This chapter contains extreme self-harm, if such affects you, please skip💙💙💙💙💙
Listen to 'Chandelier' by Sia
The end of the world came on a Tuesday evening.
Actually, let me rephrase that, the end of my world came on a windy, Tuesday evening. I had my lunch break with JT and we had gone back to his workshop to do some more work on the sculpture. The blind man had started carving me out of wood after we had completed the rough work on clay.
Sometimes, being around Gerard and JT made me feel untalented. They were both so overwhelming.
I was currently leading JT to my office to retrieve some files I had forgotten before we headed back to the penthouse for movie night(don't question me it was his idea, I wanted to do something that didn't require vision). His huge arm was draped over my shoulder, the other hand holding the walking stick.
"Dude, you know you could have waited for me in the car," I told him, trying to sound annoyed. I really couldn't actually get mad at him, I liked him that much. He was dressed casually in a black, muscle tee and jeans with his usual shades hiding his chocolate orbs.
"I could have," he began, squeezing my shoulder warmly, a little smile playing on his slightly chapped, pink lips. "But where's the fun in that?"
"This." I gestured between us even though I knew he couldn't see it but I suspected that he probably knew what I was trying to do. "Stopped being fun when you tried to jab me in the eye with that carving knife."
"How was I supposed to know you'd be dumb enough to jump on my back when I was working with a freaking knife?"
"It was one of those, it seemed like a good idea at the time moments, " I defended, waving at my secretary, Dora as we walked past her. He chuckled softly, reaching over to ruffle my hair and murmur a few words in Italian.
My relationship with JT was straightforward with no complications while with Gerard, it felt dangerous and intriguing, kind of like being consumed by flames, the good kind of flames. I sighed, remembering that he had travelled yet again this morning and I had no inkling of when he would be back from England. He had mentioned going to see his aunt and working for some Duchess.
"Sit here and wait for me." I helped him onto the couch and stood there just to admire his looks. Sometimes, I could pick who was more breathtaking between them, but Gerard definitely had a better shot at winning with those heart-tugging dimples etched onto his cheeks but that was just my opinion.
"Bella," he sighed, clasping his fingers. Sometimes, he called me that and I assumed it was because it meant beautiful in Italian. "I'm blind, not five. Stumbling around your office does not sound particularly pleasing."
The strange part was that I loved the nickname, especially the way he pronounced it with his accent.
"You weren't saying that when you wanted me to buy you ice cream thirty minutes ago." I was searching my desk for the files I placed there earlier today and almost slapped myself when I remembered that I had told Dora to take it to my father-in-law's table.
"I'm not the same person I was then, babe."
"Right." I frowned, without looking at him. "I'm coming, JT, the file is not here," I informed, bending down to retie the laces of my Converse.
"Bella, take your time," he murmured, his fingers tracing the glass ball placed as decoration on my coffee table. "Also, I think you should probably go tighten the tap in the bathroom, it's dripping."
I didn't even doubt him once before going to check and finding the water dripping out steadily. I had come to accept and respect JT's supernatural senses. I walked out of my office, with my boss' office as my destination and took a deep breath before knocking twice.
I heard Mr White's voice instructing me to come in and cracked open the door slowly. My husband's father was sitting behind his desk, reclining in his chair and directing all his attention to the man sitting right in front of him. I could remember he had once told me he always wanted Gerard to have a change of mind and join the company but the good Lord had provided another child as capable in the form of me.
Both my husband's parents loved me so much.
I observed the back of the black-haired man and felt an ominous dark feeling creep over me, enveloping my soul and all that encapsulated my entire being. It was pure evil. I had felt this feeling only when one particular person was around.
No! It couldn't be!
I had a feeling that I already knew the man sitting on the chair opposite my father-in-law. I wondered if I could turn and run away fast enough but Mr White had already seen and acknowledged my presence.
"Rina, honey," Randall began, shifting his eyes from the stranger and smiling at me, his eyes crinkling at the edges with smile lines appearing. "What brings you here?"
"I think Dora might have brought those uncompleted Quin forms you told me to fill out, so I came to get them."
"Oh," he stroked his chin thoughtfully as if trying to recollect something. "I think she placed them in the file cabinet, feel free to check."
"Yes sir." I went over to the cabinet at the edge of the room finding it odd that the stranger had not once turned to face me, if it was who I thought it was, he knew me well too. From my corner, I observed the man, I could only see his long, black hair and clean-cut black suit. I shook off the heavy pain developing in my chest due to the presence of the man and tried to focus on the blue folder I was supposed to be searching for.
"It's not here, Dad," I called out after a minute, reaching up to scratch my head. He had long since told me to refer to him like that, I did it so naturally now. "I can come check for it tomorrow, it's fine."
