The Neighbourhood - Fallen Star
𝔚𝔚𝔚
CelinaThere were three main stages to this overwhelming sense of grief I'd begun to feel since I'd decided my father was dead to me.
One - immediate, irrational anger. One that formed after I'd wallowed in a pool of self pity, hating the hand life had dealt me.
Two - a simmered down anger, this one immensely lethal, where my brain had begun to conjure up violent images that involved me slaughtering Silvio Ademaro and his perfect little family.
Three - hatred in its purest form. An animosity so deep, i'd begin plotting the demise of every single person involved in what I now considered treachery.
A crime punishable by death. And something I vowed to make every single person involved pay for by drowning them in the so called blood we shared.
Perhaps it's anticlimactic, or not as creative as I'd hoped, but it's all my numb mind could come up with and that was after I'd drowned my sorrows in an endless bottle of Brandy.
I didn't even like liquor, nor did I like walking as much as I'd been doing all night but it seems my ability to feel, had long ago maxed out because here I was, miles from the city, staring up at those hellish gates I'd escaped through hours ago.
The early morning sun blares directly into my eyes, crickets cry in the trees surrounding the gates, and I stare directly into the cameras, awaiting the gates, that eventually open on their own.
There are very few guards that I encounter on my way inside, but the ones that I do see aren't surprised, acting as though they'd be expecting me.
As though they'd been told so.
Even that realization, one that would normally drive me into a complete fit of madness led by humiliation, doesn't.
I'd thrown in my flag, admitted defeat all the while Adrik Koslov was probably counting down the hours until I proved his point.
He'd studied my nature, gotten me where he wanted and backed me into a corner, knowing how I'd react.
No one says a word to me, nor does anyone look my way as I walk into the manor, down the remaining drops of my liquor and toss the empty bottle into a nearby decorative plant.
I roam down the halls, eyes set ahead until the dark oak of the double doors leading into the library come into view.
The handle turns, my shoes slap against the hard wood floors, and I don't stop until I'm close enough to make out his back profile, dressed in a shoulder hugging navy blue, almost black suit. He's busy staring out of the bay windows, into the yard where workers continue to work on an almost built structure outside.
The darkness to his blazer and hair stands starkly against the morning sun shining through the windows as he stands tall, perfect and clean, ready for the day at six in the fucking morning.
If my arrival surprises him, he doesn't show it. Infact, he takes him time in turning towards me, while his attentive gaze stay glued to his wrist as he checks his watch.
"You're two hours early." He doesn't sound pleased, nor disappointed but his lips tug down at the corners.
"What can I say?" I mumble, turning to look away when I feel his inquisitive gaze follow me as I move towards his desk, and drop down in his desk chair. "I missed you too much."
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𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+
Romance𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. . . . . . . . . . . We've all heard the tales of good and bad, the tales of innocent deceit and...