I've thought a lot. By a lot I mean I thought all night. It won't come across as a surprise if I have bags under my eyes. I wasn't even able to grab a wink of sleep last night. Not after waiting for Amber to show up and talk about the situation at hand. When she arrived though, she was too drunk to be holding a civil conversation. When I woke up in the morning, she was still snoring like there is no tomorrow. However, the first thought that popped into my mind was to hack into Eliiot's systems and expose his hypocrisy. The only problem is that I don't know how to hack a million dollar system and I don't know anyone who will be willing to do that for me. That made me think of my second choice. Hire a spy to collect dirt on Elliot. But there's an obstacle, of course. A spy really? How would I get hold of one? My mind was generous enough to think of hiring a hitman to scare the shit of Elliot so that he backs off. But how would that go? I can only imagine Elliot grabbing the gun from th
With precise steps and strong determination, I walk towards the room until I'm right outside it. "Shh…Stay quiet. She will hear us otherwise." Elliot whispers to someone. My heartbeat quickens as I grab the door knob. How can someone be so shameless? He is planning to get married and yet he is sleeping around with different women. He didn't have the decency to get rid of his lover when he knew his fiance was just a few steps away from his room. Luckily the door isn't locked. He probably didn't think that I could go past his henchman or woman and get here. I turn on the camera of my phone as I open the door and step in. "You bastard-" My words die down in my mouth as I find Elliot trying to squish himself in his closet, trying to close the door. "What's happening here?" I mutter awkwardly, taking my phone down. I look around but there is no sign of any woman. Is he a child that is hiding his body in a closet? Did he hear me come? I get my answer when a kid emerges from behind th
"You look great." Amber says cheerfully as she finishes my makeup. "Though I hate the dress." She scrunches her nose in disgust, " This dress really didn't deserve the award." She complains, fixing my hair. "That stupid bastard really wanted to test my patience by sending me this dress." She mumbles to herself. "Amber, I don't think I will be able to do it." I take her hands in mine and confess to her. We had a lot to talk about last night. Though I wanted to get away and go back to my actual life or let our parents know about my existence, Amber's cry for help held me back. Apparently, she doesn't know what's the deal with Elliot. She assured me there's nothing underneath the surface. He is just an asshole who tries to establish the fact that he is superior to us. But she is afraid of Elliot. He can be considered as a damn powerhouse. "I know, I know." She reassures me, squeezing my hands gently. "But it's the last favour I ask of you, Willow." She promises, her big doe eyes be
"Having fun, aren't we?" Elliot asks as soon as he places his warm hand against my clothed waist, pulling me closer. "Not anymore." I reply to him, holding his burning gaze. His smirk only widens at my reply, looking more sinister than playful. He takes my hand, twirling me around. Unlike the first time, I manage to twirl elegantly like others this time. Though I would love to give myself the credit, I know Elliot's strong composer and expertise is partially responsible. When I'm done with the spin, he brings me so close to his body that I can smell his rich cologne. He smells like sandalwood, fresh out of the forest. His smell hits my nostrils like a pleasant surprise. I had to physically stop myself from sniffing him. That's embarrassing, even more because I just got caught by Elliot. He flashes me a sweet smile. That's a first. "For someone who wants to call off this alliance, aren't you too obsessed with me?" Elliot teases me, moving his body in perfect rhythm against mine. Hi
I'm well acquainted with fear. It's something I've always felt in the pit of my stomach. It's something which always accomplished me even though everything and everyone abandoned me at some point. I faced my real and worst fear when my mother was still alive and living with me. We were anything but happy. Dealing with my father's untimely death wasn't easy. It hit us out of nowhere, whacking our lives, shattering our hearts. Mom's condition worsened after his death. She was showing severe signs of schizophrenia. I didn't have enough money for her therapy and treatment. I lived in constant fear when I left her alone and went to work to earn our livelihoods. Every second I feared that she would do anything drastic and harm herself, every second I felt like a failure as a daughter. Fear. I'm feeling it now. However, in different stages of my life, fear wears a different disguise. One time it's life threatening and the other time it's mind numbing. Like right now. I don't know how to pr
I don't care about anything anymore, especially not about Amber's image after she lied to me and led me to believe I was in this with her. I tried calling her millions of times but each time the call didn't go through. She has turned off her phone, leaving me with no other choices but to suck it up and deal with it myself. And by dealing with it, I mean running away from the scene of the chaos. Alcohol. I hate this vice. I remember the first time I tried to drink this poisonous liquid when I was a high school senior. After one drink, I kept drinking and drinking until I vomited my gut out. But that wasn't the worst part. Being intoxicated by alcohol, I did something I wished I never did. I confessed my feelings to Ashton Coopers, the boy on whom I had a huge crush. When I was sober enough to attend school the next day, I became the laughing stock of school. From there onwards, school became a hell for me. Constant teasing and bullying became parts of my syllabus. My fault was to dream
