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My family was extremely wealthy and well off.
I, with an established reputation and career, was extremely wealthy and well off.
However I think nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing compared to the amount of money, the Verratti's, especially the brothers━ Nikolai and Romano owned.
I was now currently seated in the limousine sent by Nikolai, which was parked in front of this gorgeous mansion, which could easily be mistaken as a castle. I stared at the freaking castle through the tinted windows of the limousine with wide eyes.
I whispered, "Woah."
The chauffeur whispered back, "I know right."
I snorted in agreement as he walked out to communicate with the other guards and alerted everyone that I had arrived, and walked to accompany me out of the limousine. I quickly recollected myself, and took deep breaths in and out and straightened out my skirt.
The guard then emerged out of the enormous castle and jogged towards me and helped me out.
"We have informed the Capo that you have arrived. He is however, in an important meeting now. He wishes for you to look around the mansion while he wraps up the meeting, ma'am."
I smiled warmly at him, "That's alright, I don't wish to look around. Would you perhaps lead me towards an area where, I could wait for him?"
The guard smiled back widely and nodded, "Of course ma'am."
I begrudgingly followed him, not knowing the head or tail of what's to come of our meeting.
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As I walked past the never ending hallways, I found myself gawking at every portrait of him.
Every single thing about him fascinated me, no matter how much I tried to resist the idea of him.
After a long time, my mind and heart were at war against one another, battling for victory.
He tried to hurt you earlier with his words, his actions, his . . . everything, my mind quarreled.
But, there's a huge chance that he doesn't know the full story from my perspective, my heart reasoned with my mind.
He might just be like the rest, he chose to believe everyone and jumped on the hate train, he'll leave once he knows the whole story.
But, how can I expect him to look at me with softened eyes so soon? We hardly know each other.
From one misunderstood person to another, could he not notice the signs from a mile away?
But, he is a Capo. Being an empath is not his top priority and responsibility.
Why are you growing soft for him?
He has not done anything to prove himself worthy of you.
You are repeating the same mistake, again, and again.
He did not even have to try. You are right, he easily slithered his way into my cold, broken self that's set to fail, once again.
You are asking to be hurt aren't you? What if he thinks and feels otherwise, that all you ever were to him was a meaningless hookup?
But, his actions, his body, his gaze, his words were telling me a whole another story, oh, disastrous mind.
Keep your distance, don't eagerly set yourself up for another heartbreak, you only have yourself to count, no one would dare to mend you, no one ever did.
I felt my heart flinch and numbed at what my mind had stated.
A reality check that was below the belt, but necessary to keep my distance.
Yet, I found myself obsessively looking into everything in this room that belonged to him. I was observing and analyzing, trying to learn any new detail about him, big or small. I was curious, oh so curious as to find out who was the man who managed to capture my shattered heart with his promising hands, and keep it locked somewhere I'm not aware of, yet.
While I was busy scanning the room, I managed to come across an intriguing painting.
A painting that I've seen and heard of, way too many times, I've lost count, it was one so exquisite and haunting that, it hit a little too close to the paradox I have become.
I've seen this painting before, this painting was present during the set of one of my old films.
The painting consisted of a little kid, who was on the verge of falling, from somewhere above.
The kid, who is on the verge of falling into the pits of the unknown, is attached to strings.
Strings that are maneuvered cautiously and skillfully by multiple sets of hands, whose fingers are all interlaced with the strings which held the little kid.
The rest of the details were all up to the viewer's subjective interpretation.
Whether the kid was a little boy or girl, or just a mere soul, lost or found, happy or sad.
Whether the kid was on the verge of falling to the depths of doom, or on the verge of being rescued by the strings.
I kept staring at the painting with a rather helpless gaze, when I felt his presence entering the room, before I felt his hands which righteously found their home on the sides of my hips. He was embracing me like any genuine lover of mine would do, and that alarmed me to an extent, because I loved it.
He placed a kiss on the side of my forehead, "Tell me, what do you see sweetheart?"
