"He would burn the world around him, but never let a flame touch her."
Arabella Karve
A dinner with the DuPont family is about as good as being skinned alive— while exchanging pleasantries. Between Diana saying anything she can in order to try and hurt me so that she can feed the endless pit of insecurity sitting under all the fake tan. And Mr. DuPont only speaking with me about taking over the business and finally being appointed to an arranged marriage— I will never survive tonight.
I was informed this morning—after Eros finally rolled off of me and I was able to move again—that we'll be having a black-tie dinner tonight at our manor with the Duponts, and a few other guests. Apparently, some foreign deal in Germany went assiduously, and my parents want to host a dinner in thanks to the DuPonts for helping sponsor the whole transaction.
And as the cherry on top, I heard that Dimitri Sokolov is one of the guests that will be attending tonight. No, I don't have anything against Dimitri. He is a very—charming person, but ever since that night at the club—
Sometimes when I'm alone I can still feel his forced touch on my body.
I know it was my fault just as much as his. I shouldn't have lied and drank so much. I shouldn't have gone into that room alone, then not fought against him harder. Yet whenever I am around him now, I feel— gross.
I shouldn't. Dimitri apologized and felt sincerely bad. But it was my first kiss, and I just feel like it was taken from me. I wish I could have saved it for someone— else.
Someone like Eros. My Eros.
God, I'm fucked. I am in love with someone like Eros Vandare. Someone who could never love me.
I take a deep breath as I look away from my book— needing a break— and glance out the window beside me.
Flowers, chirping birds, re-
"What the fuck?" I mumble under my breath while slowly shutting my book and placing it down beside me, half believing I am hallucinating. I sit up in confusion, staring out the bay window that faces the blooming garden, where the sun is casting a golden glow.
Flourishing greenery thrives throughout the garden, Ivy climbing up the marble pillars, and flowers blooming along the simple pathway. Everything is beautiful, and in place, except for the red rose— the one red rose—placed on the stone bench under the arbor.
We don't grow red roses in the garden. We don't have red roses in the house. Because everytime I see them all I can see is—
What kind of sick joke is someone playing?
Anger fogs my mind as I suddenly stand up from my seat and storm down the hallway in rage at the thought of someone putting a red rose on Tara's bench.
꧁꧂
"Come on, this is the most glorious spot on this entire estate, sit with me," Tara teases with a grin while dramatically draping herself over the bench.
"I would, but the glorious spot seems to be occupied," I say softly, a playful edge to my voice. She throws her head back with laughter while stretching out her legs across it, her bright purple dress matching the beauty of the garden.
"Tis' true, I guess your royalness is going to have to go find somewhere else to sit."
A small smile blooms on my face— for what feels like the first time in forever, "Well I'm glad you're comfortable, even though it's not your birthday."
"You thought I would give up my favorite spot just because you're seventeen today?" She scoffs with a smile, "never."
A branch cracks from behind me and I immediately flip around in fear, my heart leaping into my throat. A small bunny jumps out of the bush, sniffing the ground as I let out a shaky breath of pure relief.
He's not here. He's not going to get me.
"Ara?"
"Hm?" I turn back towards her and see that she is now sitting up with worry marks lining her face.
"Can we talk? Like actually talk," her blue eyes suddenly gloss over. "It would make sense you're having a hard time— after everything that's happened. But I'm worried about you. You don't look the same. You haven't looked the same since the party— last year."
She's seen the letters he's left me. She's seen the pictures and flowers and threats. She saw what he's capable of— what he did to my Grandma.
I don't know how I would look the same. I don't know if I'll ever look the same.
"Tara— can we not?"
"Please, talk to me Ara. I don't know how to help you. And I'm worried no one is going to be able to help you," tears begin falling as her voice cracks, and I realize just how much she's hurting.
"Just please," she whispers.
"I'm sad Tara," I say quietly, "I'm so sad."
I don't admit to her that there is a part of me that wishes Dominik would just finally end it.
"Come here," she says sadly, reaching out an arm. I immediately fall within her arms as she holds me tightly, "You know I will always be here for you Ara. You'll feel better one day."
꧁꧂
The memories flood my mind as my trembling hands throw open the garden doors, and for the first time in almost two years, I step into what used to be my sanctuary.
The garden.
My chest clenches as I rush down the pathway, and before I kn0w it, I make it to the bench that holds countless memories, good— and bad.
