I stand there quiet, if he has a suspicion then he should fucking work on it.
“Why did you leave?” he asked, his voice calm but sharp enough to cut through the tension. “I was sick of it,” I said, my tone flat. It wasn’t a lie. It had been a game to me, one I played until I got what I wanted. By then, there was no point in staying. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t suspect you.” I shoved my hands into my pockets and rose to my feet, walking closer until I was inches from his face. His words were a challenge, and he knew it. Daring me to act. Testing me. But I wasn’t afraid of him. If I wanted to, I could smash his head against the wall and bury his body right next to his father’s grave. The thought almost made me smile. I’d made him who he was, built him from nothing, and now he had the nerve to stand there and question me like I was some kind of commoner. My fists clenched at my sides, the urge to hit him burning through me. But not yet. Not now. If I killed him here, it would be too soon. Taking him out meant taking down two leaders in a row, and the organization wouldn’t rest until they hunted me down for it. “I don’t need to,” I said finally, my voice calm as I forced myself to relax. He nodded slowly, his curls bouncing slightly before settling back into place. Then he circled me, taking his time as he studied my face, searching for any crack, any hint of guilt or fear. I gave him nothing. My glare was steady, my expression cold. “Fine. I believe you,” he said at last, stepping back and raising his hands in mock surrender. His fingers brushed his neck, a casual gesture that somehow made my skin crawl, like he was toying with me. “Can I have a glass of water?” The request was polite, almost casual, but I felt the weight of it. Felt the resistance in my chest. I didn’t want to do it. Didn’t want to serve him anything. “Are you going to give a brother some water?” he pressed, his voice light but insistent. I almost told him to get it himself. Almost. But the thought of him wandering through my house, snooping where he didn’t belong, stopped me. Instead, I turned on my heel and went to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it from the faucet. When I came back, he was gone. The door was still shut making me wonder why I didn’t hear him leave. I shoot my eyes to the door upstairs to find it slightly open. Shit! I raced up the stairs, my heart hammering in my chest as I shoved the door wide open. There he was. He had her backed into a corner, her body curled up like a wounded animal, trembling, barely able to look at him. His filthy hand gripped her waist, holding her in place, while his other arm leaned against the doorframe, blocking any chance of escape. My vision turned red. I didn’t think, didn’t pause—I was on him before his disgusting tongue could touch her neck. I slammed him into the wall, the force rattling the entire room. He crashed onto the table, scattering papers and glass to the floor, but somehow, he got back to his feet, his eyes blazing with a twisted kind of satisfaction. My blood boiled. How dare he touch her without my permission? “Is this it?” he taunted, his voice venomous. “Is this the reason you left? So you could live out your wild fantasies?” “Shut the fuck up,” I growled, my fists clenching at my sides. “Or maybe,” he continued, undeterred, “you were hoping for a love story, huh? Settle down with her, have kids running around the house. I can’t see that for you—but damn, she is gorgeous.” “I said shut it.” He sneered, circling me like a predator toying with its prey. “You’re forgetting something, Dare. Men like you and me? We don’t get to settle down. We don’t get love. No matter how much you try, it’s not for you.” “Mark!” My voice was a warning, but he ignored it. He leaned closer, each tone dripping with malice. “She’ll never love you. Does she even know who you really are? The things you’ve done—not just the assignments, but the women? If she knew, she wouldn’t stay here for another second.” He paused, a twisted smile spreading across his face as realization dawned. “You kidnapped her,” he said, his voice almost gleeful. “That’s it, isn’t it? You took her.” One more word. One more fucking word, and I’d slit his throat. “She cannot fucking handle you Dare, the things I have seen you do, she can’t fucking handle it. You have dark, twisted fantasy, she looks like you could break if you fucking touch her” The truth hurts just as they say. She was a fragile little thing, her skin was soft as silk, her eyes blue as the ocean, her long black hair that stopped at her waist. But besides being fragile and beautiful, she gave herself to me. She chosed to belong to me, it wasn’t entirely my decision, she made the decision too. Staring at her, she is still pinned to the wall where he left her, I wonder the things he had told her in the few minutes I was behind, her eyes are weary and she looks at me with fear. It is much different from the first time we met, when I gaze into those delicate blue eyes and made the biggest decision of my life. Sparing a witness. Now, she looked at me like I was just another monster. Mark pushed himself off the wall, brushing broken glass from his shoulders. He wasn’t done. His smirk curved into something smug, calculating. He turned back to her,closing up the space between them. “If you come with me, darling,” he began, his tone slick, “I promise I won’t make your life miserable. Unlike him. There’s nothing he can offer you but pain and misery.” He stretched his