Dance of Affliction (GxG)

Reliving Memories

»»-----¤-----«« Estelle's Pov »»-----¤-----««

I place my hands on the ledge of the terrace, closing my eyes as I take a deep breath and lean my head back. When I open my eyes again, I observe the breathtaking view before me. The dark sky is dotted with star-like lights that sparkle like fairy dust, illuminating the city in a warm and inviting glow. A sense of peace settles over me as I stand in awe of this beautiful sight before me.

Wow...

It is a sight to behold, and I can do nothing but take it in with awe and admiration. The glass door slides open again, followed by the sound of footsteps heading towards me. My body instantly tenses up, knowing exactly who has joined me outside.

»»-------¤-------«« Mallory's Pov »»-------¤-------««

My eyes track her every step to the terrace, my jaw clenching at the sight of her figure illuminated by the small spotlights in the wooden floor. An indescribable hatred wells up inside me for some reason. But yet without thinking, I make my way to the terrace as well, standing behind her. She's a head shorter than me; I can smell that same perfume on her cardigan and her hair feels unbelievably soft.

"Are you going to stand here all night?" I murmur, my voice low and inviting. Our eyes meet as she tilts her head in my direction, sending a shiver down my spine with the sweet sound of her honey voice.

"And what if I do?" She doesn't hold back her sass, even outside of the club. Her biting retorts keep me entertained and I can't help but be amused by her fiery attitude. I fucking love it.

I slide my arms under hers, stretching out to the ledge of the terrace balcony, quietly observing her reaction. My breath catches in my throat as I feel her body lean into mine; her warmth radiates and engulfs me, an irresistable sensation that causes me to gently lay my hands on her waist. I carefully rest my head in the small nook of her neck and shoulder, taking note of every detail from the way she breathes to the subtle scent of her perfume.

"Michael told me you didn't do escort gigs anymore."

"You are correct." Her voice trails off into a slight quiver, prompting me to move my gaze down and rest it upon her delicate shoulder. I hear her take in a soft gasp and can feel her tense up beneath my touch.

"Then why did you agree to mine, Sparky?" Observing her from behind, I see her body gradually inhabit the space as she turns to face me, leaning against the ledge with her arms crossed.

"I'm not obligated to give you an explanation, and you have no one to blame but yourself for throwing your money away."

"I wouldn't say throwing away, i'd say invest." I smirk at her reply and gaze at her hourglass figure, her eyes and fiery red hair.

"Invest? Really? Do I look like a car to you?" She says, her voice dripping with disdain as she glares at me. All I can do is let out a mischievous chuckle.

"Ah Sparky, don't be so sour just because you lost the bet." I watch her face flush red as I say the words and a sly smile creeps across my lips. For some reason, I find great joy in pushing her buttons, it amuses me to my core. The sound of my phone ringing from inside the kitchen makes me pause.

"Be a good girl and stay where you are," I warn menacingly, my eyes fixed on the glass door in front of me. Then I turn back, making my way to the kitchen, and answer my phone.

»»-------¤-------«« Estelle's Pov »»-------¤-------««

I remain immobile on the terrace and watch her walk back inside. What am I supposed to do? It's obvious I'm not being taken seriously here, just seen as some object. My gaze darts towards the elevator door, my mind racing with ideas of possible escape.

If I can make a run for it while she's distracted..

With a heavy heart I mull it over and decide to take my chances. I carefully walk towards the open glass door, my eyes subtly glancing around as if to gather up any stray items that might have dropped while pretending to reach for my purse laying near the couch.

"Bethany, i'm not a fucking idiot." I hear her hiss sharply into the phone. Judging from her tone of voice, it's her assistant who called her, although I'm not positive. As I watch, I notice her pacing back and forth before she slips away into the next room, presumably seeking out some privacy.

This is my chance!

I hastily jog towards the elevator, my gaze alternating between the button and the room where she just entered. The seconds seem to slow down as I wait impatiently for the doors to open. Throughout, my eyes remain fixed on that room, anticipation building. My eyes widen in surprise as the elevator arrives with a loud ring of its bell, startling me. I wait for the doors to open when suddenly I feel a firm grip on my wrist, dragging me away from the elevator with jarring force as if I were a ragdoll. Instinctively, my body tenses up and I let out an involuntary yelp of shock.

"So you think you can just waltz out of here without my permission? I don't think so, Sparky. Where do you think you're going?"

Panic surges within me. My heart is pounding in my chest as my adrenaline kicks in, sending a nauseating wave of dread through my body. I glance up to meet Fedorov's cold gaze and see her lips curl into an amused yet menacing smirk. I exhale a deep breath, speaking firmly,

"Home." I attempt to extract my arm from her iron grip on my wrist but without any luck...

I'm met with a mocking cackle from her lips, almost as if she thought I was laughable.

"You amaze me, truly." She shakes her head before she forcibly drags me back inside the living room. Panic soars through my veins as my mind races for ways to escape. My gaze darts frantically around the room, settling on the elevator: my only hope of escape. My heart pounds in my chest as I desperately tried to come up with a plan.

"My patience for your disobedience is wearing thin." Her voice is laced with menace as she spoke.

"Yeah, get used to it," I say firmly.

She wears a mask of indifference, her face emotionless and unreadable. I'm left to guess what she is thinking and feeling. A wave of terror washes over me. It's happening again. Inescapable and inevitable, I'm in a rebound loop of trauma, reliving past experiences that leave me mentally crippled. All the previous times with other clients come flooding back to me once more. History has come back to haunt me once again.

I gasp in surprise as the grip on my wrist starts to loosen. I open my eyes cautiously, half expecting to see something horrible, only to behold Fedorov's face looking down at me with an expression that I can't quite make out. She releases my arm and her eyes darken, becoming even more menacing than before. I look up towards her in confusion until she comes closer to me. She leans down just inches away from my face, and I can barely breathe.

"I'm only going to ask this once." Her voice has a menacing edge that seems to echo through the room, freezing me in place with fear.

"Who.was.it?" 

Author's note:

Thank you for reading chapter 7 from "Dance of Affliction!"<3

I was debating how deep i could go with this chapter, but i decided to dedicate a whole seperate one for this topic. It seems better than splitting it up.

If you enjoy the story so far, don't forget to leave a vote or a comment to support<3