"Really? Don't bother, we'll find it now." He sounded puzzled, standing up and staring down at his Mac book like it held the whereabouts of the file. "I'll go see Monte and see what he has to say about it. Meanwhile, I don't think you've met Mr Clements, our new project manager."
The strange man stood up, with his back still to me and I noted how tall he was. I confirmed his identity a split second before he turned and my blood ran cold.
My scar burnt and my body felt like it was weighed down by pounds of lead, my voicebox felt like it had shrivelled. I felt like I was watching myself from the bottom of a microscope and I longed to drop the hand that was reaching out impulsively to receive the tall man's handshake.
"The younger Mrs White, it's quite an honour to meet you," he said, a lazy smile forming on his lips and black, malicious eyes gleaming. "I've heard so very much about you."
I took the hand he extended and gripped in a brief shake, not missing how his hand lingered in mine on purpose. I retracted my hand as if burnt and wiped it on my black, flare skirt, still shivering.
"I'll be back," Randall stated, leaving the office and probably going after the case of the missing file. The tall man stared down at me, chuckled then went over to sit on Randall's chair, like he owned the place.
"Well. Well. Well. We meet again, my dear." He clapped after each word as if to add dramatic effect. "You sure have changed, Karina." His eyes raked down my body as I shook in what could be described as a combination of rage and fear. "Can't say I'm surprised, you've always been quite a beauty."
"Like your mother." He said these last words slowly and I felt all the energy that had been sapped out earlier at his sight, slowly return. I felt my voicebox regain its functions.
"Shut up. Don't speak to me like that!" I spat out, noticing how little he had changed, the sallow, pale white skin was still present and the only noticeable change was the long, thin scar below his left eye. He was still the same lowlife, child abuser that my mom had worshipped and I felt the urge to smash something on his face. "Get out, Boss!"
"How interesting, the silent Karina talks now." He gave a short laugh which clearly didn't reach his eyes. "However, I don't go by the name Boss anymore, dear. My name's Richard, dear. Always has been."
"What do you want?" My voice shook and I discovered that my palms had bruised from the force at which I was digging my nails into them. "Why are you here, you better get up and leave now before I tell everyone what you are."
He studied me for a second before getting up. "Now don't take that tone, sweet lips. I'm a changed man now and your rich old man is paying me big bucks to work for him. Surely we can be friends--" he lowered his voice, leaning down to whisper in my ear. "--and forget the good old days, pretend it never happened."
"You're a lunatic if you think I'm going to forget what happened between us!" I moved backwards to put some space between us. "I'm going to expose you if you don't leave," I threatened, trying to at least, scare him.
"I said I'm sorry, honey. Besides, how are you going to prove anything?" He was laughing at me, following every step I took backwards and soon he had my back to the wall. "We just met, I don't fucking know you, you're lying."
"I'm lying?" I choked out, unable to even believe those words. "That you and your gang members violated me several times? You all used me, you took advantage of--"
"Lies. No one will believe you, dear," he told me kindly. "You'll just drag your new family in the mud if you keep up with this nonsense. Baseless accusations."
"You're wrong, my accusations aren't baseless, I have proof, I still have the pictures," I said, getting my desired effect almost immediately and my tone getting higher. "She lied about destroying them, she couldn't find them because I stole them."
His pale skin turned even paler and his eyes popped out, a vein threatening to rupture in his neck. His hands trembled and his eyes seemed to dart around the room as if they were looking for any available exit. Now he was scared too, he looked like he had seen a ghost.
"I have all those pictures mom took of you and me, with all those other bastards," I rode on, bravely. "I stole it from her safe, and I'm going to expose you for what you--"
My sentence was cut short by a resounding crack, I heard it before even feeling the sting on my cheek. The shock was even more than the pain I felt.
Boss had slapped me.
I raised a hand to gingerly feel my cheek, the tears I hadn't shed for so long threatening to spill and betray my so-called courageous act. Suicide before these tears fall down my eyes.
"You slapped me," I said, slowly my teeth biting down on my lower lip. I blinked rapidly to prevent any tears from escaping, I hadn't shed a single tear in thirteen years and it was going to stay that way. "You actually slapped me."
"Darn right I did!" He barked, his long, yellow fingernailed hands going to his black hair and pulling at it. "You're not going to ruin everything I've worked so hard to build with some goddamned pictures!"
He was pacing now while I still had my hand on my cheek, an intense rage and hatred flooding out from me.
"Why am I even worried?" He seemed to be asking himself, now stopping mid-pace and glaring at me with those black, soulless eyes. "Cunning Debra obviously took those pictures to blackmail me, but you, my dear Karina, won't show anyone."