My hand wraps around the rose as I rip it off the bench, ignoring the way the ruthless thorns slice open the soft skin of my palm. I harshly crumple the rose, watching as the crimson petals drift to the floor, along with small drops of blood.
The flowers in this garden probably don't even know what it would be like to be nourished with water rather than blood.
The crushed rose falls away from me after a minute as I take ragged breaths, my senses slowly coming back to me.
I am in the garden.
I quickly take a step forward, needing to go back inside as tears sting the back of my eyes and the world comes crashing down upon me. I am about to take another, when I suddenly feel a gloved hand wrap around my forearm, harshly tugging me backwards.
A surprised scream leaves my lips as my back roughly smacks against a tall, slender body. I immediately flip around and push against the body, sending myself stumbling backwards, only to slam into another masculine body, bile rising in my throat.
Large hands immediately grasp my elbows, pinning my arms down at my side as I wildly thrash against them.
I look around in fear as my head pounds and one of the figures speaks, "I can't believe the bitch actually fell for it." Deep chuckling follows the man's words as four more men step into my line of vision.
I snap my head towards the garden doors and now notice the two lifeless sentinels that were posted at the garden doors, tilted up against the wall with blood pooling from their mouth that's drained of color. A choked cry breaks past me as I stare at the young men who were killed just because of me.
I didn't even notice them when I ran out.
My eyes dart towards the labyrinth of cameras placed around the garden, fear grasping my heart after seeing every single one of them completely shattered into pieces.
I push down the tears as my breath comes out as shallow gasps and I try to figure out what would be my smartest next move. The symbol tattooed on one of the men's necks catches my eyes— a small slavic star.
Dominik sent six of his men after me, and I walked right into their trap.
The garden is completely empty except for us— the closest sentinels are stationed all the way at the back gates so no matter how loud we are, the chances of them hearing me are slim— very fucking slim.
An ear piercing scream bubbles up my throat in hopes that even with the chances, someone will hear me— anyone will hear me. The man behind me switches both of my wrists forcefully into one of his hands, while his other hand tightly presses itself against my mouth.
"Goddamnit," he mumbles as he presses even harsher against my face, pain erupting at his touch. My chest tightens as his hand covers my mouth and nose, a panic attack slowly creeping up within me at the lack of air.
Breathe, I need to breathe.
I viciously bite down on the man's hand and he immediately grunts while pulling his hand away from me, "she fucking bit me."
As he is still caught off guardâ€" I smoothly lift up my foot and slam it backwards at full force, straight into his knee.
A yelp sounds from him and his hands immediately clunch his knee— allowing me to stumble away from his grasp— only to realize I am standing in the middle of all of them.
I take ragged breaths as my hands tremble uncontrollably. My dark hair tied back in a loose braid blow in the soft breeze, along with my pale blue sundress, as the men carefully move around me, looking ready to pounce any second.
"Oh, how I am going to enjoy watching Tsar Dominik destroy you," one of the men sneers ruthlessly. Scared tears fill my eyes as I struggle to take a deep breath. My breathing turns shaky as the man on my right is about to take a step towards me— when a menacing growl fills the garden, making the man completely freeze in fear,
"take one more step towards her. I fucking dare you."
My stomach drops to the floor at the unspoken, sinful promises concealed in the heartless words that fill my ears. I pull my eyes away from the man, and towards the garden doors, where a silhouette of pure darkness stands out amongst the vibrant colors, looking like a speck of night amongst the vivid world.
"Eros," I gasp breathlessly as the man stumbles away from me with wide eyes. Eros 's eyes snap towards mine, and his eyes roam over my entire body, looking for any sign of injury.
"T-that's him," the man gasps, fear drenched in every word as his wide eyes stay glued to Eros's muscular frame that's coated in formidable tattoos and dark clothes, that perfectly hug every inch of his figure.
I glance towards Eros's hand— now noticing the pistol tightly gripped within it. It's not even like he even needs it. Eros could kill them all with his bare hands if he wanted to, along with the multiple daggers I know he has strapped to him.
"Fucking leave, and maybe we will spare you," another braver man says, but I don't miss the slight tremble concealed in his voice.
A dark calm settles over Eros', almost more terrifying than any visible anger he could display.
"I'm not the one who should be worried about being spared."
