His Bloody Smile | ✓

21 - call

"broke my heart and i learned my lesson"

•••

I gently opened my eyes and tried to move my hands, but they were bound behind my back. Remembering the last thing that happened, I glanced down at myself.

My dress was ripped, and my bare feet were tied with a thick rope to the metal chair I was sitting on. The holster on my thigh was still there, empty, of course. Turning my head, I began to inspect my surroundings, trying to orient myself.

The room I was trapped in had a large window overlooking Las Vegas, and the sky was dark, reassuring me that I had not been unconscious for too long. A couple of empty desks scattered around the place made it look like an office, and there was a door in front of me.

One of the tables I spotted was displaying my dagger, the gun, and my shoes. Even if I hurried and dragged myself to it, I knew I would not make it; it was too far away from me.

The lights were blinding, but I tried to get accustomed to them as soon as possible. The door suddenly swung open, and Christopher sauntered in, wearing the same suit as before with a smile on his face.

God, he was such a traitor. And I knew this was mostly my fault for ignoring my instincts, but Christopher was the betrayer in my eyes. His looks had deceived me, and I had been fool enough to believe in them.

"Motherfucker," I mumbled, "What do you want from me?"

"Oh," he said, speaking to me with inferiority, "You're awake." I gritted my teeth, rolling my eyes.

I despised it when anyone did that to me.

"Why am I here?" I asked, quietly seething.

"Well," he approached me, messing up his blonde hair, "I have a surprise for you." Christopher gripped my chin with his hand, "I want to introduce you to my boss."

"I do not give a fuck about your boss," I spat, "Let me go."

"We both know I can't do that," he replied, smirking as he took his arm back, "But I think you are going to be thrilled to meet him."

He moved aside, making me notice someone standing by the door. The man stepped into the room, the white lights revealing his scarred face. I gasped and tried to push the chair back, but it was useless; it would not budge.

"Sabrina Rhodes," he stated, "It's been a while, hasn't it?" His ginger buzz cut exposed his blue eyes as he contemplated me, a grin playing at his lips. A scar crossed his entire face, and parts of it were splattered by his hundreds of freckles.

I breathed several times as I tried to calm down my racing heart. Pulling my mouth into a straight line, I tilted my head upwards to meet his gaze.

"Hello, Oliver," I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking.

"How have you been, babe?" he asked, smiling.

Oliver was wearing a formal white shirt and dark trousers, tugging me back to all the galas we attended together. How he used to haul me violently towards his body by my waist, lashing out on jealousy.

"Do not call me that," I ordered, "What do you want?"

"Ah, straight to the point," Oliver commented, "I've always loved that about you." He crossed his arms over his chest. "So, let me beat around the bush too." His smile faded as he walked towards me, "My life has been fucking hell after you locked me up in prison, Sabrina."

"I-"

"Don't," he cut me off, "I don't want your excuses."

"But I-"