CHAPTER 101: Conversations in the Darkness

CHAPTER 101: Conversations in the Darkness

The Enid Corp bar was practically empty. Only a few warm lights illuminated the bottles lined up behind the counter and the polished wooden tables. It wasn't a place open to the public, but a space reserved solely for the corporation's top executives, a silent refuge where the world seemed to stop.

Fénix was sitting on one of the stools, his arm in a sling. In front of him, a glass of ice water was barely sweating on the counter. He looked tired, his gaze lost in the reflection of the liquid, his breathing heavy, as if even being there cost him energy.

The door opened softly, and Enid entered. Her confident footsteps echoed in the emptiness of the bar. Upon seeing him, a gentle smile curved her lips, though her eyes showed more concern than joy.

"Well, I thought I'd find you with something stronger in your hand," she commented as she approached, trying to break the tension.

Fénix barely looked up.
"Don't feel like it... water is enough."

Enid sat beside him, leaning one elbow on the bar to look at him closely.
"You're very quiet."

He sighed, his voice hoarse, sincere.
"My shoulder hurts too much to talk. I could barely sleep last night... every movement is a stab wound."

Enid tilted her head, examining him carefully. There was a pallor in his face and pronounced dark circles that evidenced what he was saying.
"I know," she said in an almost maternal tone. "You're pale, Fénix. And those dark circles... you look like death warmed over."

He sketched a bitter half-smile.
"Well, it wouldn't be the first time I've been mistaken for that."

Enid rolled her eyes softly, though she couldn't hide the worry in her gaze.
"You should be resting, not sitting here as if nothing's wrong."

"I can't rest," he replied, bluntly. "Every time I close my eyes, the pain wakes me up. And when it's not my shoulder, it's the images of everything that happened..."

Enid watched him in silence for a few seconds, weighing every word. Then, she placed her hand on the bar, very close to his, without touching him yet.
"You're strong, but you're not made of iron. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you'll end up breaking completely."

Fénix turned his face towards her, his eyes tired but still firm.
"Maybe I'm already broken."

There was a moment of silence, almost uncomfortable. Enid held his gaze, as if trying to pierce through the shell of bitterness he was putting up.

"Don't say that," she replied finally, softly yet firmly. "Not while I'm here."

Enid fell silent for a few more seconds, observing Fénix with a disquieting calm. Then, a different, sharper smile formed on her lips. A light, almost mocking laugh escaped her throat.

"You know what you look like right now?" she said with a strange glint in her eyes.

Fénix arched an eyebrow, tired.
"Enlighten me."

Enid leaned toward him, her voice becoming lower, almost intimate.
"Like a dog."

He frowned, uncomfortable.
"A dog?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "Always faithful, always returning to its master even if it's hurt, even if it's ignored. You stay by my side even when you're in pieces… That's what a dog does."

Fénix clenched his jaw and took a sip of water to buy time, but the annoyance was evident in his expression.
"I'm not a dog, Enid."

"Of course you are," she said, smiling twistedly as she looked him up and down. "You're my dog. The one who follows me, who obeys me, who stays even when he should run away."

He set the glass down on the bar with a sharp tap, fixing his gaze on her.
"Stop calling me that."

Enid didn't flinch.
"You deny it, but you know it as well as I do. And you know what?" She brought her face even closer to his, her smile widening. "I love having you like this, so loyal, so mine."

Fénix took a deep breath, struggling between fatigue and contained rage.
"I don't belong to anyone, Enid."

She tilted her head, as if she had just heard a very funny joke.
"Of course you do… even if you haven't accepted it yet."

Enid looked at him for another moment, and then let out a feigned sigh, as if finally giving up.
"Alright, Fénix. You win," she said in a soft, almost playful tone, erasing the hardness from her previous gaze. "But tell me... how about we drop this and go rest? We both had a heavy morning."

Fénix frowned, still with some distrust.
"Rest?"

"Yes," Enid replied with a calm smile. "Just that. No arguments, no orders... Just you and me."

Before he could object, Enid took his hand firmly, intertwining her fingers with his, and pulled him gently toward the exit of the bar.
"Let's go."

"Enid, you don't have to..." he tried to say, but she interrupted by pulling a little harder.

"Shhh, it's already decided." Her tone was half sweet, half imperative.

Walking together down the carpeted hallway, Enid led him to the private elevator and, after a short ride, they arrived at the highest area of the building. There, she opened the door to her room.

The contrast was immediate. The room was spacious, elegant, with large windows showing the city of Berlin illuminated in the distance. A large leather armchair in front of a glass coffee table, bookshelves of dark wood lining the walls, and in the back, an enormous, perfectly made bed that dominated the room. Every detail reflected power and exclusivity: it was, after all, the CEO's room.

Enid turned to him, still holding his hand.
"Welcome to my sanctuary, Fénix." Her smile was ambiguous again, both tender and possessive. "Now, I want you to rest... with me."

Fénix scanned the place with his gaze and then returned to her, hesitating.
"You always get your way, don't you?"

Enid let out a low laugh and pushed him gently inside.
"Exactly."