Sweetheart.
His voice was like a soft melody, luring me into spilling my deepest, darkest secrets.
He was up to something.
He was trying something out, testing out something.
"Answer my question, sweetheart."
The vague feeling of familiarity that came from being called sweetheart became stronger, and as though I had woken up from a vicious nightmare I loathed, I remember this all from before, all too well. Unwanted memories came rushing back as I thoroughly searched my scattered brain for more repressed memories that will connect the missing pieces, that's when it finally struck me.
I had done an exact scene like this in one of my older films, with him.
Harvey Van Doren.
The charming golden boy who tricked me with that damn smile of his.
The aspiring star who owned my midnights as we sat on the H of the Hollywood sign almost every night and repeatedly promised me that we would rise to stardom together, not only as A listers but also as star crossed lovers.
The upcoming star then, who used me however, whenever he pleased to, while little did I know, he was obsessively chasing her with paranoia and agony. I had not known my exact position in our relationship back then, didn't feel the need to because I blindly trusted him.
How very foolish and naïve of me.
I thought I was it, for him.
I was terribly mistaken.
I was the other woman.
Little did I know, all I ever was to him was a look-alike of her, a fling for him, while he excessively dreamt of her, yearned for her, while he laid next to me, held me in his arms, every single night.
In my story, Harvey Van Doren was the one who never thought twice to destroy and burn me strategically and toss away the ashes and remains of me away just for her.
I was the other woman in their glorified, fucked up love story.
I never signed up for that role, I never fucking consented to acting out that role.
I still remember the night which was etched in my cruel memory and burned the very existence of me.
I had to runaway for my life carrying all the pieces of me that shattered, the moment he declared Serena Hills to be his forever.
I had to run away from myself and everything that made me, me back then.
The night which altered the chemistry of my brain, and finally made me the blood thirsty monster I am today.
When she nervously tucked a strand of her silky beach blonde hair behind and muttered a soft yes to being his in front of the whole world, in front of our whole world, the world we had meticulously built from scratch.
So cruel and vile.
I had stood there amongst the ones who religiously prayed for my downfall, and watched heartbroken as he gracefully took the role of prince charming, luring his princess into being his forever.
I had not known.
She looked so kind and dreamy.
I would never have played around his high walls had I known his plan all along.
His plan to pursue his sweetheart.
Why did he initiate and indulge in my company if I was never his?
A fling?
A convenient pitstop?
Why do people take immense pleasure in using and playing with others, while they chase after the ones they genuinely wanted all along?
What had I ever done to deserve a lifetime of eternal misery?
I yearned to be loved, not only desired.
My vision turned hazy as I got a sense that I've been betrayed by the one person I had trusted after a long time, as I took slow, unsteady steps back and focused on my shallow breathing, as I disappeared into the night, filled with dread, imagining the headlines of Carla, Harvey and Serena.
A twisted folklore.
. . .
"Carla Rossi caught standing in the arms of her rumored lover, Harvey Van Doren, in front of this peculiar painting on the set of Hallucinations."
"Carla Rossi cheekily confirms her relationship status with Harvey Van Doren, with an interesting caption."
"Carla Rossi is seemingly madly in love with the rising star Harvey Van Doren within just two months of their relationship."
"Trouble in paradise: Harvey Van Doren spotted with an old fling? Is there a third party intervention in paradise?"
"Carla Rossi and Harvey Van Doren breakup, was it due to high infidelity? Here's everything you need to know."
"Who is Serena Hills? "Their eyes spoke volumes." Fans speculate Harvey Van Doren was truly after the aspiring model, the entire timeline of his relationship with Carla Rossi."
"Carla Rossi knows her worth and presents herself as the epitome of elegance for handling it all like a pro and has moved on, chasing after fame and getting chased by pretty boys."
"Harvey Van Doren seems slightly distraught at the news of Carla Rossi's new romances and endeavors. Their fans mourn as this is truly an end of an era."
