In the halls of the hotel, Arabella could see him for who he was entirely.
He was nothing more than a hollow shell, a rocket-man with perverse thoughts and dark fantasies.
She obediently followed behind him just as she had done so before in their past, willingly, blindly, and full of intense curiosity solely for the man who had the hardened glare and lecherous candy sweet words.
With her arms crossed over her chest and her head held up high, she was striding down the hallway with her unfaltering confidence.
The clicking noises from the bottoms of her six-inch heels clashed against the laminate tile floors creating an echo throughout the otherwise empty hall.
When they had reached the double doors to his suite, Arabella stood back and waited while Stanford pulled out his wallet from his front pocket.
He took the keycard for his suite out and then he opened the doors.
Like a gentleman, he stepped aside to let Arabella walk in first.
Without hesitance, she swiftly passed by him. The fragrance of her lightly scented floral perfume lingering behind her in the open air.
Arabella studied the suite thoroughly.
Opulence at its finest.
Slowly, she approached the large windows that overlooked the Las Vegas strip. It was easy for her to see the hundreds of people gathered outside of the hotel to enjoy the dancing Bellagio fountains.
Her gaze, although focused on the dancing fountain had instinctively torn upwards to the Eiffel Tower that was attached to the Paris Hotel.
Arabella scowled to herself. She had always dreamed of seeing the real Eiffel Tower but, for the time being, the replica lit up before her would suffice.
It would continue to be entirely silent for the next few minutes.
Mentally, she was slowly becoming undone. She was unprepared and suddenly questioning her real motives.
The silence, however, had granted her the ability to think in peace because she was admittedly confused by her nonexistent plan.
Metaphorically, she felt that on her shoulders sat two devils who were whispering into her ears in an attempt to manipulate her into thinking that it was okay to destroy herself in order to destroy Stanford Reign.
Nevertheless, her mind was sharp enough to help her remain calm and logical in the situation she had so impulsively thrown herself into.
Suddenly, it had occurred to her.
A chill suddenly crawled up her spine and left behind a trail of goosebumps on her golden-brown skin.
Arabella was frightened.
She was frightened for the most straightforward reason.
Being alone with him in his suite didn't make her nervous.
Instead, it felt comfortable and familiar.
YOU ARE READING
STARGIRL
General Fiction"Her lips are like the galaxy's edge, and her kiss the colour of a constellation falling into place" (AM). - Every time he looked at her, he could feel his heart breaking. She was the girl with the gleam in her eyes plucked from the stars themselve...
