Cursed Love

Twisted Revenge

RYAN.

I held Rory's gaze a little longer. She then leapt onto the dance floor. She knew that I was watching her. She threw her hands in the air and began swaying her hips to the music. I was utterly captivated by the way her body swung. Fuck, she's hot. Her little black dress kept riding up to her thighs. She's got moves. The serene expression on her face makes me question why doesn't she give that expression away very often? What keeps her so guarded?

"It looks like Tristan is enjoying the show," Michael speaks from next to me.

I look over at Tristan, who is staring at her, basically eye fucking her. I get the knife from my back pocket and approach him.

"I know you can't tear away your eyes from her. I can't either but if you don't look away in point one second, I'm going to break every single bone in your body."

I take his hand in mine and place it on the counter. I stab his palm with the knife. Blood immediately begins to pool around his hand, staining the pristine surface of the counter. The sharp pain causes him to wince, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. It becomes entangled in the space between his palm and the counter. As he tries to pull his hand back, the knife's blade grazes against the edge of the counter, intensifying the pain.

His breath quickens, and beads of sweat form on his forehead as he struggles to free himself from the unexpected entanglement. I cover his lips with my hands as he yells in agony. His palm is splattered with blood. I wanted my knife back, but it was fucking stained with his blood. I pulled out the knife and cleaned it with his white button-down shirt. I could see the panic in his eyes as he watched me clean the knife with his shirt, realizing the severity of the situation.

The girl next to him gasps.

"If you don't want your girlfriend to be seen, why don't you ask her not to put on a show?" she murmured, barely audible. I moved closer, whispering into her ear.

"Aurora is her own person, no one tells her what she can and cannot do. But she's mine, and I won't share the feeling she gives me. Call me a selfish bastard, but I protect what's mine. And I know how to kill and get away with it."

I walked to the minibar and the bartender handed me a whiskey on the rocks. I took a sip and let the burning sensation soothe me.

Rage swelled within me when I saw Dylan getting way too fucking close to Rory. I tried to distract myself by stirring the amber liquid in my glass but ended up crushing it in my hand, the shards biting into my skin. Pain didn't register, as my fury consumed me. I wanted to tear Rory away from him, but I noticed her discomfort. She looked unsteady and out of sorts, as if she'd been drugged. I suspected Dylan. When she left the dance floor, I followed her and wrapped my arms around her, keeping her close. I signaled Michael to corner Dylan at our usual spot. I carried Rory to my car and drove her home. She gazed out the window, lost in thought.

"Violet?" I asked gently.

She seemed far away and didn't respond.

"Aurora, talk to me," I urged.

"I just feel... nothing. Like I don't belong here, like I have no purpose. I miss being happy," she said, sadness painting her features. And when I looked into her endless eyes, I knew in that moment I would snatch every joy, every happiness the world could offer- stealing it from undeserving hands if I had to - and present it all to her on a bended knee. I would turn this world dark if that's what it took to make her mine. The rest be damned. She fell asleep quickly, exhaustion evident in her eyes. I carried her inside, put her to bed, and tucked her in. I watched her face, captivated by the innocence that had replaced her earlier wild demeanor. She appeared so vulnerable, yet breathtaking.