𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬¹ ✓

Seven

Fear {noun} - a feeling of anxiety concerning the outcome of the safety or well-being of someone.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

      𝓣𝓱𝓮 four that were left kept their heads down, their eyes trained on their feet.

Olivia had the slightest splatter of blood on her face and arms but she didn't care to wipe it off.

"I'm waiting." She said in a mocking sing-song tone. The four flinched but one person, in particular, stood out.

She was shaking like a leaf in the wind. Olivia was shocked that she was still standing seeing as she was shaking so vigorously with six-inch heels on.

Olivia sighed, going over to a guard that was standing behind Theo, opening his suit jacket to pull out a box of cigarettes. She left hers in the office.

She took one out, placing it into her mouth as the same guard took a lighter, helping her light it as she took a breath. "Merci." She said as the guard slightly nodded back.

Olivia walked over to the woman. Her breath hitched as she saw Olivia's heeled boots in front of her.

"Regardez-moi." She said calmly but the woman was too scared. She stayed shaking in her spot with her head down.

{Look at me.}

Olivia was getting impatient. All she wanted was to catch and punish who bought the drugs with her father's personal card so she could go back to her office and call Tony to check on her sons.

Once she realized the woman wasn't going to look up herself, she grabbed her face forcefully, pulling it up to look at her.

The woman whimpered from the force. Olivia blew smoke into her face making the woman cough slightly.

"Name." She asked Theo. "Monica Reath." He responded before swiping down farther on her file.

Monica side-eyed Jorge's dead body still laying on the concrete as his blood stained the floor.

"No le regarde pas. Regardez-moi." She demanded making the woman snap her eyes to look at Olivia's. Monica felt more fear in Olivia's presence than she ever did in Lorenzo's.

{Don't look at him. Look at me.}

In a sense, Monica felt like Olivia was more deranged than Lorenzo ever was.

More calculated.

"Who are you to my father?" Olivia asked, her face and voice still monotoned. The difference between her monotoned speaking to Monica compared to the deranged look as she killed Jorge was terrifying to all in the room.

"Je-j'aide Lorenzo à se déstresser." Olivia scoffed as she smirked. She took the last of her cigarette and put it out on the skin of Monica's neck making her wince but Olivia's eyes sparkled at the sight of her burning skin.

{I- I help Lorenzo destress.}

She let go of Monica's face causing her to fall to the ground onto her knees.

"Donc tu étais la pute personelle de père?" Olivia laughed. Monica hesitantly nodded, hating the title.

{So you were father's personal whore?}