ANGEL
He infuriated me ever since our first encounter.
I admired his looks and patience he had while holding me hostage. But as the months followed up, our hate towards one another bloomed.
So much, that the ashes inside of me bloomed as well.
LUK...
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I've never understood the meaning of cutting the tension with a knife. I do now, and it wouldn't be with a fucking knife, but with a fucking chainsaw.
Breakfast is as tense and awkward as dinner last night, and I was in the dinning room for only two minutes before heading to the guest bedroom Lukas said I would be staying.
I took the best shower of my life, it never felt so good after such tragic events.
But right now, I'm planning on simply leaving and heading home.
These guys won't take care of me, no one ever did, and it won't be now that I tried to kill their boss.
Speaking of which... I think Lukas is crazy.
Why have me in his house when he knew my intentions?
"Wasn't she the girl who escaped away weeks ago?" One of the guys mumbles to other at the end of the table.
His deep voice makes it easier to hear. Dumbass.
"I was. But I missed mister British pussy here, and came back." I smirk at Steve who's glaring at me. "Shut the fuck up." He growls, I raise my hands in the air.
"Calm down mate, just playing."
The guys around the table chuckle, but quiet down as soon as he glares at them.
"You and you, my office." Lukas approaches the kitchen, saying pointing to me and pussy Steve.
That nickname will do. I decided it now.
We walk behind him, and I think of tripping pussy Steve, but go against it.
Too much jokes for only a morning. I'll save them for later.
We climb up the stairs, as I still silently gawk at the house interior. Everything is so beautiful and big to the eye.
What is expected, being Lukas who he is.
Entering his office on the second floor of the house, I look around the dark wood shelves, the books and file covers on the shelf behind his desk and his red leather chair, the enormous space in the front of his desk with two red armchairs, and two black chairs at the side of his office.
All well decorated just like the rest of the mansion.
"Give me your address, Steve will pick whatever you want." Lukas says seating on his chair, I scoff. "Hell no, this pussy won't step foot on my house."
"Fuck you, red."
I give him a tight lip smile. "With pleasure."
"What if I call a woman?" Lukas sighs, interrupting whatever Steve pussy was going to say. "No. No one steps foot inside my house without me. Not even Barack Obama."
Moretti pinches the bridge of his nose and breaths deeply before looking up again with those annoyingly beautiful eyes.
"Fine. Steve tell Laura I'll be back soon." He grumbles, getting up and grabbing some keys.
