[Book #2 in the Nystrom series.]
[Check tws before reading]
[Dual pov]
I push the feeling away and ultimately concentrate my gaze on his upper body, which still bears the traces of my lipstick. "You did not remove them?" He smirks and closes the boo...
Thank you for being so patient with the upcoming chapters, I'm on the edge of sleeping writing this so I hope you'll enjoy it!
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- AMAYA'S POV -
AS I GLANCE around my room, I see bags packed to the brim with my belongings taking up the entire floor, which frustrates me.
My gaze shifts away from the piano in the corner of my room, the enormous bookshelf leaned against the wall, and a few other items like my favorite pictures.
Because I lack the strength and time to deal with these on my own and also because I want to leave as soon as possible, I will have to contact some of our men to assist me.
My eyes feel like they are about to shut as I realize that I still have to do that stupid mission.
I still had thought that I could take a nap, but who am I kidding? I never can.
My silver mask is laying there when I open my drawers after walking to them. Before putting it on me, I grab another set of clothes to make sure I'm safe.
Then, despite the fact that this is not where they belong, I take a few of the guns out of my other drawer.
But you have to understand that it is acceptable to sometimes fight dirty when you share your home with a lunatic bitch like my mother.
I pull my hair back into a high ponytail and cover my face with the silver mask.
This mask and I have a love-hate relationship. Although I adore the color and how it leaves me feeling, I hate the reason I am wearing it.
"The car is ready for you," Even just my mother's voice, which is calling out from downstairs, manages to enrage me to no end.
I find it difficult to understand her at times because she treats me like a useless piece of shit while still expecting me to do stuff for her and put my life in danger for her and her dumb secrets.
After leaving my room and heading downstairs while doing my best to avoid my mother, my head begins to throb.
She is no longer in the hallway, so I assume she has chosen to stay in the training room for a while.
I put my shoes on before opening the front door and leaving to get the new car we arranged. Even though it makes sense, I am tired of using brand-new cars every day for missions.
When I actually see nobody nearby, my eyes roll to the back of my head and a scoff slips out of my mouth.
When my mother told me to go alone, she truly meant it. But I didn't anticipate anything different.
