Captive Of The Count

20

Chapter is unGrammarlied, if that is even a word, cause network is shitty.

Sorry for the late update, enjoy❤

Amara's pov

A man not texting me back was going to be my villain origin story. Pathetic? I know. Burdened is the heart that grows fond of another, I wish I had been told this earlier. If I had known, I wouldn't have grown attached to Orian or maybe I would have but not carelessly.

I moved uneasily around my bed, sliding against the sheets and clutching the covers to my chest while trying to find a suitable position that would enable me continue my prolonged slumber.

My stomach growled.

I wasn't surprised. I was beginning to think that the breakfast of salad Terren had sent up for me was a punishment for not letting him in my room and not for me to lose a little fat from my rounded belly as he put it. My belly isn't even that big, Despite knowing this, I spent a few minutes palming it trying to know if it was actually big or He was just exaggerating.

I know it bulged out a bit when I wear my body con dresses, it folded when I sat but I don't think having about five spoonfuls of salad with barely enough cream was merited.

Ugh! I hate him! And at this point I didn't know if I was talking about hating Terren or Orian.

I rolled again pushing the covers of me this time with my hand outstretched reaching for my phone. I looked through my messages frowning at the fact that Orian still haven't texted.

He should have at least sent a 'I do not want to be friends without morals with you anymore' Text but he didn't. He left me horny with empty inboxes and my fingers playing a game of 'He friend-likes me, He friend-likes me not' on a rose flower and guess what? The last petal ended in He friend-likes me not and I couldn't be more elated. And he also proved that my stalker had more time for me, at least he left messages which Orian had failed to do even though the messages were creepy.

"A man not texting you as he said he would is not the end of the world." Rose had said while asking me straight up what it felt like to have hickeys and drilling me for details of what had happened, "He would definitely call, maybe he's busy. He seems like a pretty important person and they are always busy, our parents are always busy."

"But they still make out time for each other." I had retorted.

It was late afternoon now. I pushed myself off the bed willing my legs to move towards the bathroom. I needed to clean up, a tiny simple heartbreak wasn't enough to keep me in bed. Despite the thought of staying in bed being extremely appealing, I had to get up and get some things done.

Have some shame! Do not text him back, My best friend's words were ingrained at the back of my mind and they popped up anytime I thought of texting or Calling him to know what was up. Cussing him out and letting out my pent up anger would have been good but I had my pride to keep.

I have my pride to keep, I reminded myself as I stepped into the bathroom. I said the words again when I began to brush while still stylishly observing my stomach in the mirror and I had to reminisce the words again when my eyes skimmed over the marks on my neck and heat bloomed in my belly remembering who had put them there.

______________

"Covering up my marks I see." And there it was, that smug look on his face with the irritating smirk curling on his lips.

He leaned against the door with hands folded across his torso looking like he was Heaven's gift to women, "I would rather you walk around with them uncovered so everyone would know whom you belong to." He pushed off the door and took steps towards me, my insides twisted in uncomfortable knots as he got closer and closer.