. . .
Just like that it all came crashing down, and clueless eighteen year old me left the ghostly scene brokenhearted and betrayed to only realize that all I ever was to him was a convenient fuck who looked similar the girl of his dreams.
In my defense, he said everything I ever wanted to hear and catered to everything I ever needed. In his own twisted way, he pitied me after learning glimpses of my severed past, he took care of me, and was there for me when no one else was there.
He told me that it was okay to be comfortable within my own skin.
He confused me.
He told me that a man's desire could be laced with good intentions, but he proved me wrong.
He destroyed me.
He taught me that I could dream a happy ever ending, and he emphasized on it so much that I believed that he was my happy ending.
He lied to me.
Why else would a person teach one the art of eye contact, the act of hidden touches in plain sight, if he was never going to stay?
He broke me in the most hurtful way possible.
How was I supposed to know I was just a pitstop before he reached his final destination, when he was such an extraordinary actor even in his own life?
"Sweetheart?"
I froze, Nikolai's words and actions, I realized why they seemed similar and nostalgic.
I've already had the person I once loved dearly, say this to me, in a different tone and manner.
Like I've lived through this scene of a movie before, in a different persona for a different someone, him.
I've already envisioned this scene unfolding in front of my eyes. I've acted out this scene, before.
My character in the movie would be in the arms of my love interest played by Harvey, as we stare at this specific painting.
I decided to recite my lines albeit a little differently, to see if Niko could catch me. To see if we were playing the same game. If he did, it would prove that the Capo had done some intensive research to hit me where it hurts, to mock me, to break me, never to love me, or heal me.
Was it my curse this lifetime to be desired, but to never be loved?
I could scream on the top of my lungs, begging to be loved and cherished but I would fail.
Why should he love me?
My reputation was at its worst in this wasteland, for it's filled with pride and prejudice.
"The way I see it, every human is a puppet with strings. Some puppets are the puppeteers of their own lives, they have and take full control of their strings. Some do not have any control over their strings, they have other puppets who claim to be their puppeteers."
He softly chuckled and circled his arms around my waist.
"You are being vague, sweetheart. Tell me what you truly see."
I remain silent, he was unashamedly reciting the same lines Harvey had tauntingly, as though he had obsessively memorized it all in an attempt of replacing him and every other lover who had the honour of being mine before.
The single thought made me feel warm and fuzzy.
My eyes softened.
My loud mind quietened.
My unsteady heart beat slowed down to a steady rhythm.
My Niko.
Not her Harvey.
My Niko.
He sighed at my lack of response, and slowly whispered into my ear, "Fine, I'll start. You'll tell me if I have guessed you wrong, and correct me, yeah?"
I nodded and hesitantly relaxed under his hold, unconsciously.
I tensed, when he tightened his hold as unspoken satisfaction.
It was all real, it was all impromptu from this second onwards.
He was going to try to figure me out, like my love interest did in the movie.
Like all my hookups and lovers tried to in the past.
Like Harvey tried to.
In the movie, it would be spot on of my character, and I would act surprised and turn around to look at Harvey as though he were sent from the angels to become mine.
All my hookups would try to figure out the mystery of Carla Rossi, who she was, and I would act surprised and validate them that their version of Carla Rossi was indeed who I genuinely was behind the cameras and the flashing lights.
To some, I was a dazzling shining star who was the epitome of purity and elegance, who was theirs to worship for the night.
To some, I was a mischievous little minx, who loved to live daringly, who was theirs to ruin for the night.
To some, I was a pretty vixen who wanted to escape from fame forever, who was theirs to tame for the night.
The list of all the versions of who truly Carla Rossi was goes on, on, on and, on.
Only that would happen in the movies and with the men who lusted after me for the thrill of it all. However I knew, Nikolai Verratti was going to take this opportunity to break me.
"I see this precious little girl, who yearns to be truly in control of her own life. But, no matter how hard she tries to capture the reins of herself, the reins always seem to fall under the hands of sick, twisted pretenders who inevitably destroy her sooner or later."
