I didn't expect our destination to be the restaurant. I watch as he turns off the engine. Why are we back here? As if he could read my mind he answers me. "You didn't get to try any of the food last night." Was this another one of his games ? Were we really here to try food? Isn't it three in the morning? "We're just having food Lana."He pulls out an umbrella from the backseat. He steps out of the car. Great he's taken the only umbrella, now I'm gonna get soaked by the rain. I could stay here though. Just when I thought he'd abandoned me I hear a tap by my window. I turn and find him standing by my door waiting with the umbrella. I guess I'm really going to do this huh. I hope the food is worth it. I step out of the car and seek refuge under the umbrella. Roman and I are huddled close to each other, really close. I find myself engulfed in his scent. I could just drown in it, it's so intoxicating. We hurry into the restaurant with minimal casualties, casualties being none of us so
I haven't had any dramatic or life threatening experiences this last weeks. I guess my husband really is handling it. I'm getting rather bored and I can't help but feel useless. Plus my thoughts, my damn thoughts have been eating me up. Life's too peaceful, way too peaceful and for the past few days I've been feeling on the edge. I feel like something bad is going to happen. Roman's keeping me in the dark, on the sidelines ugh. I feel like I'm a side character in my own life at the moment. He's keeping me safe. I'm grateful, I really am but such security isn't going to last long is it? I don't need to be shielded. I need to face the danger eventually. It's better I do it with him instead of alone right? It's not helping that I barely see him and when I do he's either in his office arguing with someone on the phone or him retreating into the elevator doors early in the mornings. He's a busy man I know, I feel a little lonely in that big penthouse. So you can say I really don't see him
RomanLana has a way of getting to you. She sneakily creeps through your defences when you aren't looking. She infuriates me in ways no one does. She makes me lose control. I hate losing control. That's why ever since that morning I've been keeping my distance. I have to if I want to be in control. She has this charm that draws people in, an addictive charm. I nearly got sucked into it when I kissed her, I almost lost control. I had to stop myself from throwing her on the table and devouring her. Those soft fucking lips I want to taste again. When I planned this out months before we encountered each other I expected it to be easy, I'd co exist with her in the house, sort out her father then ship her off. But now, the possibility of shipping her off is slim. My eyes are closed as I sag back in my chair. Her long, curly, ginger hair comes to mind. I want to make passionate love to her and I want to encircle my fist in it. That gorgeous, glossy, thick hair. She's so breathtakingly beaut
The clock is ticking, people's lives are in my hands. The mental anguish is killing me, my father has always loved games like this. Even though my body is trembling and seconds away from hitting the ground I suck it up. I take deep breaths and put on my mask. I bury all my emotions inside a dark pit at the centre of my core. I step out of my office. I pass by Annie who's seated behind her desk who waves gingerly at me. It takes everything in me to be able to meet her gaze and smile back. I already feel sick to my stomach. Still I keep walking, my legs getting heavier with each step I take away from her. "Mrs Micheals, what time will you be back?" She calls out. I stop in my tracks. I don't face her. I don't turn. I can't turn. There's a heavy silence that fills the place. The words are at the tip of my tongue but I can't say them. Time is ticking, I should be sprinting out of the building."I won't be back for a while.""Is something wrong Mrs Micheals?"My fingers grip the hem of
When I push the rusty door, it almost comes off its hinges. How long has this place been deserted? I'm getting goosebumps all over my body as I walk through the place. Dust floats around with each step I take, irritating my nose. I can hardly see anything because the place is so dimly lit. Despite the fact that it's dead quiet and I can't see anything out of the ordinary, I can't seem to shake my fear. Fear that something bad will happen at any moment.I keep my fingers steady on my gun. Guns make me uncomfortable. I come to a stop in front of a door. I stare at it intently, dread filling my body as I consider what lies behind it. After several minutes of deliberation and my hand hovering over the handle I open it. The room is pitch black. I don't take a step forward because all of a sudden my body is too heavy to move. I don't want to enter this room. I feel myself taking slow steps backwards instead. I stop myself immediately. Am I really going to run away? Am I going to leave Hunte
The room has white walls or rather had white walls. Coated in blood now and decorated with several pictures of me. Dating back to my college graduation day. Scribbles and markings are on some of my pictures with words like "slut", "traitor", "basard" "devil" "disgrace". I feel both disgusted and angry. This is sick and psychotic. I finally discover what was causing that terrible smell. Up ahead on the wall is a dead dog pinned. It's eyes are missing and so is its nose. The words "This will be your fate Lana." Is written in blood above its head. I won't lie and say I'm not terrified. I am, I'm extremely terrified. Each time my eyes scan the walls my fear gets intense. I am however also feeling immensely disgusted and angry. All these feelings are mixing up together to form an unstable potion inside of me. A potion that ignites my rage, more especially my thirst for revenge. My bloody thirst for revenge. I've never felt it at such an intensity before. I just want to tear everything
He's shackled in so many chains, scars all over his body have blood seeping from them. His face is puffed up and swollen making him barely recognizable. He's missing some fingers on each hand, my eyes drift down to his legs, they hang weakly and are twisted in a weird way. They aren't supposed to be twisted in that way. There's a huge pile of blood below him. Is he even breathing ? Something inside me breaks at this very moment. Something I don't think can ever be fixed. I make my way to him and my hands cup his bloodied face. "Hey Hunter, Hunter." My voice is faint and shaky. As his blood coats my hands, I feel myself sinking into that dark place. I check for a pulse holding my breath as I do so. I let out a sigh if relief when I feel one. It's faint, very faint. I have to get him out or here. My eyes scan the chains, I tug and pull on them, desperately trying to free him from their hold. My nods is shaking so much. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to free him. What if I
The monster that has been haunting my dreams all these years pops up on the screen. Alexander Morelli the devil himself. Sitted behind his favorite desk in his office and on his favorite large chair that resembles a throne. Though he's aged with the years, he has still managed to maintain his good looks. A full face of grey hair, and his familiar crooked nose he'd always had. His cold eyes that bore into your soul and haunt you when you close your eyes. With a scar across his left left cheek that I gave him as a parting gift. He gazes into my eyes. The last time we locked eyes like this was when he was laying in a pool of his blood after I shot him five times. I was fourteen. I watch frozen in place at the monster of a father I've come to dread. The man I hate with a burning passion. Resting in between his fingers is his prized Arturo Fuente cigar. Even after all these years those damn cigars still didn't kill him. Then again I thought I killled him too. I thought he was dead and wa