Thinking back now, he knew that was the first night he had let his composure go down the drain before her, and he knew she noticed it too.Maybe he had even done it on purpose to see her eyes fill with questions she couldn't answer herself. It fascinated him to the extreme.Her eyes scrutinized him as if what she sought was buried under his skin.How had he not perceived this side of her? She was an unpredictable human, constantly devising, and although it was dangerous, he couldn't wait to see what she came up with under that brown hair of hers.It had been a while since he sat down to enjoy anything, and her show just seemed to catch his attention. She had effortlessly gotten under his skin with just a few moves, and no one knew, but he was just one to keep danger close.Now as he brushed the already-dried painting of his daughter, he couldn't help but smile out his satisfaction, although knowing she might take a peek at it and then drop her attention back on what she was doing, then

He ignored Nikolai, walking towards me, then stretched his hand for a handshake, "This day will forever be carved in my heart, First Lady Elena Rossi," "And who are you?" It was taking all of my will not to pull back."Oh me," he pointed to himself, then stared back at Nikolai before returning his gaze to me, then standing erect and bowing, just too low, his hand still stretched, "I'm Noah's brother."I blinked. Didn't he notice I heard enough for me to make out he was lying to me? But I wasn't about to tell him; he could pull a gun.What did he have on Nikolai that even warranted him calling the president 'Stupid'?A lot of things weren't right here."It's hard to keep my hand on the air like this" he held his elbow for support, "I'll like a handshake if you'll stop staring at my tats."I blushed red."I'm sorry I didn't realize," I shook the hard rough hands forcing a friendly– "I see you're friends with my husband."He dug his hands into his pocket, "Childhood friends First Lady,

Authors POV Once she got home, she quickly ran a warm shower and, as fast as she could, dabbed some foundation to cover up the bruises, and then instead of her nightgown, she opted for his pajamas and t-shirt so it could hide a lot from him.Before pouncing into bed, she stared at her broken self in the mirror, her fingers tracing her swollen chin.She shut her eyes away from the picture of hopelessness and pain. Was it possible, even for once, to live without pain and tears? To feel safe and confident enough about what the following day looked like.She heard his steps at the door, and she gasped, jumping under the sheets raising it over her head, and then holding her breath.He walked in then, although she couldn't hear his shoes which were quite surprising because he had made a lot of noise with them just outside of the door.After waiting a long time and she still didn't hear the showers turn on or the bed pressed, she hitched the covers a little to meet with an empty room.She fr

Unmoved and unflinching, like he was just told the earth was round. She waited, listening to her breath, eyes on him with his chin held high; she wondered if he even heard what she said.Then finally, his face still poker, he drew breath in, "That isn't good,"She blinked at him, seeing he wasn't going to say anything else; she looked at the woman who was pushing cotton wool into a spirit container.It felt strange that the Doctor hadn't inquired about her injuries yet. Was she taking Nikolai's word for it? Well, he was president; he could buy her silence.Lowering her lashes, she continued, "There was no sign of a break-in; the method used on him was torture, something called Ling chi,"The doctor paused on Elena's arm, and when Elena raised her head, it was to see her staring at the president aghast.Nikolai raised a brow, his eyes boring into hers. "Doctor Clara, is there anything I can do for you?"The woman let out, "Ling chi, death by a thousand cuts, that is an extremely grueso

Elena's POV.The night before, I had slept off, hoping to start my day as early as possible before he woke up, or even dreamt of it, Going into his office, then maybe searching.Searching for? You might ask, but I, too, didn't know; there had to be something, something that would either get me relaxed or running for my life.Consider my shock when I slowly opened my eyes to find him sitting next to my bed, a glass of scotch in his hand, while he stared at the smudged painting of Mia he had hung on our wall.I had wanted to ask him why he had done that when he could have easily made another one, but like all of his actions recently, It was hard to understand.Like why he was holding a glass of scotch in the wee hours of the morning.It was shocking to see him sitting there calmly rolling the cup and doing nothing, but I felt too paralyzed to jerk.Out of habit, my eyes moved to my alarm clock; now I was sure my alarm was being disabled, for I remembered setting it up after watching Doc