I've always loved birds. They remind me of the freedom I never had. I've always wished for the ability to fly away from the misery of my life like those birds. But right now, there's nothing in the world which I hate more than birds. I scramble around the bed to look for pillows. A sigh of relief leaves my mouth as soon as I grab two pillows and put them beside my ears. My head is pounding and the chirping noise of the birds isn't helping one bit. “Stop it.” I groan out in desperation, rolling to my left side. “Please.” I mumble as if birds would acknowledge my pleas, “I need sleep.” I continue to whine. But these birds take no mercy on me. Closing my eyes tightly, I try my best to grab some sleep. I don't know why it's hurting so bad. It's very rare for me to get sick. However, it's not the time to inspect the reason. Just when I'm about to ignore the loud noises of the birds, I can hear footsteps inside my room. “Who is it?” I ask myself, panicking in my sleep. Apparently, slee
“Can you believe it? He called me to come to his rescue instead of having some quality time with you.” Lailah shakes her head in disappointment after animatedly stating her blabbering. I sip on my tea made by Lailah which soothes my messed up head to some extent. Though her tea is out of the world and is comforting for my throbbing head, her constant rumbling erases all the positivity that it brings. I find myself nodding my head continuously as I listen to her. Before I know it, I zoom out of the conversation and lose myself in my thinking world. Apparently, it's Lailah who helped me out of my dress and into the pyjama set. Embarrassment makes its way towards me as I recall how I accused Elliot of doing something last night. “Are you even listening to me or am I speaking to myself?” Lailah asks, her lips pulled into a cute yet fake pout. Shaking my head, I place the cup of tea on the table, “I'm listening.” I say to her, guilt flashing in my eyes. “Sure you are.” She calls me out
No. She is definitely joking. It can't possibly be true. I heard the conversation between Elliot and Leo in the car. He has the reputation of being a playboy. The fact that he is a virgin contradicts all other allegations. “Stop joking around.” Lailah’s facial expression says that she didn't expect that reply from me. “You are talking about things which are exactly opposite. He is a well- known playboy. How can you say that he is a virgin? It's like the joke of the year.’ I scoff. My strong reaction shocks them momentarily. I sound so jealous that it shocks me as well. I realise how far I've fallen. Elliot has turned me into a lovesick girl. I don't remember ever being jealous over anything or anyone. But now, there's a bitter taste in my tongue, in my mind. In fact, jealousy is written all over my face. Lailah doesn't say anything. She looks back at Leo who gives her a “told you so” look. “Leo?” He looks at me, responding to my call.“Yeah?”“Now that you know I'm Amber, you mus
“Are you sure she will be alright?” I can hear an angry tone even when I think I'm deep into sleep. The angry tone itself tells me that it's none other than Elliot. Is he talking about me? “Elli, I'm not a doctor but I have ears, fully functioning ears. And those ears heard what the doctor said.” A new voice emerges, sounding sarcastic. My consciousness can't pick up the voice but I feel like I heard it before. I know who talks with this kind of sarcasm. I try to open my eyes and see who it is, but I just feel so tired. My eyelids feel too heavy to move. “Leo, don't be mean. Elliot is just worried about his wife. Be good!”A female voice chides him. Leo? What's he doing here? If the guy is Leo then the girl must be Lailah. What are they doing here all of sudden? I want to know, I want to open my eyes. “I'm sorry.” But he doesn't sound sorry at all. Typical Leo. “I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Mr.Ivanov. And yeah, your wife will be alright. That's what the doctor said. So, now
“Are you serious?” My hands are on my hip like a classic mom who is angry at something. “What?” He feigns innocence, looking at me with puppy eyes. “You want me to believe that you could manage only one room?” He nods his head. “Isn't that what the receptionist said? If you don't believe me, go ahead and listen to him again.” He shrugs his shoulders, walking ahead of me. “You are a billionaire for God's sake!” I say behind him, walking behind him. “So?” He halts which causes me to collide with his chest. “You want me to waste my money just because I'm a billionaire?” He asks, bending down a little and touching the bridge of my nose with his finger.“Yes. I do.” I swat his hand away, “How are we supposed to share a room here as well? If you have forgotten, let me remind you, we aren't married.” He looks bored of my speech. “Not yet.” He corrects me, “Besides, weren't you too bold, too eager earlier?” He whispers in my ear. I push him away and walk towards the room. It's not lik
