Trigger warning: violence, sexual abuse, physical abuse, racism, substance abuse, and self-harm. The book is DARK, DARK, and DARK.
The book is complete.
HE WAS UNHINGED; SHE WAS HIS ELIXIR.
HE WAS ADDICTED; SHE WAS HIS DRUG.
HE WAS WISTFUL; SHE WA...
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He wanted her like a poison that thrived on a life source. To consume every part of her. He yearned to sustain himself inside her throbbing veins.
-Ethan ~~
Maryam... Mary, the girl he fell in love with.
Mary..., the innocent, the naïve, the stupid, the brave girl.
Sat on the floor with the support of one of his calves, foot planted on the floor, with his other knee pressing down on the neck of the girl beneath him and ignoring her groans as she writhed in pain, he wondered.
Just what made his Mary so brave.
Brave enough to befriend a guy and make a rival out of him..., just for Ethan to destroy.
The gurgling beneath his knee scratched at his ears. Just a little harder, and she'd be done for. What else did she expect for messing with his girl? Roses? A candle light dinner?
"Ethan, you're killing her."
Annoyed, Ethan veered his attention to his underling, looking down at him with somewhat firmness. Steering his gaze at Stella next, beneath him, strangled beneath his knee, Ethan shrugged away from her hastily, watching her wheeze and suck in several bouts of air. As if disgusted, Ethan wiped his hands over his dark jacket. But that was not all that she was going to get away with. Instead he let his heavy booted clad foot press on her hand, plastered against the floor.
Melodious screams of agony and despair echoed off of the walls of his mansion. He only pressed harder in return. It was a good thing his mother wasn't home, he thought, or she'd feel pity upon this wretched woman. Show weakness, if not annoyance at the splattered blood on the floor. Sure, he could have sorted this out at their underground base, but he did not have the patience nor felt the need to drive the miles to give the trash and her friends a piece of their minds when he could do that in the luxury of his home.
"I could care less if she dies," he said, indignant, "Do I look like I give a damn?"
Crack!
The phalanges in her fingers broke beneath the weight of his heavy foot, adding to her wailing.
"Nobody touches what's mine. You here me, nobody? And you dared to almost send her to a hospital?" A maniacal laugh left him, chilling the spectators to their very bones. "Surely, you must be tired of wasting anymore oxygen."
