Captivation: Want Nothing But You

Captivation Want Nothing But You Chapter 118 by Adolf Dunne

“I don’t think there is a parent out there that doesn’t love their child,” the nurse said to Victor with a smile. “Sir, I think you should go in now.” She turned around and carefully pulled the door closed before she left. “I don’t think there is a parent out there that doesn’t love their child.”

The nurse’s words rang through Victor’s head like a taunt. His eyes darkened, taking on a faraway expression as memories of his childhood resurfaced. He keenly remembered the day his grandmother had come to fetch him from the dilapidated ruins that had been his home and taken him to the Sullivan family’s mansion.

It was the same day the car accident had happened. He’d been so young then, standing barefoot in the corridor of the hospital, outside the operating room. He stood there for half an hour, silent and waiting, until the doctor finally walked out. With a grim expression the doctor said softly, “I am sorry… We tried our best.

Please tell your elders to prepare for your mother’s funeral. Again… I’m sorry for your loss.” That was all the doctor said before he left. Victor didn’t even know how he made his way out of the hospital. He remembered nothing of his journey home, nor the sights and smells around him. It was like his little world had gone dark.

Nothing but the doctor’s words rang inside his head. He hardly remembered stepping into the home where he and his mother had lived together. Through his numb grief, he somehow found her diary, and in it, a phone number. He remembered that his mother had once told him to phone this number if anything ever happened to her.

She’d told him to tell the person her name. He didn’t know who the number belonged to. All he knew was that he had to call someone to handle his mother’s funeral. She couldn’t stay in the morgue. He’d been in there once and it had been so very cold… He knew how much his mother hated the cold. He knew she wouldn’t want to stay in there.

voice on the other end belonged to an elderly woman. “Hello, who’s speaking?” The voice was soft and gentle, soothing in a

tears finally sprung to his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. He cried so hard that the tears dripped off his jaw and onto the diary, blurring the phone number that had

phone tightly, trying to keep the quiver out his voice as he said his mother’s name and then everything else.

you right now?” the woman said in a voice that sounded ever so slightly excited, but Victor could tell she was crying. Victor’s little hand curled on the

onto the paper so tightly that his knuckles went white, making it look as though it had taken all his strength to speak. “My mother,” he choked on his words as he glanced down at photo in the diary. It was of him and his mother. They were standing in front of

a loud bang from the other end of the phone. The woman was silent for a while before she said in a trembling voice, “Child, where are you?” He gave the

and put it down without disconnecting the call. He didn’t have to wait long until there was a knock at the door. He waited until a woman entered, and he knew immediately that this was the owner of the voice. She

instantly, tears glittered in her eyes. She came forward and put her hands on his slim, small shoulders. Then the tears leaked out the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks. “You must

only just managed to stop her tears, but at the mention of his name, she started crying again. “Sullivan? I thought she hated him so much

you’re older. Now is not the time.” Victor looked at the ground and said nothing. His little face remained cold and expressionless. For a child of seven years old, he was remarkably quiet and calm after just losing his mother, which was strange “Victor,” the woman said softly and bent down so she was eye-level

was purse his lips, but that was as much reaction as he gave her. “It’s alright. Everything is going to be fine,” the woman said when he gave no reaction. “You just take your time. I’m not going to force you to talk. I’ll wait until you’re comfortable.” She

greeting came in unison from a dozen men dressed in black. They were waiting outside the door, smiling pleasantly. Just past them, Victor could see six black Bentleys parked in a tidy row along the side of the road. Carolyn, Victor’s grandmother, looked down at him worriedly when the men greeted him so