My shattered heart fell, and the voice inside my mind, screamed I told you so.
He's just like the rest, out to get you.
He has reasons to solely loathe you.
He has no reason to care for you.
I freeze under his hold.
He immediately caresses me and softly kisses my neck, as though reassuring me that no one would dare to lay a finger on my body and soul in a way that tormented me, but I could be wrong, and I would not be surprised.
I've been wronged for the longest time, I would only be surprised if I was right about his mixed signals.
He whispers, "Am I wrong, darling?"
I softly whisper back, "No."
As though he could sense that he had hit a nerve, his grip around me tightened, he hummed and I could feel his minty breath lingering against my neck as he peppered me with his kisses.
"Tell me precious, what do you see? Let me inside that beautiful mind of yours."
Precious. There he was again, my Niko.
Like I said, everything about him fascinated me, no matter how hard I resist.
Yet I needed to resist, it would end terribly if I let him in, like I let in the rest before.
So I had no choice as I decided to go in for the kill.
I had to sharpen my words and give him a valid reason not to trust me, not to treat me like I'm the love of his life, but to treat me like his enemy, after all that was what was silently decided in our last encounter.
He was supposed to despise me, I am after all, Carla Rossi.
I was supposed to loathe his existence, he is after all, Nikolai Verratti.
When did we decide to lower our guards and play with fire?
I look down and let myself succumb to the voice inside me that begs to be let out.
I inhale deeply and speak my heart out, giving him a reason to back off.
"I see a sweet boy who is desperate to be understood, accepted and loved. He has captured the reins of his own life and others, and is now fully in control of himself and others. However that seems to slowly kill him, he yearns to hand over the reins to someone who can treat him like the king he is, however he is scared. So, he holds onto his reins tightly, and never hands it over to the hands of many who are desperate to be his,"
He stills, and being so close to him, I realize he had momentarily forgot to breathe.
That's it, I had him right where I wanted him.
Fuck what the heart wants, I'm not repeating my mistakes.
I have no one to blame but myself if I fall for this charade, again.
I slowly turn around and cup his face, stand on my tiptoes and place a kiss on his forehead.
". . . for he fears and believes that, some sort of history will inevitably repeat itself, sooner or later." I finish with a bewildered gaze as I watch his face fall with disbelief and sadness.
He looks distraught, and shaken to the core.
Looks like whatever his little plan was, it backfired.
He grunts lost in thought, "Who exactly was Harvey Van Doren to you?"
Harvey Van Doren was my last straw.
I vowed to ruin his life when I am done with my little hitlist.
Death would be too kind for what he had done, I needed to meticulously destroy him.
His promises. His words. His actions. His everything.
It was like adopting a kitten whose been through hell, giving it a home, making it believe that it had finally had a safe space, and abandoning it by throwing it to the streets, leaving it to die. That's how I felt.
"Why do you even care Nikolai?"
He spoke with a strained hardness, "I care because I'm your fucking man and your heart belongs to me. I need to exactly what he has done or said to hurt what's mine."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"What if I say he owned my heart?"
Lies. Lies. Lies.
"I'll rip it apart from him, take it, and finish him, once and for all."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Why so murderous over my little old heart? Why so murderous over something that's not there? I lost my heart to that boy so heartless, ages ago."
Nikolai's eyes widened in intrigue, worry and something soft that I won't put a label on it.
"Don't be like this, you have the prettiest heart I've ever seen. I saw it myself that night, don't hide it from me, please precious."
Please.
We were once again at crossroads.
I could bare my mind, my body, and my soul to him, maybe it would be for the better.
I could run away and give him reasons to run away from me, maybe it would be for the better.
I chose the latter option because only an emotional fool would make the same mistake again.
It is far better to lead with the mind, rather than the heart.
I could feel my heart shatter once again and attempt to hide itself at my thoughts, in shame.
