• Amora, also known as The Temptress, is an internet sensation who pleases both men and women for money. After a heated night with one client, things take a wild turn when she finds him in her home.
One thing she never expected was finally facing h...
Trigger warning: this chapter contains mentions of abuse. Please read carefully and feel free to skip if needed ____________________
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My fingers absentmindedly trace the scar on my wrist as I stare off into space. Something that happens very often lately. And all because of one single man. The sound of keys jingling at the door snaps me out of it and I brace myself for this unwanted arrival.
Speak of the devil...
Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I don't turn to acknowledge his presence. I hear him take off his shoes before I feel him come up behind me, running his hands across my shoulders.
"Hey babe," he says, pressing a kiss against my cheek. I force out a smile as I turn my face to him, inwardly grimacing at the feel of his lips on my skin.
"Hey," I reply, watching silently as he shrugs off his jacket. Silence looms over us as he trudges over to the television and turns it on.
"Tristan?"
"Mhm?" He replies, flicking through the channels with the remote.
"Who's Tricia?"
There's silence for a bit before he answers me. "How do you know about Tricia?"
"She kept calling today."
He didn't like when I answered the home phone, but it wouldn't stop ringing. I grew tired and finally answered it and much to my surprise, it was another woman. She was surprised to hear my voice as well and hung up after learning my relationship to him.
Now, I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it was hard not to knowing the kind of man that Tristan was. Cheating was never an option for me. I absolutely loathe the act. But Tristan? I know he's more than capable of doing that and now I'm curious if he is.
He doesn't answer my question. I feel his anger almost too quickly and he is quick to storm over to me, his hand grabbing onto my chin roughly. "I thought I told you not to answer the goddamn phone, Amora."
"Well, maybe you should stop giving people the number for the house phone if you don't want me to answer it. You have a cell phone for a reason. Use it." The words fly out of my mouth before I have a chance to fully register what saying them would mean for my well being.
His hand connects with my face so hard I fall to the ground. My vision blurs for a moment and my ear starts to ring from the impact. I blink a few times as the pain starts flaring all over my face. I feel liquid trickling out of my nose and glance down to see my blood dripping onto me and on the floor.
Tristan's hand comes up to my hair and yanks it back harshly, making me face his furious gaze. There is no hint of remorse in his eyes. Just rage. A trait I was familiar with by now.