hand toward her, his audacity dripping from every syllable. That was it. I grabbed him by the collar, yanking him away from her before he could take another step. My grip tightened as my defenses kicked in, and I dragged him toward the window. Without hesitation, I smashed his head through the glass. She screamed behind me, her hands flying to her mouth, but I didn’t turn around. My focus was on him—the bastard bleeding from his head, his arms dangling uselessly out the shattered window. His dazed, blood-smeared face twisted into a weak smile, his eyes glinting with defiance. “Say one more fucking word,” I growled, my voice low and lethal, “and I’ll throw you out this window.” Silence. For once, he understood the gravity of my warning. I yanked him back inside and threw him to the floor. He groaned, clutching at his head, his once-arrogant demeanor crumbling. I loomed over him, rage still pulsing through my veins. “Leave,” I said, my voice cold and final. “And never fucking return.” He looked up at me, his expression shifting—half a promise, half a threat. It wasn’t over, not for him. But I didn’t care. If I saw him again, if he tried to pull this shit one more time, I wouldn’t stop. Next time, I’d kill him. Mark stumbled to his feet and staggered toward the door, leaving a trail of blood behind him. I turned back to her. She still stood against the wall, staring at me like I was the same monster she’d feared minutes ago. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was. I sank into the cushions of the couch, my arms dangling loosely from the armrests as I exhaled, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. The room was quiet, save for my own breathing and the faint creak of the house settling. I forced myself to let go of Mark’s words, to push his poisonous voice out of my mind. Then I heard her footsteps. They echoed softly down the stairs, each step slow. She wasn’t rushing. She wasn’t fleeing. But she wasn’t calm either. I could feel her hesitation, the weight of her thoughts as she moved toward me. For a moment, her steps stopped entirely, lingering in one spot as if she were deciding whether to face me or retreat. My patience wore thin. “Come to me,” I ordered. The pause lingered before she obeyed, finally stepping into the living room. She stopped a few feet in front of me, her posture stiff, her head tilted down. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. But I searched for them anyway, wanting to see those striking blue eyes, to read whatever she wasn’t saying. I rose to my feet. She flinched. The movement was subtle, but I saw it. Felt it. She was scared, and I couldn’t entirely blame her. I knew what Mark had said, the seed of doubt he’d planted in her. But it wasn’t just him. She had seen me. Seen what I could do. “What is it?” I asked, my tone controlled, neither harsh nor gentle. Her silence stretched, but I caught the faint sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, those brilliant blue eyes meeting mine for just a heartbeat before they dimmed again, her lashes lowering as she looked away. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked softly, her voice trembling, her head bowing once more. If only she knew. If only she knew the things I wanted to do to her, the thoughts that burned through my mind whenever I looked at her. She’d run. Scream. Never look back. I bit my lip, stepping toward her. She moved back, instinctively, but I didn’t stop. I closed the distance, step by step, until her back pressed against the wall. The sight of her like this, trapped between me and the unyielding surface, reminded me too much of earlier. Of Mark. But this was different. I leaned down, my head resting lightly against her shoulder, my breath brushing against her neck. Her breathing quickened, shallow and uneven. She was terrified, and I couldn’t blame her. My lips hovered near her ear, so close I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. “Why? Are you scared now that he said something to you?” A subtle flinch comes from her, I guess she doesn’t like me being close to her or Atleast that was what I thought until I felt a pull at the hem of my shirt. The corners of my lips lit up. I shift backwards and raise her chin to stare at me, “Are you forgetting that you gave yourself to me, I can do whatever I want with you. Isn’t that right?” I question and she nods her head in response. Such a sweet little girl. “Don’t worry, I will make you feel good. I will make you crave for my touch on your body so much that you will despise every other, you will beg me to touch you in places that you couldn’t, you will crawl to me and do whatever I say like my little bitch. You are mine now” I whispers, my gaze darken and I mean every fucking word I said. Her knees fail her and she drops to the ground, she is breathless. Damn do I fucking like the sight of her boobs bouncing upwards in a fast motion. I want to feel them in my palm but I restrict myself. I will have her, she was already mine but I won’t touch her yet.Morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains of Darla’s room, painting delicate patterns across the hardwood floor. The warmth was gentle, almost coaxing, but she remained curled beneath the covers, knees drawn to her chest, eyes fixed on the phone in her hands. It was an older model, chipped at the edges and slow to respond, but it held pieces of her past she couldn’t bring herself to erase.A hesitant knock at the door broke the silence, and Darla tensed instinctively, fingers tightening around the phone. But the voice that followed was warm, familiar, and a little rough with age.“Darla?” Marcel called softly. “Breakfast is ready downstairs. I made some coffee too—figured you could use it.”She exhaled slowly, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. Marcel’s presence was still new, a puzzle piece she hadn’t expected but found herself clinging to. He was a stranger in some ways—his eyes older, face lined with years of grief and weariness—but the kindness in his gaze was th