He was smiling now, making me remember the different occasions when he had forced himself on me and I silently accepted because I was scared of mom. I was scared of everything, I was so young and naive, so innocent.
"You want to know why I'm sure you won't tell?" He paused. "One, if you wanted to expose me so much as you claim, why wait all these years? You'd have done it since. So why did you wait, dear?"
He didn't wait for my reply, only moved closer to me and cupped my face with his disgusting hands. The numerous rings he always wore digging into my chin and making me wince. I didn't have a reply for him, but we both knew the answer already.
"Because, you're a coward, Karina." He whispered. "You always have been."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You're a coward.
I was a coward.
I was a coward.
Those were the words still ringing in my ears as I entered the dark, empty penthouse alone, I had cancelled my plans with an extremely concerned JT and even snapped at him when he tried to question me.
I felt bad for hurting him when all he did was care about me, but then again, when did I start caring about hurting people's feelings. I was supposed to live up to my cold, heartless image. I was a heartless bastard, Boss had made me that way.
I tossed off my sneakers and got rid of my clothes, leaving me in only my blue underwear which wasn't exactly designed for covering much up. Boss was right, I was a coward and that was the reason why I still felt this pent up frustration and pain at the world.
I was angry.
At my useless excuse of a mother who allowed her daughter to undergo sexual abuse and was powerless over it because of her monetary gain.
At my father for using work to hide whatever was wrong with their marriage.
At Boss and every one of his lackeys that used me, that used my body as a plaything. I was sick, disgusted and revolted with myself and my body. They had made me this way, they made me this sex crazed addict, this maniac that couldn't say no to a man. I was a very sick woman, therapy and drugs could only hide so much.
Lastly, I was most angry at myself for being a fucking coward and sitting there accepting all life threw my way. Not being able to fight, it was sad. Well, not anymore, I was going to end all the suffering. I stormed off to my room, searching through my things and grunting when I laid out the items before me.
The shoebox containing the incriminating pictures.
A pack of cigarettes.
A bottle of vodka.
I rushed to the kitchen and came back with the last item I needed; a butter knife. I laid these items on the bed, my arms akimbo and head spinning as I thought it through. It was the only way out, I thought bitterly, remembering the number of times I had cut myself like my mom used to, wanting a release from the pain. I stopped only after Lance had enrolled me in therapy.
I looked in the full-length mirror and saw a splitting image of my mother staring back at me, sick and revolting. I hated it, I hated it so much.
"Fuck it," I grunted, opening the vodka and drinking straight from the bottle. I closed my eyes briefly, the alcohol hitting my system and I could have sworn that I heard my phone ring in the distance.
Fuck whoever's calling, I thought reaching for my lighter and a cigarette stick. I lit it up and soon, I was on the floor, my back against the bed with smoke drifting out of my mouth and nostrils. My thoughts drifted off to The Jade-Eyed Bastard and the weird feeling being with him always gave me and I almost wanted to run off to him, to call him and tell him I was in so much pain.
Almost.
I staggered up, opening the shoebox and seeing those disgusting pictures once again, I wanted to be free of it all. I looked in the mirror and gently slid off my underwear and was soon standing completely naked.
The girl in the mirror looked so unhappy and I wanted to help. I would do a good deed and finally, help out someone.
I staggered off to the bathroom with pictures, vodka, my knife and cigarette dangling from my lips and turned on the water for the hot tub and lazily watched it fill up with the hot water.
I wanted to feel the burn.
Feel it consume me and take me away.
Testing the temperature with my feet, I climbed in and moaned in painful satisfaction as the hot water seared my skin, scalding it. In a way, I enjoyed pain, it was therapeutic, the feeling of anguish being the only thing racing through your mind with every other feeling rendered unimportant. I tried to take the bottle to my lips, already feeling woozy and heard the smash of the bottle but couldn't care less about it.
It was all going to end soon enough.
I scattered the pictures on the floor and almost laughed at the irony that I was the only one at home, it was perfect. I didn't want anyone stopping me. Picking up the knife, I positioned it over the old scar on my left forearm like my mom always did. Like I continued doing.
This was just a reminder.
I brought the knife down.
I heard screaming which felt foreign come out of my mouth like I was hearing another woman's scream as I brought the knife down again onto the same spot, going deeper than I should have. Again and again, until I couldn't take it anymore.
I sat there waiting for death, with pain the only important feeling in the world and observing how the clear bathwater was gradually changing from a light pink colour into darker shades.
***
So, that was that. Thoughts on the chapter are always welcome;)
Vote. Comment. Share.❤