Love and Death || A toxic love story

Chapter 2

Finally, it was our turn to check out, a mix of relief and anticipation washing over us. The friendly cashier greeted us, oblivious to the silent drama that unfolded within us. As our items were scanned, I couldn't help but cast one last glance over my shoulder, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of something, yet there was still nothing.

~~~

As we stepped into my apartment, a shiver ran down my spine as I realized the door was unlocked. Panic surged through me. I distinctly remembered locking it before leaving. "Bella, the door... it's unlocked," I managed to utter, my voice laced with concern. She glanced at me, dismissing it with a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe you forgot to lock it? There's no way he'd come a second time, right?" she rationalized, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

Nodding in agreement, though doubt still lingered, I pushed open the door and entered cautiously. Placing my keys in the familiar bowl on the console table, then I led Carabella into my bedroom. We settled ourselves, and with a flicker of hope, I turned on the TV, ready to lose ourselves in the distraction of a movie.

"Hold on, let me get some water," I announced, rising from the bed. We had juice from the store, but I preferred the refreshing coolness of water from my refrigerator. "Alright, but be quick 'cause I'm not pausing it," Bella playfully warned, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. I giggled in response and nodded, making my way to the kitchen.

As I approached the refrigerator, my steps faltered, freezing me in place. There, on the door, was another card, its blue ink and familiar handwriting sending a chill down my spine. Dread washed over me as I read the chilling words:

"Little dove,
I thought I told you not to tell anyone. If you call the police, I just might kill your friend. And that's too bad, darling because I know a guy who might like her. What a shame it would be if they never found love. I'll see you again soon, little dove.
Love, M.

Ps: I have a key."

My heart sank, a heavy weight settling in the pit of my stomach. Frustration and fear mingled within me, threatening to spill out in a torrent of curses, but I bit back the words. Taking a deep breath, I let out a long sigh, stuffing the note into my pocket, and shielding it from Carabella's gaze. She couldn't see this. Not yet.

Clutching my water bottle tightly, I returned to my room, sinking to the floor beside Carabella, who sat on the bed. The movie had started, its sounds and colors playing on the screen, but my mind was elsewhere, consumed by the overwhelming thought of Carabella's life being in danger. The weight of responsibility pressed upon me, urging me to take action.

I needed to call the police, to protect her, to unravel the sinister mystery that loomed over our lives. But for now, I forced myself to focus on the movie, trying to find solace in its fictional world, even as the real-life threat hung heavy in the air.

Maddox's POV:

Her fear was evident. That was good. I had her heart shaking in my hands.

From the shadows of her balcony, I peered through the window into her bedroom. A wave of jealousy hit me as I watched her interact with her friend. They were too close, too friendly. My possessiveness consumed me, though I couldn't fathom why. She was just another victim, another pawn in my game.

But she was undeniably beautiful.

No. Focus, Maddox.

With a heavy sigh, I carefully climbed over the balcony's edge. It wasn't a great height, and my body was resilient enough to endure the fall. Landing nimbly in a bush below her apartment, I quickly rose and made my departure. My presence was undetected, as it always was.

Retrieving my phone from my pocket, I settled into the sleek black Corvette Z06, a symbol of power and dominance. It was one of my favorite toys. Dialing a number that had become all too familiar, I awaited the response on the other end.

"Hello?" The voice on the line greeted, the familiarity evident. "I found a gift for you," I announced, relishing in the anticipation of his reaction. A sigh of disappointment echoed through the phone as my friend replied, "You know, M, most people don't find gifts. They buy or make them."

"Such a materialist," I retorted, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. "It's a girl, Vitally." A moment of silence followed, broken only by his contemplative hum. Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with intrigue, "Meet me at my place in an hour." And without a farewell, he hung up. Typical.

The engine roared to life as I started the car, pulling out of the parking lot with a surge of adrenaline. "Damn," I muttered under my breath.

Something about tormenting this girl felt different. It's almost... fun.