“Is the greatest of all, the strongest mafia leader the world has to offer, afraid of flight?” My voice is teasing, eyes twinkling with newly found interest. Elliot scoffs at my face, not admitting it. He plays cool by picking up a glass of liquor. But I can see his discomfort. It's written all over his face. It makes me wonder if he has always been like this. I can't even imagine it. He has to fly all the time for his business. It must be a hassle to always feel uncomfortable and slightly scared while flying, that too so frequently. It's not my first time flying. But it's definitely my first time flying in a private jet. Who would have thought that the girl who was fighting poverty, working overtime to get meals 3 times a day, would have the luxury to ride on a jet like this? Definitely not me. I'm still awestruck by that fact. However, my joy of being in such a majestic vehicle doesn't last long. The reason? Elliot fucking Ivanov. You are wrong if you think I'm saying this because
“Can I talk with you for a while, dad?”I ask him over the phone. “Well, you are talking now, baby girl.” His voice is humorous as he speaks. “Yeah.” I don't let my annoyance show at all, “But I want to talk about something private, something serious.” He sighs loudly over the phone. “If something is bothering you, we should talk face to face. I will swing by your place tonight.” He offers. The affection that he holds for his daughter is unparalleled. It's hard to believe that he has done anything wrong. Maybe it's his love for his daughter which led him to the wrong path. “No need for that. I'm standing right outside your office.” I let him know. I can imagine the confusion on his face. “Then why aren't you coming in?” He proceeds to ask. “Because your secretary told me you are busy with work. So, I decided to call you.” He laughs out at my answer, probably getting the shock of his life that Amber decided to wait and call. “Now that I'm talking to you, I think you are not as bu
“Get dressed.” Elliot orders me in a cold voice after we are done. His behaviour hits me like a bucket of cold water. He was such a gentleman, treating me like a princess. His tone has totally changed. He has come back to his usual cold self which makes him a self-centred jerk. Was I really getting ahead of myself? Is he gonna be more of an asshole to me from now on because he has gotten a taste of me? “Come on, hurry up.” His voice gets rougher, “We haven't gotten all day. What if someone comes through?” He asks, buttoning his shirt which is all crumbled up. “Didn't you say you don't care about what people think about you?” I ask him, my voice bitter and is battered with hurt. “Yeah.” He agrees, using the dresser to check himself out in the mirror, “But I do care what others think about you.” My heart pounds like crazy against my ribcage with that one sentence. Elliot may be the most confusing person I've ever encountered. The rough edge of his voice went into hiding, making an
“Are you gonna sleep now? I know I'm soft and comfortable but, I can't possibly be a substitute for a pillow or a mattress.” Elliot's soft voice brings me back from my reverie. I feel so embarrassed that I don't even want to look up at him and keep burying my face in his chest. Apparently, I've grown so comfortable with him that I don't mind our close proximity. I don't mind that I'm hugging him for my dear life. If my old self peeked into this situation, she would be so surprised to see herself in this position. “Aren't I a jerk anymore?” He jokes humorously, taking his hand off of me. Did he really have to make me so embarrassed? I'm already thinking of digging my own grave. What did I think before breaking into a fit of tears in Elliot's arms? Apparently, nothing. But I'm glad he is at least a decent human being. No. He needs more credit than that. No one held me like that while I cried since my parent's death. No one made me so comfortable without even saying anything. No one ma
Keep telling myself it's a do or die situation, and I need to fight back, I turn back only to find Cara standing behind me. This crazy bitch! I pick myself up quickly before she can take advantage of me being in a disadvantaged position and attack me again. Like I said, she strikes at me again but I dodge her skilfully, causing her to collide with the sink. “I will fucking kill you today, you bitch.” She hisses like a snake, coming towards me again. Just when she thinks she has me in a tight position, I grab her by the hair and turn her around, making her face the mirror. She messed up with the wrong girl if she thought she could easily overpower me. I was never physically weak. My father used to teach me how to fight when I was a little kid because he was a frantic fan of wrestling. I wasn't weak, I was just a coward. I belonged to the bottom of the food chain. How was I supposed to fight with the rich kids who had everyone and everything to back them up? So, I had to keep my mout
Cara isn't as foolish as she lets others believe. She didn't make a haste call to one of her men demanding answers. She called her sister, talking about the design of a girl's dress that she liked. Who could have thought that even at a time like this, she was thinking of her work? She doesn't fool us either. She is trying to distract us, playing safe. While Elliot is busy talking to different people, I get a call from mom. Finding a less quiet place, which would be ideal for the phone call, I pick it up. “How's the date going?” She squeals like a schoolgirl with a crush. Her enthusiasm doesn't cease to make me smile brightly. “Mom.” I say in a gentle yet scolding tone, “We are attending a party, not a date.” I remind her. I can imagine her disappointed face right now. “That's a bummer.” She even sounds disappointed. Sometimes, I feel as if she is stuck in an old person's body. Her spirit is still so young. “Right. It's so sad.” I add, putting salt in her burn. “But I would let y