I drawled, "Nah, everyone, including your people say I'm heartless and I agree. I lost my heart the moment he declared his love to Serena Hills. So I suggest you find a loophole and focus on breaking this alliance as soon as possible."
I watched as his face twisted into an expression of despair, before it was completely concealed.
I let go of him and walked away from his embrace to go behind him, as he stared down so intensely I could hear the gears his mind turning, as I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his back and let out a low sigh.
"Don't try to psychoanalyze me. Forget everything you saw and felt that night, I am not your precious, I am Carla Rossi."
"Who are you desperately trying to prove that you are Carla Rossi?"
I frowned, "You, silly."
He whispered sternly, "You are not fooling me precious, I see right through you."
My guard rose up, as I spoke, my throat tightening, "Bullshit, if you did see right through me, you would not have treated me and talked to me as though it's my life mission to ruin you. You heard the rumors of me and bought it, without thinking twice. I never did that to you."
I was willing to give him, us the benefit of the doubt.
"So, whatever you heard about me, consider it to be the truth and back off."
He turned around, and I gazed at his loosened tie, unable to meet his intense gaze, as I spoke my truth and how I truly felt.
I finally looked at him and was taken back at the softness that pooled in his warm, green eyes, just for me. He looked at me, like he was mine and I was truly his, and that would be a dream come true under different circumstances.
My gaze hardened as I looked at the painting behind him and then back to him in warning and wariness, "Don't look at me like that, you do not have that privilege, you lost me."
He whispered softly, "Don't say that, precious."
"You lost your precious the minute you decided to throw a fit by completely forgetting the fact that I too, was forced into this. You disrespected and put me down, and I do not tolerate that."
He must have seen the way I found it hard to breathe, because he fervently pulled me closer and tucked me in his embrace.
"I know, baby, I know. I fucked up. Big time. I am so, so, fucking sorry."
This was bad, I cannot afford him to see right through me.
He should have pushed me away for this to work, not attempt to grovel for my love.
I am not going to let him grovel for my everything.
I scowled at his hard chest, "I do not know what game you are playing with me, but you can try as much as you can but you will not break me. I will not allow it."
He had no right to be so perfect and put together and disrupt my line of thoughts.
He kissed my forehead and breathed me in and spoke, his words muffled, "Not trying to break you, never want to hurt you. Only want what's best for my precious."
I let go and let out a chuckle at his drastic change in behavior. He was adamant on claiming me as his precious. I admitted in a soft, vulnerable tone, "I don't mind you deceiving me, Nikolai. In fact if you do it right, I might even fall for it in the future."
His eyes softened as he gave me a boyish grin, and I saw a glimmer of hope in those, warm green eyes, "Yeah?"
I stepped towards him and gave him a soft kiss under the shell of his ear, he shivered, and his hands tightened his hold on my waist, which slowly made it's way to squeeze my ass and firmly hold it, his rough, desperate touch never leaving.
I pulled away and brought my lips close to his, stealing his breaths away. His breathing turned ragged and harsh as he came forward to claim mine but I pulled away just in time and playfully flicked his forehead, he grunted. I giggled and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead, he again grunted and pulled me in closer like a caveman, if that was possible.
"Right now, in the mind space that I'm currently in, I wouldn't suggest playing mind games on me. I don't respond well to that, I assume my little sister would have mentioned that, if she cares about you."
He tensed, but nodded nonetheless. His hands never stopped kneading my ass, he held me with so much longing, as though touching me was the only thing that calmed him and brought him back to the brinks of sanity.
I smiled, "Now, shall we?"
His eyes twinkled in something akin to mischief, "Of course, I do have a proposal in mind for our situation."
I chucked and swatted his hands away from me, 'Perfect. Lead the way for me, darling. Let's be civil."
He grumbled something under his breath, but nonetheless led us, holding my hand.
It amazed how much we both slipped in and out of reality, so effortlessly and casually.