All the men turn even more— impossibly— still. I use the distraction to quickly shove past the bulky man standing in front of me— immediately running towards Eros. A look of hidden relief shines within his ice cold eyes as I break free.
The moment I reach him he immediately places one of his large hands on my hip, protectively pushing me behind him and hiding me away from all the men's eyes. Eros's hand tightens around my hip, almost as if he is scared the second that he lets go, I will disappear.
"Go to your room Bella and lock your door," Eros's deep voice fills my ears and I shake my head in response. He doesn't dare look away from the men as a murderous look masks his cold features, sending a shiver down my spine.
"No, I'm not leaving you alone—"
"It wasn't a suggestion," he growls quietly, a prominent muscle feathering in his jaw.
I open my mouth to argue as tears fill my eyes, thinking of the possibility of something happening to Eros.
"Now," he cuts me off darkly, reminding me of how someone would speak to a child.
What is he going to do?
I glance towards the dead bodies, to the men, and then back to Eros— back to the man I love. I let out an angry, shaky breath before I take a step back, pulling away from Eros's touch as the men pull out their guns.
Eros clenches the hand that was just on my waist, and I try to catch his eyes, begging for him to look at me so that he can see how much I want him to let me stay with him, to help— but he doesn't.
My bottom lip quivers before I turn around, and without looking back run out of the garden, leaving behind the good memories and the bad, along with Eros. The setting sun illuminates the golden doors as I pull them open and run into the house, slamming the doors shut behind me.
The second the doors shut, yelling erupts from outside of them.
My mind races faster than my legs as I fly into my fathers office, my breathing a ragged mess, "h-his men, they are in the garden. E-eros he is-'' I gasp out.
My mother looks up at me with wide eyes, before it registers to her what I said. She instantly shoots up from my fathers chair, dropping a pile of papers to the ground, before looking towards the guard placed outside of the room, "You heard her! Go!"
Her shouts fill the room— along with the guards' frantic footsteps— as I look around, not seeing my father anywhere. Most days he spends in the business warehouses doing whatever illegal trafficking he does, but for my mother to be in here, rummaging through his desk—
"Please don't let them hurt him," I cry out to one of the guards as they rush out of the room, smoothly drawing their gun.
I ignore the way my mother stares at me, her cunningly cold eyes looking as if they just solved the last piece to a puzzle.
But right now, I don't care to try and figure out whatever she is thinking about.
I am scared for Eros, scared with every bone within me, yet somehow, I am more scared for whatever Eros is capable of doing to those men.
Because no matter who I think he is, Eros Vandare is famous for being cruel, sadistic, and completely unmerciful.
꧁꧂
I slowly slide on the satin white mini dress, blankly staring into the mirror and watching as the material softly hugs each of my curves. I take a deep breath and run my hand through my loosely curled hair, glancing over to the clock to see it is already almost seven.
It's been over half an hour since I left the garden. Over twenty minutes since my mom interrogated me and then forced me to go back upstairs and get ready for dinner.
Nausea fills my stomach as I set down the lipstick on my dresser and stare into my reflection, studying my glossy brown eyes that are outlined by dark eyeliner.
He's okay. He has to be okay.
A quiet meow suddenly snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts and my features soften as I look down, seeing Montague softly brushing up against my calf. A soft laugh escapes me as I carefully bend down and scoop him up into my arms.
I bury my face into his black fur, and take deep breaths— when my heart suddenly stops, hearing my bedroom door slowly creak open, the haunting sound reverberating deep within my bones.
I immediately snap my head up towards the door as Montague jumps from my arms— and the world around me stops at the figure standing in my doorway.
Eros coldly steps into the room, shutting and locking the door behind him as my heart sounds like the pounding of drums within my ears. The room instantly becomes smaller from the size of Eros's powerful body, and I almost feel suffocated by the dark and murderous atmosphere surrounding Eros, like the stars do the night.
"I told you to lock your door Arabella."
I can barely hear him over the deafening pounding in my blood, as I stare in pure disbelief at his once white oxford shirt, and then his chest, his hands that are decorated in the alluring veins, his neck, his jaw— they're are all covered in dark crimson blood.
So. much. blood.
The ruby color is splattered against his golden skin, and the expensive clothes. It's adorned across the beautiful face that I admire the moment I wake up, and in the moments before I fall asleep.
It's painted across him as though he is a maestros's final canvas, making him look like a deadly, vicious God of death that kills without remorse, crafted from the dark depths of night itself.
