The door flung open with a loud burst, prompting Inessa to jump in her spot. Her stunned eyes darted towards the door to find Danzel storming towards her with a face like thunder. His two orbs were glaring down at her with murderous intent. She gulped and shrunk back in the bed as the devil dressed in a customized suit advanced towards her. Death seemed a better option than facing him right now.
Before she knew it, he was standing beside her bed. Her heart lurched as he shot his arm out and grabbed her wounded wrist. His eyes narrowed a slit as they intently stared at her gauged gash. The gauge was stained with her blood. With bated breath, she watched him boring holes into her wrist.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally lifted his lashes. A shudder passed down her spine when her eyes collided with his predatory once. There was no trace of anger on his face now. He had cleverly masked his expression.
Without saying a word, he pulled her to her feet. Her legs wobbled but before she could fall he held her waist in time and steadied her. She glanced up at him and realised he wasn't looking at her. He let go only when she had gained enough strength in her legs. Without delay, he started dragging her out.
They reached his study.
"Sit," he motioned for her to sit on the sofa as he took off his jacket and strutted towards the bar with all his majestic bearing. The white dress shirt clung to his body perfectly. The buttons covering his wide chest were close to ripping with his every breath. One could easily outline the delicious curves of his toned biceps under those close-fitting sleeves. One could also see them flexing as he gracefully undid his cufflinks and rolled the sleeves up, revealing his huge, veiny forearms. Dressed in a white dress shirt and black trousers, he was looking devastatingly attractive but frighteningly powerful also. He epitomized masculinity.
He picked a bottle of the fines wine he had and started pouring them into two glasses. Inessa had already taken a seat and now was watching him in confusion.
Once he had filled the glasses to the brim, he took something out of his trouser's pocket. She squinted as he put the content into one of the glasses. Once the thing had dissolved into the wine, he picked both the glasses and carried them towards her.
"Drink it," he offered her the glass in which he had mixed something. She hesitated a moment before taking the glass.
"I've mixed poison in it," he stated as he casually took a seat across from her. She stared at him, dumbfounded.
He sipped on his drink and fixed her with an intent gaze. He was quick to read the question in her eyes.
"You wanted to die. Knock yourself out," he raised his glass towards her in a cheering gesture before taking another sip. His eyes didn't waver for a second from her now paled face. An evil smirk began to grow at the corner of his lips.
"Go ahead, do it. Kill yourself. Free yourself, doll," he asserted the last part.
"But remember, your this step will be compensated by your sweet family. I will make them go through hell and back but I won't kill them. Nope. This is the luxury they won't get," his shoulder bent in a predatory bow and his orbs turned cold as they glared at her with pure spite.
" Go on. Drink it, Inessa. Finish your life. Finish your mother, your sister, your brother's lives," he tilted his head and taunted her.
She took a shaky breath and glanced at the red liquid with apprehension. He continued to stare at her, noting her every moment, her every expression. His hold around his glass tightened when she lifted the glass a little but he forcefully restrained himself from doing anything. She stared at the liquid for a moment longer before turning her gaze on him.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked. He had already read this question in her eyes before she motioned it to him.
"You wanted to die. I am giving you a way out," his voice held no emotion as he continued to stare at her fixedly.
Helplessness crossed her features.
She inwardly cursed the maid who saved her. At least she would have been in peace now. If only she had arrived a few moments later, she would have been gone.
She lowered her gaze as tears dripped down her eyes.
"What? change of mind? Don't want to die anymore?" she detected a tinge of sarcasm in his tone.
He leaned back a little all the while subjecting her to his unrelenting stare.
"Don't ever pull this stunt again," he warned her sternly.
A roll of tear dropped into the glass as she continued to stare at it intently.
"Now put the glass down," he instructed her. A moment of silence passed as he waited for her to obey him. She didn't.
" Put the glass down this instant, Inessa," his voice raised and became more demanding. But she didn't obey. Her hands were trembling a little but only for a moment.
"Inessa," he warned her. In one swift motion, she brought the glass to her lips.
She closed her eyes and parted her lips to gulp it down her throat and let it burn her insides but just when the liquid touched her lips, the glass was forcefully drawn away.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he thundered down at her. At some point, he had managed to rush over to her. He tried to snatch the glass from her but she held on to it as if her life depended on it in this situation, her death.
"Give me the glass, Inessa," he gritted out, utterly displeased by her behavior. She responded by pulling the glass back. Some of the liquid spilled down the glass. Tears continued to stream down her eyes.
She wanted to die. She was tired of everything. She was tired of being prey, being a toy all damn time. What he did yesterday had pushed her over the edge. It didn't only hurt her, it killed her. What hurt the most was that he was the one who did this to her. He made her feel like a slut last night. He knew how much she hated it then why did he do that.