Like we've been doing this forever, running away from reality together, whenever we see fit.
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"Hi."
She muttered distractedly as she closely looked around, avoiding my eye contact.
"Hello, precious."
She rolled those gorgeous eyes of hers. I wanted to snatch her and place her adorable ass on my lap and give her reasons to roll her pretty doe eyes and cry pretty tears for me and break her apart. Then put her back together and kiss all her worries away and go on and on about how much she affects me in the best way possible, and how I'm a weak man just for her.
Not fucking yet.
I couldn't bear my heart to her, she would simply make a run for the hills.
I couldn't also pretend to hate her entire existence, maybe throw a snide comment here and there and even that would hurt my soul. I could not pretend to loathe her existence, she was slowly becoming my everything and that does not scare me one bit.
Only the idea of her not being mine, scared me endlessly.
I had to slowly lure her in, I had to give her time, suggest a plan that requires playing the long game on my side. A game of push and pull, teasing and edging. Resisting and tempting.
An illusion, where she falls deep down into the rabbit hole dug by me, becoming mine throughout the process. I could make this work if I use the right people, words and nudge her into the correct course of my plan.
She whispered and recalled our alliance, "I need time to process all this in, Nikolai."
I held my breath as I stared at her ardently, she was not resisting me anymore.
"Take your time precious, but I've thought about this, and my proposal is to fake it till we make it."
Big brown eyes widened in curiosity, "Oh?"
This is it.
"With our given situation, it's the only solution which makes perfect sense. We need to fool our parents, my people, the media, the paparazzi, everyone. We need to make it seem like we have reconciled in order for this to truly work. We can't afford to look weak."
She huffed adorably, "I suppose that does make sense. It's not mature to loathe each other's company and throw fits."
I suppressed a smile, "It makes perfect sense, precious. What do you say? Be mine for the show?"
She tilted her head, as her eyes took me in with a dreamy smile that weakened me.
I had it all figured it out.
Make her think it's all for show.
Make her believe that it's all fun and games.
When in reality, it's a façade to make her fall for me, and become mine.
Let her think she's mine only for the flashlights, when in reality I'll move the pieces of our game in a way which sends her running into my hands and claiming me as hers, when in reality it would have me that would have set the idea of us in motion.
All she has to do is exist and let me do my work, align the stars, place certain people in certain compromising positions in order to make her mine.
An effect of the dominoes cascaded in a line by me.
Her cheeks tinted with the prettiest shade of red I've ever laid my eyes upon, "It does, we are pretty complicated."
My eyes narrowed as she bit her bottom lip, "Yes, we are."
I wanted to kiss her endlessly.
I wanted to touch her endlessly.
I wanted to drown myself in her.
I wanted to worship her, claim her all over again and again.
That would be my definition of heaven and never ending bliss.
I yearned to hear her breathy moans, her raspy chuckles as she comes undone by me.
I longed to be inside her and remind her who she is forever tied to by invisible strings, cause I'm never letting her go.
I wanted to feel those sweet as fuck lips on mine, on my cock and all over my body as she ruins me forever.
"Should we lay down some ground rules?"
I immediately snap out of my thoughts, "Ground rules?"
She smiles, "Yes, like no kissing, no touching, blah blah blah."
Hold up.
Back the fuck up.
I grumbled, "And why the fuck can I not have your kisses, your body and your heart?"
Her blush deepened crimson red, "I-, because we are not real? This whole thing is fake right? Fake it till you make it?"
I raised my eyebrows with a small smirk, "Do you want this whole charade to be fake? Do you want me to fake being yours for the show?"
Her eyes hardened at my insinuation, "No, if you want me to accept this proposal, then I want exclusivity. If you have anything against that, I'm out."
My smirk dropped.
I'm out.
"I'm yours."
I panicked.
I spoke my truth so soon.
All because of my fear of losing her forever.
Her wide eyes took me in with such intensity and scrutiny, which left me with the insatiable need to bury myself into her sweet pussy and remind her to never second guess my intentions when it comes to her, whilst muttering sweet nothings only for her to hear.