Ethan’s knuckles rapped against the door for the third time, the hollow sound echoing through the deserted hotel hallway. He leaned in, jaw clenched tight, heart hammering painfully against his ribcage. Silence stretched on the other side—deafening, absolute. Not even a whisper of movement.He swore under his breath, frustration spiking hot and sharp through his veins. Darla had to be inside. She wasn’t the type to ignore people, no matter how furious or hurt she might have been. Not unless…His breath hitched at the thought, fingers flexing against the smooth wood of the door. No. She couldn’t have left—not without a word, not when there was so much unresolved between them.But the silence lingered, unbroken and oppressive, taunting him with every heartbeat.“Darla!” he called, voice low but urgent, fingers tightening around the door handle. “Open up. We need to talk.”Nothing.An icy tendril of dread curled in his gut, twisting tighter with each passing second. His eyes narrowed, pu
The suitcase lay open on the bed, half-filled with clothes hastily folded and shoes shoved into corners. Darla’s hands trembled as she reached for another dress, the soft fabric slipping between her fingers as she struggled to breathe evenly. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs, her pulse a dull roar in her ears.She bit down on her lip, hard enough to sting, and forced herself to focus—one item at a time, one movement at a time. Pack, zip, leave. Simple. Necessary. Anything to escape the suffocating walls of the hotel room and the possibility of running into him again.Ethan.The name alone sent a fresh wave of panic crashing through her, her fingers faltering around the edge of a blouse. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flashed unbidden in her mind—the way they’d looked at her in the lobby, a mixture of shock and something else she couldn’t name. Something raw and aching that left her chest tight and her breath shallow.She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the memory aw
Esther’s eyes flicked to the clock on her office wall for the fifth time in as many minutes. Each tick seemed to echo louder than the last, pounding in her ears like a cruel reminder. It was past seven in the evening, the sky outside her floor-to-ceiling windows a dull gray, streaked with the last traces of daylight. Her phone lay face-up on her desk, dark and silent despite the dozen missed calls she had made.She drew in a shaky breath, forcing herself to focus on the financial reports open on her monitor, but the numbers blurred together, meaningless. The cursor blinked accusingly, a taunt to her futile attempts at distraction. Her manicured fingers drummed nervously against the mahogany desk, a tremor betraying her otherwise composed exterior.Two hours.For two hours, she had been calling Roy.And for two hours, he had not picked up. Not once.Her chest tightened painfully, a dull ache settling beneath her ribs. The same ache that had been festering since that night—since Darla h
Author’s POVThe low buzz of conversation filled the VIP section of the Rooftop Bar, but Roy barely registered it. His fingers curled around the neck of his beer bottle, the cool glass slick against his palm. It was already past three in the afternoon, and he was on his third bottle—maybe fourth. He wasn’t even sure anymore.He had come here thinking a few drinks with the boys might clear his head. It didn’t.King’s voice cut through the haze, smooth and casual. “What’s on your mind, buddy?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. The bottle in his hand clinked softly against the table, but Roy’s eyes remained distant, fixed somewhere beyond the dim blue lights flickering above.The atmosphere was suffocating. The heavy curtains blocked out any sunlight, making it impossible to tell if it was day or night. But the gloom felt fitting—an external mirror of the storm churning inside him.Darla.Her name surfaced in his mind unbidden, bringing with it a flood of memories he’d tried and faile
Ethan’s knuckles had turned red the moment he stepped out of the car, his fingers clenched so tightly that the veins beneath his skin protruded like strained cables. He flexed his hand absently, a futile attempt to shake off the tension that seemed embedded too deep to dislodge. The car ride had been mortifying, the low hum of conversation between John and Carlo barely registering. Their voices melded into the background—mere noise compared to the chaos raging inside his head.Darla.She had been right there. Right in front of him. And yet, the instant their eyes met, she had turned and fled. As if he were something to be avoided. As if he were nothing.How many times was she going to keep running from him?A sharp exhale left him, his jaw tightening with barely restrained frustration. He could never forget that face—those eyes, the way her lips parted in that fleeting second before she bolted like a coward. His chest burned with something raw and unnameable.Anger?Frustration?Pain?