Despite everything he did, a silly part of her was still enamored with him. It still craved for him. It was her unfounded feelings that had made her tell him what she had never dared to repeat even to herself. And it had felt so good. How relieved she had felt when she didn't see contempt in his eyes for her after she was done telling him the story.
But yesterday. He broke her completely. She had been humiliated countless times but the last night had left an incurable scar. Maybe it was because the one who gave that scar was him.
"I said give it to me," he held the glass tightly. So tightly that it soon crashed into pieces, piercing their palms. The pain was quick to sweep across her features as the red liquid mixed their blood spilled from between their fingers.
"Damn it," he cursed and kneeled in front of her as he forcefully made her uncurl her fingers from around the glass. She couldn't fight.
The glass dropped to the floor with a shattering sound. He straightened her palm. She winced in pain.
"It will hurt," he glanced up at her to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were squeezed shut.
He looked down and started gently pulling the shards from her palm, ignoring his own wounded hand.
"Silly woman," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he pulled a long piece out. She winced again. He looked up at her. Tears were glistening in her eyes as she stared down at him. Something akin to guilt stabbed his guts. He turned his gaze back to her hand.
"Does it hurt a lot?" he asked as he carefully pulled the last shard.
She surprised him by grabbing his hand. He looked up at her, clueless as she brought his unwounded hand towards her chest. A tear leaped down her eyes as she held up her blood-coated hand and shook her head. She pressed his hand against her heart and nodded. More tears trailed down her eyes. He released a deep breath, realizing what she was saying. Her hand wasn't hurting, it was her heart that was hurting.
"Doll," she put his hand with his palm up on her lap and started trailing her index finger over it. He watched her finger dancing on his palm with confusion. It took him a moment to realize she was writing something.
"You said you will be my protector then why are you hurting me so much?" his chest rose a bit as he drew in an uncomfortable breath. He couldn't help but spy a glance at her. Her focus was on his palm but tears continued to slide down her cheeks. His chest constricted painfully.
"I haven't killed your brother. He was my best friend too. He was the only person who had accepted me as who I am. He was the only person who didn't hate me. He was the only person who made me feel like a human. He was the only person who didn't backstab me. How could I kill him?" a sob escaped her but she didn't stop. It seemed she was on some mission. His palm was now wet with her tears.
"I am a human too. I can't speak but it doesn't mean I can't feel also. You said you would protect me but you are the one who drive me to the point of suicide. I was born mute, I lost my mother, my family, my best friend, my freedom, and yesterday you took my pride too," she was a sobbing mess now.
"You treated me like trash. Yesterday, you made me crawl like a whore. You made me feel like a slut," she looked up at him at this point. Her eyes held pain and vulnerability.
"No one had ever made me feel like a slut. You did. You knew how much I hated it, then why?" he didn't need to follow her trembling finger to understand what she was saying. The question was evident in her eyes.
Still staring into his eyes, she continued to move her finger, "When you said you will protect me, I trusted you," he felt something heavy like a boulder crushing his heart.
She dropped his hand and started moving her hands, " I am afraid of intimacy but I let you get close to me. I liked you being close to me, you know why? Because I trusted you. Because I thought you will not betray me. You will not backstab me like others," her confession had stripped him off of his voice. Guilt twisted in his guts like a sharp knife.
She grabbed his collar with both her hands, ignoring the pain it brought. She tugged at his collar, pulling him closer.
She jerked her face up and asked "why." They were so close. For the first time, he felt intimidated by her. He gulped hard. He had no answer.
The woman he had claimed to love was crying, weeping because of him. What could have he said.
His hand of his own accord lifted to wipe her tears. She didn't resist him as he swept his thumb across her flushed cheeks.
He wiped her tears but the blood that was oozing from his cut smeared on her cheeks.
His gaze held no malice, no spite. They mirrored his pain.
They held their meaningful eye contact for a few moments before Danzel finally broke it. He pushed to his feet. She also looked away, wiping her unshed tears. She closed her eyes and hung her head, hearing his footsteps growing distant. After a few moments, he returned with a first-aid box.
He kneeled in front of her in striking resemblance to the last night when she had kneeled in front of him.
She opened her eyes when she felt someone's hand on hers. He took her hand and cleaned her wound. Heavy silence ruled them as he quietly tended to her cuts. Once he had gauged her cuts, he let go of her hand and took to his feet. He was calm and composed, like always. Inessa watched him with suspicion as he simply turned and walked out of the room without looking her way for once. The scarlet blood continued to drip down his unattended cuts, dotting the white marble behind him.
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