I almost hate myself for the way my core heats at the hauntingly gorgeous beauty that stands in front of me— somehow making my blood run cold, yet warmer than ever before.
"What— Eros?" My voice comes out as a breathless whisper, a soft tremble ringing within my nervous words as I search him for answers. My eyes desperately look over every inch of him, panicking over the possibility of it being his own blood. They had guns, and I'm sure other weapons. God if he's hurt I don't even know what I'd do, I would never forgive myself—
"It's not mine," his deep voice pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts, not a trace of regret found within his eyes. Only frozen anger dancing deep within them, along with an unrecognizable shadow of something else— something dark and unholy, as he takes in every detail of me, from my dark red lips, to my heeled feet.
I want to cry out in relief at his words, yet my mouth doesn't move, can't move. I want to run across the room to him, to feel him in my arms and make sure he's truly okay, yet something keeps my feet grounded in place.
"W-what did you do?" The quiet words fall from my lips, that are colored the same as the sinful gore coating the man who saved my life.
"They ran, and I caught them," his voice is sadistically emotionless as he stares at me through hooded eyes, and I can't help the foreign sensation that courses through my
stomach.
"What did you do, Eros?"
"I watched them try to fucking take you," his jaw tightens darkly, "so then I watched as the life drained from each of their pathetic fucking eyes, slowly."
Everything in my body completely freezes as my shaky breathing turns shallow, suffocated by my stirring emotions, "do you know how stupid that was?"
"What?
"Do you know how stupid that was?" I repeat.
Eros's gaze shifts into a threatening glare, "please, indulge me." His sinister snarl sends a cold shiver down my spine. Yet, for some reason I'm not scared.
I don't think I could ever be scared of Eros.
"It was really fucking stupid," I scoff angrily, the shock slowly fading away and being replaced by boiling anger, "you just slaughtered the men who had entail on our enemies. You just gutted our leverage outside in the fucking garden Eros!" My voice raises uncontrollably, "we would have had a chance if you would have just kept one— one— of them alive!"
"You're yelling at me, after what they tried to do to you? You're fucking angry?" Disbelief lines his face, only making me more angry and confused.
"Yes I fucking am! And I have every right to be!"
"God the audacity," he shakes his head slowly.
"You're fucking audacity! You had no reason to do that!"
"Sei la mia fottuta ragione."
"You had no reason to have fucking killed them all! So why did you Eros?!" I run my hands through my hair, "what the hell were you even thinking!?"
I can't stop as the word vomit spills from my mouth in the form of cruel and careless words— until I am suddenly cut off by Eros's terrifyingly soft voice, making my mouth instantly close.
"You want to know what I was thinking?" he growls, the deadly noise making me almost want to take a step back as he takes a graceful— yet ruthless— step towards me.
I open my mouth to give a snarky response, but I am immediately interrupted once again—
"I was blinded with fucking rage at the thought of anyone ever trying to lay a goddamned hand on you," he reaches me, and I crane my neck up, swallowing nervously as he towers over me, glaring down darkly, "because I loose all my fucking self restraint at the idea of anything ever happening to you."
His eyes burn holes into me as I adjust to what Eros is saying.
A shudder runs through my body as Eros's voice raises for the first time since I've known him, his control slowly snapping.
"And you want to know why? Because I am so fucking in love with you Arabella Karve. I've never loved one goddamn thing in this world, yet I've been falling in love with you since the day we met and you told me that you wish that I was dead. God," he exhales sharply.
"I've watched for months as you've hated me with every beautiful fucking bone in your body. I've gone to war with myself over and over again, convincing myself that I hate you, because it hurt so fucking bad," a muscle feathers in his jaw, "yet I would do it all over again— a million times— just to be with you."
"And if you still hate me," he scoffs and shakes his head, "I will spend, every second of everyday waiting for you, because you're fucking it for me. And as long as you feel something for me, hate or not— I will die the happiest fucking man to ever exist, because at least you felt something."
"So that's what I was thinking, and that's why I did it. And guess what, I would do it again, but slower."
The world spins around me and I blink rapidly, pushing back the burning sensation stinging the backs of my eyes. My blood courses through me like a raging, uncontrollable river as I let the words sink, trying to decipher if this moment is just another one of the cruel pranks that the universe loves to play on me.
