87: Live and die

Pov: Bianca

In my usual careless fashion, I forgot the way to Andre's office and walked into the first door I found.

I sat on the desk, my hands trembling in my laps.

I did it.

It's done.

Breath taking relief and gut wrenching guilt were fighting a war in the pit of my soul.

I tried taking deep breaths but ended up hyperventilating.

After a few minutes, the door pushed open and Andre walked in.

He must have taken a shower because his hair was wet and slicked back and he was wearing a black dress shirt, instead of the white one he stepped out with.

The look on his face was hard to read, hardly any emotion swirled in his black orbs.

I dropped my gaze and looked at my hands that were still trembling in my lap.

He let out a sigh and walked over to me. I didn't look up, even when he was right in front of me, his Tom Fords coming into view.

"Look at me," he ordered, and unable to resist him, I did.

His gaze softened. His right hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking my cheek soft