Being The Billionaire's Captive

ONE CAN only take so much, until they completely snap. One can only endure so much crap, before they grow completely frustrated.

Raphael indeed was.

He was frustrated not with her, but with her antics. Jumping off a f**king cliff? Had she gone mad?

Every time he remembered the way she launched herself from the edge, his anger boiled in his blood again. On another end, he felt hurt. Was she really that miserable, that she would try to kill herself? Did he misread her attitude all these days? Was she really such a good actress?

His legs shook as he sat on the chair across from her, in her room back at his mansion. They were both still soaked from head to toe, but Raphael didn't make a move to get rid of his wet clothes. He felt glued to her room as he watched her unconscious frame.

After she made that jump, he was only seconds behind her, though she didn't know.

The water had been rougher than she anticipated, and the waves did its best to her before she even got the chance to resurface. By the time Raphael had made it out himself, she was already unconscious, but luckily still alive.

He couldn't forget the immense fear he felt when he couldn't see her anywhere. He remembered how his calls for her got lost in the splash of the waves against the cliff. He still remembered the tears that threatened his eyes when he couldn't find her.

But then he caught a glimpse of her pink dress that only minutes ago, was sailing in the wind as he snapped her pictures. He couldn't comprehend how he managed to beat the strength of the waves to get to her, but luckily he had.

He still remembered how cold and still she felt against his chest when he finally had her in his arms--unmoving and silent.

They were both lucky to be alive, and when he finally managed to find his way back to his car, placed her in the passenger seat and joined her on the other side, he was mad.

How could she?

Would she do something like this again? Is his obsession with her really worth her life if she was willing to take it, just to get away from him?

He didn't think so, and that's what really infuriated him. The very thought of letting her go for good, if that meant saving her life made him angry. He wanted her-- and now he had to consider giving up the one thing he had ever wanted so badly, only because he loved her.

Could he?

The sound of sheet shuffling had him snapping his head in her direction, and his heart soared when he heard her groan. She was finally awake. It had been a long two hours. It felt like two days.

He rose from the chair and slowly walked over to the bed as she began to cough. He held a dust bin to her lips when she began to gag, and he tried to avoid the lightning bolt that ran through his body when she held onto his forearm for support.

He rubbed small circles on her back as she came back to reality fully. He then brought a cup of water to her lips, but she only took a sip and refused the rest.

He sat beside her on the bed as she rubbed her temples. As always, his anger towards her subsided when he heard the sound of her voice, but that didn't mean he still wasn't upset.

"You tried to kill yourself," he stated plainly. No introductions, no questions of caring. He went straight for it.

Tami's eyebrows drew together in confusion as she finally focused her eyes on him.

She tried to recall the incidents that led to her wet clothes, Raphael's cold eyes and her throbbing headache. She remembered leaving the hotel this morning in Puerto Rico. She remembered when they landed, and how she drove his car so ecstatically.

And she remembered...

Her eyes immediately widened in realization when she realized that she wasn't dead. "You-you saved me?" She felt grateful indeed, though a hint of disappointment threatened her when she realized that her plan had failed.

Yet, wasn't there a small part of her that was hoping that it would?

A big part of her crazy decision to jump from that cliff was because she recognized her feelings for Raphael, and grew scared about how she would proceed with them. She wanted to escape so she wouldn't eventually bend to what he had asked for from the very first day she woke up in this room.

Her love.

She didn't want to give it to him, but she was without even trying. And that scared her. Now knowing she almost died, she realized that how dumb that idea was.

But the tone of his voice and the fire in his eyes when he answered had her shocked. She didn't realize he had been that upset.

"Of course I save you Tamika!" he growled. "What the f**k did you expect me to do?"

She grew offensive by his tone and his words. "First of all, I wasn't trying to kill myself-"

"Then what did you want, Tami? Huh? You trick me into believing you actually want me to take your picture, jump off a cliff for what?" he cut her off, and she stared at him dumbfounded.

"I-I was..." Yet, she couldn't admit to the crazy plan she had formed in her head. Saying it out loud felt stupider than in her head.

"You just won't stop won't you?" he decided when she couldn't finish her sentence. She then felt defensive. Wasn't he the one who took her in the first place?

"May I remind you, Raphael, that I'm the victim here. I'm sorry for that stunt, but I am not sorry for trying to get away from you." As she said the words, her heart cried the opposite.

Why wouldn't her stupid heart realize that he was a bad guy? Why was it contracting to everything she did or said?

"I'm going to leave because I don't want to say something that I'll regret later," he said as he stood up, his anger a hundred perfect back. "We'll talk later. And you will NOT leave this room until I f**king say so."

She gaped at him. "How dare you speak to me like that!"

"You pushed me Tamika!" he shot back, and she knew he was angry whenever he used her correct name. "Jumping off a freaking cliff! You could've died!"

"That would've been better!" she cried, just wanting to get back at him. His movements quickly halted as he spun on his heels and appeared in front of her in a flash.

The way he spoke to her hurt her feelings. She didn't like or appreciate it. However, the hurt in

his face when the words left her mouth didn't quite make her feel better.

"What?" he growled with a hidden threat in his voice, daring her to repeat it. But despite the fact

that she didn't like the hurt on his still angry face, he was challenging her, and she didn't want to back down from a challenge.