Eros stares at me with wild, harsh eyes, no signs of humor within the frost. Just pure and raw love. Behind the mask of coldness and harshness, there is a sense of vulnerability buried within them as they search my face, waiting for a response, a movement, a sign— anything.
After a few seconds I slowly open my, managing a thoughtless response as I still process his words, "w-well, it was s-still thoughtless, and rash, a-and—"
"Fuck it."
The next thing I know, one of Eros's hands tightly grasps the back of my neck, entangling itself into my long hair, while placing his other on my hip. I let out a soft gasp at the sudden contact, before it is suddenly consumed by Eros as his lips smash against mine.
The shock quickly fades and I immediately melt into him, my hands grasping the front of his bloody shirt as his lips move desperately against mine, as if I am the air he breathes— as if I am his last breath.
I feel the blood staining his hands embed itself into my hair— my white dress. But it doesn't matter— nothing matters— except for Eros's lips against mine, molding us into one, and expressing something that words never could.
A moan falls from my lips as his hand tightens in my hair, tilting my head farther back in order to taste me more— closer. Eros doesn't wait a second, immediately using the chance of my parted lips to slide his tongue in, taking over my mouth and knocking the breath from my lungs.
He tastes like everything I've ever wanted— everything dark and vile, yet more extraordinary than anything that will ever be considered good.
Like an endless starry night and memorizing waves crashing against the deadly sea, luring the world around it into its inevitable doom. Like a strike of powerful lightning cracking across the undisturbed sky, igniting everything around it.
Violent, beautiful, dark, addictive.
My core drenches with heat as I try to copy his actions, but he immediately overpowers me, leaving me a desperate mess, begging for more.
I feel my lungs tighten and I reluctantly pull away, gasping for air. His lips don't leave my skin as he begins leaving sloppy kisses across my jaw, sucking and worshiping the sensitive skin, as if I am a deity myself.
A breathless moan sounds from me, his lips moving down my neck as I struggle to catch my breath. His hand softly pulls on my hair in response, and my legs thoughtlessly clench together, as if that will stop the throbbing between them.
His lips hungrily trace my body, moving down to my collarbone, where I tilt my head back and let out a deep moan at the magical feeling of his lips.
"E-Eros?" I gasp as a thought past his body against mine sits at the forefront of my mind.
Eros lets out a throaty hum in response— still devoted to the skin of my collarbone— sending a tremble through my aching body.
"Did you— did you like killing them?" I gasp through soft moans, my eyes clenched shut.
He lays a soft, sweet kiss to my collarbone, "of course not baby."
Then his lips are greedily back on mine, fiercely stealing the words off my tongue before he slowly pulls back for a swift second, his warm breath fanning my lips that are still faintly touching his, "I loved it."
A shiver runs down my spine at the sadistic words, yet that doesn't stop me from finding his lips again, wildly needing to feel him.
He immediately obliges as his hand resting on hip, slowly slides down to the back of my thigh—
The sound of the door handle jiggling immediately brings me back to reality, as I instantly pull away from Eros, who has a grim expression plastered on his face— aimed at whoever is on the other side of the door.
The cold air bites at my skin at the lack of his warmth, and I slowly let go of his shirt.
"Arabella! You need to get down to dinner right this second!" My fathers apprentice barks angrily from the other side of the door. Eros exhales slowly while carefully releasing my hair, but not before softly pecking my lips in a simple, loving action.
My heart flutters as I breathe shallowly, watching as Eros walks towards the door, harshly pulling open the door. A dark glare settles on Eros's face and I struggle to keep the smile of my face as the apprentice visibly recoils as his eyes look over Eros's bloody figure.
"Ever try to barge into her room like that again, and me and you will have a fucking problem."
The apprentice nods rapidly before Eros forcefully shoves past him, coldly walking down the hall. I stare at his retreating figure, watching as he disappears and the warmth in my stomach goes with him.
I ignore the apprentice as he openly stares at me, rapidly glancing from the bloody handprint staining my ruined dress, to the smudged red lipstick painted on my swollen lips. I glare emotionlessly, trying to hide the butterflies erupting in my stomach.
"Mention anything to anyone, and Eros will make sure it's the last thing you ever mention."
"You are brainless if you think getting involved with that— monster, is a good idea," he sneers.
I smile, "too late."
꧁꧂
HOPE YOU ENJOYED! PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT!
What are you thinking so far??
Word count: 4762