first time that Patrick has addressed me with such beautiful words. I often get called all the typical names, like any woman who hurts the false pride of men like Patrick.

I wanted to address him with the same words he addressed me but I couldn't. Unfortunately, he is my boss and being rude to him is something I absolutely cannot afford at this stage in my life. As painful as tolerating Patrick. The pay is considerably higher for a waitress.

With the minimal education I have, this is the best job I've gotten so far. Everywhere I went for work I was given ultimatums and it was something I was against. Why would I look for a job if I have to compromise in the end?

When I first met Patrick, he was very respectful. I didn't get the usual longing eyes from him, and like I said, the salary was also great compared to what I was earning, so I didn't give it a second thought, especially when it became difficult to make ends meet.

It didn't take long for Patrick to show his true colors. The changes were so obvious I couldn't act oblivious to them for a long time, nor could I give him the benefit of the doubt. He wasn't even the person I knew, but then I have always lacked common sense and made unwise judgments.

If I'm being honest, I could see myself falling in love with him if he was who I really thought he was. Patrick is quite a handsome man with a well-established business. He obviously works hard too, but his evil intentions for me ruined it all.

"Please leave me alone," I pleaded, combing strands of loose hair behind the ears with my fingers.

Patrick's gaze remained riveted on me for a good minute after I allowed myself to say those words. Then he straightened up a bit. He ran his fingers over his trimmed chin, still looking at me.

"You're very proud of yourself, aren't you? You should be grateful that I gave you a job and I want to marry you, unlike other men who want their c*ck inside you," his words seethed with anger.

An overflowing irritation and anger course through my body hearing such rude and vulgar words. How dare you act like I'm a freeloader when I work for the money he pays me?

I am usually calm and composed by nature, but I can also be very short-tempered. At the moment, I had lost my serenity. Before I could give him peace of mind. The ringing of the telephone interrupted me.

In a state of rage, it took me a few seconds to realize it was my phone that was ringing. Pulling out my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, I looked at the screen. My brows knitted together seeing the caller was unknown. It's very rare for me to get a call from an unknown number.

Curiosity aside, I swipe the screen to the right and place the phone in my left ear.

"Hello," I was the first one to greet.

An eerie terror coursed through my body. My heart and skull were pounding as I listened to the words being spoken at the other end of the phone.

I felt my limp weaken and the phone abruptly slipped out of my hand, falling straight to the floor with a loud thud. I'm pretty sure my screen is cracked and looks like a tree branch. I also didn't have enough money to buy another phone, but that was the least of my worries right now.

"What happened?" I heard Patrick's faint voice but I was in the state of hyperventilating to answer anyone.

Without saying a word, I turned and ran away from there.

"Rose Brown,"

"She is in room number 506."

As soon as the receptionist answered, I found myself rushing towards the stairs as if my life depended on it. I didn't even look for an elevator in the rush. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally managed to get to the fifth floor. All sweaty and huffing.

A few big steps. I was standing right in front of 506. Just seconds ago, I was in a hurry to be here with mother but suddenly I found myself hesitating to go inside. I was afraid inside I would see something I wouldn't like.

I pressed my eyes together and took a long breath, trying to calm my nerves before grabbing the handle of the door and slightly pushing it open.

My heart broke seeing her so weak and fragile. Almost looking lifeless, she laid on the hospital bed, the bottom half covered with a blanket, as light as a sheet and a drainage tube was inserted into her left wrist that was hooked up to an IV line.

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