She sighed, "I want you."
She has no idea how much her words affect me.
"I-I just, I don't want to take things too fast and ruin it, I have a reputation of doing that."
I saw that look in her eyes, the look that told me everything I needed to be told.
The look that made me have second thoughts for involving a certain motherfucker into my business. Maybe I got it all wrong, maybe he won't push her in my direction, but drive her away from me.
Maybe I am settling myself for failure.
The idea of her being his and never mine━
I practically growled my words out, "Why were you reminded of Harvey Van Doren?"
She flinched at his mention, and just like that I was this close to wiping out that fucker's existence.
She hissed out her words, "Why did you go out of your way to remind me of him? Memorizing his lines? Buying that painting? A little obsessive if you ask me."
I shook my head, "I needed to know the extent, because━"
She stilled, "What. Did. You. Do?"
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I managed to smiled, "I did not do anything, precious."
She gave me a look that told me she didn't believe me for one second, "Uh huh. Spill."
I shrugged and gazed out of my mansion, "He reached out to me and asked me a favor, and I simply obliged."
"Obliged to what?"
I didn't wish to meet her gaze, I knew she would find something in my eyes, this plan needed to work. I can't afford to let my emotions ruin the prospect of her being mine.
"He and his fiancée wanted to be there for our wedding, and be there throughout the process of it. The events, the parties, the functions, everything."
I was met with silence, which sent chills though my spine.
I ignored the goosebumps that raised, I didn't look up.
I looked out as I spoke, I didn't hide the displeasure in my tone.
"He wanted to be there."
Silence.
"Said you once meant a lot to him."
Nothing.
"Never wanted to miss this out for the world, apparently."
Slow and calculated intakes of air.
"I assume you two have history?"
I posed my question with as much as nonchalance as I could muster. But I wanted to know, every minute detail of her past. The idea of a person owning all of her, made me murderous for a spilt second.
"You had no fucking right."
I stilled at the promised darkness in her tone.
I slowly looked up and found myself shamelessly falling all over again like a masochistic sinner at the sight of the crazed look in her eyes.
Her eyes, they were no longer doe-eyed, something had shifted in the air, they seemed more sharp and lethal. They promised misery.
I decided to play with fire.
I taunted her, "I had no fucking right to do what, darling?"
She looked to be on the brinks of insanity.
"To involve him in my business."
My eyes widened at her tone as I titled my head.
"Believe me, I didn't get any pleasure out of it."
"You crossed the line, you could have just asked me before you did that."
My tone hardened, "He needs to be here."
Annoyance flared in her eyes, "Why?"
For him to see.
For the media to see.
For the entire world to see.
That you are no longer his, but mine.
To put an end to the twisted folklore.
I narrowed my eyes, "Closure."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in while she cracked her knuckles.
A sick, twisted part of me wanted her to use me like her fuck toy and let out all of her pent up rage rather than controlling it like a walking masterpiece.
She then slowly gets up, and walks towards me, swaying her hips sensually and bent forward and reached to grab my loosened tie. There was zero resistance from my side, I moved forward and stared into her eyes which promised me doom, but I was willing to drown just for her.
All traces of the precious I know was wiped out and instead I was in contact with the she devil I was supposed to loathe. But god fucking help me I could never despise her, only want her desperately.
In this moment, I realized that she could burn the whole world down and I would just help her speed up the process, if that was truly her wish.
She placed her hands on the desk, "Fake it till you make it. You wanna play games?"
I watched her intently in awe and intrigue as I observed a switch flipped in her, next thing I know, I was exposed to a siren who promised me nothing but absolute destruction with her skillful seduction.
This was the glimpse of my precious everyone had warned me about.
I wanted to provoke her, see what she was truly capable of, she was perfection, my perfection.
