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"You were mine the second you put your signature on that contract." He looked at me with pure lust and dominance in his eyes.
"F*ck you."
He smirks and moves closer to me, coming to my side of the booth and caging me ag...
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November
I stand, completely and utterly terrified of what's beyond the doorframe.
Everything is either shattered or torn. Red and black ink cover the entirety of the walls, from roof to floor. My hand involuntarily covers my mouth in shock.
I hear Lewis in the back of the penthouse, his voice full of anger and hints of fear as he and James speak through the small device in his hand.
He told me to stay by the door since it'd be safer for me but I don't get how. Who's to say the criminal isn't in the hall about to drag me to my doom?
I walk further into the apartment over all of the destroyed expensive furniture, over all of the broken wine glasses, over all of the ripped up portraits.
I almost slip on a clear liquid on the floor. I just barely catch my balance but in the process I bump into a lamp, sending it crashing to the ground. The echoing of Lewis' voice comes to an abrupt stop. I hear heavy footsteps ascending from the back of the apartment and seconds later he comes around the corner.
With a gun.
I gasp when he mindlessly points it at me. Once he realizes there's no one other than me in the living room he sighs a relieved sigh and lowers his gun, stuffing it in his pants. "What happened?" He stalks toward me and wraps an arm around my waist cautiously.
"I slipped, I'm sorry." My voice is small. As if I had lost my voice but I knew that wasn't the case. It's not like I broke everything in here but I added to the problem. I bet everything in here is 10x more expensive than everything I've owned in my 21 years of life on earth.
I look up into his eyes, his arm around me tightens. His free hand rests gently on my cheek, his thumb rubbing comforting circles repeatedly. He looks from my right eye down to my lips and lingers before looking back up to my left eye. "I need you to know," He waves his arm around signaling the contents of the room. "means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing. The only thing here that I care about, is you." He lowers his head and places a soft kiss on my forehead. Before he pulls away he whispers against my skin.
"Your all I care about." I inhale his scent and it instantly calms me. He smells expensive although it's not overwhelming. I smile as he pulls away from me. He's told me this before, he's made it known that he wants me. That he cares about me. But so have the people of my past. There's not much I can use as an example of how it feels to be cared for, to not have to worry about anything.
I look away from his hot gaze and focus my attention on the scribbles that cover the walls. I walk away from him and towards the closest wall to me. I run my fingers over the dried paint, reading the words as I walk.
