The dim light of the small room flickered as Elisa searched frantically for her clothes. Turning to Miguel, she exclaimed with a mix of frustration and confusion,
"Where the hell have you placed my clothes, Miguel?"
Miguel chuckled softly, eyes dancing with mischief. "Your clothes were spoiled, so I took them off," he replied nonchalantly.
Elisa's eyes widened at his words.
"You b*stard! How dare you undress me!" Her voice sliced through the air like a cold winter wind.
"It's not what you're thinking. I couldn't let you stay in those smelly rags," Miguel defended himself, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Don't worry, I closed my eyes. I didn't see anything, I swear."
Miguel paused, reflecting on her words. " Is this how lowly she thinks of me? Did she truly believe l would take advantage of her while she was vulnerable and drugged?" He thought.
"Give me your address," he said finally. "I will deliver your clothes later."
