My life before was just like my name, Haven. Everything was peaceful, everything went my way, and I had everything that I needed. If I wanted something, I'd have it in a snap. I didn't need to move, make an effort, or work for it. I just needed my d...
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CHAPTER 37: IT'S OVER
HAVEN'S POV
My head whipped to look at the door when the television went black. I didn't notice that Allessio was already standing there, looking like he just came back from a run. He was holding the TV remote that I had placed on the accent drawer near the door.
I woke up with him gone. I know I'm not completely alone in the giant penthouse he rented here in Manila since I could hear voices outside the room, but instead of going out to face the world, I decided to just stay in the room and turn on the TV.
Allessio, however, proved that he knows me more than anyone else in this world because there was already breakfast on the bedside table waiting for me when I woke up this morning.
I set down my fork. "I was watching that."
"You don't need thrash like that this early."
The first thing I saw when I opened the television was the news about my family and the Kensington family. There was even a footage of my parents being taken back to prison, their bandaged hands clearly visible.
Even though I know that he wanted a worse outcome for them, Allessio has been more merciful considering that he didn't take both hands of my parents. He just cut off their right hands.
Allessio crossed the distance between us, and I watched him lean down to take my hand, which is holding the fork. I watched him take the piece of food pierced on it with his teeth, his tongue flicking out to lick the juice from his lips.
I don't think food iswhat I'm craving for breakfast anymore.
"Everything's okay now, Haven."
I was pulled back to our current situation in a snap of a finger. Sighing, I pierced the tomato in my plate more forcefully than I intended to. "Now that everything's done, I don't know why I'm feeling like this."
The bed dipped a little when he sat down. "Feeling like what?"
"Mad."
He stared at me quietly for a second, before a faint smile appeared on his lips. "If you're not, I would have been more worried. I like it that you are mad."
"You do?" I asked, confused.
"Because the alternative is you being sad."
Some women dream of a prince. The one that is riding a white horse and will charm them with his smile, and say nothing but sweet things to them. Some prefer a knight. Someone brave that will fight for them until his last breath.
But what I got is a dark king. He is not charming, but rather, he's magnetic. He'll get his hand bloody and raw to give me a sweet life and not simply sweet nothings. And like a knight, he will fight for me. But not until his last breath. He will fight for me, and he'll make sure that he'll win because not even death could keep him away from me.
