"I hate you." My voice cracks as I tell him.
His feet stop at the door.
I clutch the bedsheet tightly around my chest as he turns around with an emotionless face.
"Then there will be a lot of hate fucking between us." A smirk curve his lips as his g...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I tear a part of my dress and fold my money in it.
I hide it safely in the closet's drawer, inside a pair of bathroom slippers so he couldn't find them.
I don't trust that cheap king. He already stole my clothes, and other alternatives. What if that miser steals my money too?
And then he has the audacity to tell me I am good for nothing. I'll show him what am good at..
I take a scissor and stomp towards his room. I am going to give all of his underwears a makeover. I will convert them into thongs, liked the one he wanted me to wear, then steal his clothes and run away like the biggest motherfucker he has ever seen.
He-He-Ha-Ha!
I push the handle of his bedroom's door and the digital panel of the lock screams at me in a robotic voice, 'Access denied. Access denied.'
The fuck! This bastard has finger prints access all over his place. I can't even open a fucking door or drawer without his permission.
It's like this house is his kingdom and not even a fly can enter without being caught in his cameras. He rules every square foot, keeping his eyes everywhere like a tyrant king he is.
I look up at the camera at the end of corridor and lift my middle finger, 'Fuck You' I lip sync and walk away angrily. I bet he has posters of Andrew Tate all over in his room, that's why he is keeping it locked.
Gosh! I feel like a trapped hamster in a wheel here, and I miss my old grounded days with no Netflix or chill. I miss my annoying brother when he kept barging into my room asking for his books, which I used to hide just to watch him go crazy for an hour.
But there is nothing to hide here, except for the paintings which are fixated behind a safety glass so not even a speck of dust could touch them, leaving me alone.
His house is like a library, minus the books.
Only walls.
I can't believe I am missing my home, my family which I am ignoring from past three days because I don't what to lie to them.
But I have to be brave. I find my phone and call Ethan, before he himself reaches to HighBars office in search of me.
"Hello."
"Heyyy.. What's up, loser?" I greet my brother.
"Emara? Where the heck have you been? I called you so many times and we were so worried about you. Mom thought you got kidnapped and dad was going to fire an inquiry for you in Seattle." He bombards on me and my blood pressure increases.
"Oh my god! What? Didn't I tell him about the interview and sessions with this AI company?"
"Yeah.. But then you totally disappeared. You didn't pick our calls or replied to texts. We were so worried, Emara." He complains to me like the one minute big brother he is.