"It would've been better," she gritted out, matching his stare intensely.

Indeed, he felt hurt and the greater fall in his face didn't go unnoticed by her.

"You don't mean that." He tried to convince himself more than her, but he couldn't see behind her brown eyes if she did, because they were so guarded.

"Yes I do, Raphael," she spat, his name dripping from her tongue like venom. "I will be found. And when they do, I will personally watch them put you in a prison cell where you will spend the rest of your life alone." She straightened her back and sketched a scowl on her face that would scare any monster. "You think that pampering me with expensive gifts and locking me away in this humongous house would make me happy?"

This hurt him even more than she or anyone else could ever think, since the words cut way deeper than she even intended them to. Her fiery tongue wasn't letting up, and she no longer tried to tame it. Maybe this was what he really needed for a revelation?

"We were close once, Tami. We can-"

"When we were like eight!" she shouted. "I haven't seen or heard from you since, and you feel like you have some claim on me?"

He didn't appreciate her tone even though he knew it wouldn't have been easy. But somewhere inside his heart he believed that she would submit to him completely, having him in both body and soul. Little did he know that somewhere behind her walls, she wanted the same. But she was too stubborn to show him.

How he longed for her to tell him that she loved him, to have her bear his kids and grow old with. But when he looked at her, what he saw was far from what he longed for. And his only reciprocation for hurt was anger.

He was indeed angry.

Without a word, he marched from her room with balled fists, punching a very distinct hole in her wall before storming out. She gasped in shock at the indent in her white walls which was now painted with the crimson colour of Raphael's blood.

She felt bad. Of course she did.

Tami was never a girl for hate or hateful words, but what other reaction can you give a man who had stolen you from your home, your family and life? And to make it worse, had somehow STILL found his way in her heart?

'That much wasn't his fault, now was it?' her subconscious accused, obviously on her heart's side.

She groaned, hating that despite everything, she couldn't help but imagine the sweet nine year old at summer camp that cut his knee and cried for her help. She had helped him with his knee, and they became summer camp besties.

Tami still remembered the distinct smile on his face when she made his booboo better. And though nobody else knows, it was that very look of gratefulness that made her long to study medicine. She wanted to see that smile on every patient's face when she made them all better, knowing that it was that very first smile that changed her whole world.

It was that very same Raphael that was pulling at her heart from day to day too. She wrote in her log that he had died, but she knew he hadn't. He was in there, because every time he asked for

her compliance, she saw that little Raphael that asked for her help that day.

Her Raphael.

With a sigh, she eyed the hole in the wall as her mind trailed off to him. She should've just gone straight to bed and let them both wallow in their own emotions. But she couldn't shake the fact that she wanted to help his hand.

If not dealt with properly, he could contract an infection. She bit on her lip as she imagined what he was doing in that moment. Was he tending to it properly? Was he even tending to it at all?

She had never been out of her room on her own, and she realized that Raphael was too angry to remember to close her door on the way out. She knew the way to the exit, yet she found herself walking down the hall to his room instead of trying to make a clear run for it.

It was the first time that she has been in his room, and she had a feeling it wouldn't be her last.

She knocked on his door firmly, but it was followed by silence. She took the chance and pushed it open, being met with emptiness.

If she thought her room was big, his was massive. It could've fit hers, her sister's and her parents room in one back home.

It was the regular design for a male's room. Relatively bare walls, boring colours and never moved furniture. Just like hers, she recognized some adjoined doors to his room as well.

Perhaps he was in the bathroom, she thought as she slowly walked to the ensuite bathroom door exactly like hers. Indeed he was in there, sitting on the toilet with his head in his

that looked

hands and blood dripping on his jeans.

As if sensing her presence, Raphael's head quickly shot up and his eyes landed on the beautiful

girl standing in the doorway of his bathroom. His face scrunched up in confusion, since he didn't

understand why she was there. But despite the fact, he was relieved. She was actually in his

room.

That shocked and soothed him at once.

"Show me your hand " she commanded sternly, still wanting to portray her former mood despite

her crying heart.

He was taken aback for a while, but when he remembered that his hand had been bleeding, he thrust it towards her without hesitation.

He watched as she examined it carefully with a slight frown on her face, and his heart welled up

in hope at the thought that she somewhat cared for him-- that she didn't hate him as much as she had suggested. But in attempts to keep her this calm, he simply kept his mouth shut.

"That was stupid of you," she mumbled as she lightly dabbed the area with a wet piece of cloth.

"I'm sorry," he replied carefully, not wanting to startle her. Where had his anger gone towards

her? He wanted to know. But in his mind, this was progress and he didn't want to go back to square one.

She paused, having heard the sincerity in his voice and darted her eyes to him. It did something to her and he could see it. Maybe she was really good at hiding what she really felt? Was that it?

He didn't dare ask though. He only made a mental note to study her better.

Silently, Tami wiped the blood away from his open wound. He was astonished at how gentle she

was, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was this gentle in bed. If her kisses were as soft as her finger tips. If he will ever get to feel all of her on him.

Her hands leaving his snapped him back to reality, and he saw that the blood was all gone.

"I need dressing and a bandage," she said as she opened his cabinet behind the mirror.

He was too invested in watching and dreaming about her to realize that she was going into his

cabinet, and he didn't notice the mistake until it was too late.

"Raphael? What on earth is this?"