I smirked, "There's an event soon hosted by me, by us. To introduce us officially as a couple to the society. Harvey is to be expected there with his fiancée, Serena Hills. I hope that you would be on your best behavior, it would otherwise ruin the image that you've built."
She did not utter a word.
She did not move an inch, from a layman's perspective she gave away no signs of life in her unless you look closely into her and watch the subtle movements of her chest.
She just stared at me with an estranged look which will haunt me for a while.
Her lips begin to twitch not in a way to control her smiles or giggles, but to control her snarls.
She scoffed, "The audacity you have to act like this is baffling. You are giving me whiplash. For a second, I actually thought that you cared about me, how foolish of me."
My smirk fell apart and I my eyes widened at her statement.
How foolish of me.
"Don't get it twisted. I do care a great deal about you━"
"Shut the fuck up."
My breath hitched at the full fledged possessed gaze of her eyes which vowed to maliciously break me.
"I'm done listening."
Her eyes were shining in an ominous way, that continuously sent chills through me. She was talking to me, but it felt as though her words were meant to be heard by a specific group of people as well, and my name had just been added to the top of the list, in red, underlined.
My guess turned out to be right as she uttered her parting words like one would recite a poem, which left me unsettled, because one look at her troubled state, something told me that there would be a very real possibility of me burning the world I've meticulously built just for her, once I get through her and learn the names of the perpetrators who have ruined her.
"Let the games begin, however,
don't blame me for my behavior,
don't look so shocked or distraught
when all of you take the liberty of
bringing back my skeletons from the dead,
and drive me to the brinks of insanity."
With that being said, she left the room so swiftly as though she had seen a ghost, and I sat there with wide eyes.
Her cold, dead eyes.
Her pretentious smirks.
How quick she was to let down or pick up her façade.
The vicious minds that was working behind whatever façade she wished to throw at me.
All parts of her, they earned to tell me stories.
Stories I know would make my heavy heart and mind weep in grief and sadness.
Stories which would make me lose myself and rip apart the ones who had drained the goodness in her and instilled the notion that calculative manipulativeness would be the only way to survive.
I knew I was playing a dangerous game, the minute I saw it for myself.
As I recalled the dazed look in her heartless eyes, I saw a glimpse of a mad woman far gone.
What had my world done to her?
As I worriedly pondered over my precious's behavior, I got interrupted by a call, from Romano.
I picked it up, "Yes?"
Came in his calm voice, "We have a funeral to attend, brother."
I frowned, "Aldo Moretti's? I'm aware already."
"Another funeral along with Aldo's, brother."
I tensed.
"Who died now?"
"Federico Amos."
"The sought after mentor?"
"Si, that's the one who died."
I recalled, "Ah, Amos. I remember, his mother used to work for us, when I was a kid. He used to tag along with his mother."
I titled my head as I watched my precious stand in front of the limo I had assigned for her, as she too was in a call, she looked deranged.
Romano mused, "Is that so? The world is indeed a small place."
I hummed in agreement as I stared at her through my windows like a creep, "How did he die?"
"My men told me he had mistakenly set his whole house on fire and couldn't escape in time, he tried to grab a lot within short time. Guess he was attached to his life works too much to part away in time."
I tilted my head, as I watched her cut the call and hastily get inside the limo, "That's tragic."
Romano muttered, "Tragic indeed."
"Romano?"
"Yes, brother?"
"Since I can't get Federico's, I want a detailed autopsy report of Aldo Moretti."
A beat of silence, before came in his smooth, nonchalant response.
"May I know why you would need it?"
"These killings are a coincidence, anyone can point that out. As of now, I just want to know who's behind it all."
"I see, I'll get it to you as soon as possible."
The killer has an obvious agenda which is seen clearly through them targeting certain people. I'm not getting involved, just yet.
This feels like a personal hitlist, which is hard to track down, due to lack of connections between the victims.
I need to know if the killer's agenda is going to risk everything I've built, in the future.
If so, then I'll have no choice but to step in and destroy them before they destroy my world.
━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━
━ suri