MAFIA'S WRONG TARGET

26: LET'S PLAY DIRTY

{Here's the chapter as per the promise. Wrote this in an extreme hurry so please ignore all the mistakes}

SYBIL'S POV

Hunter's penthouse,
11:17 PM.

"Out!" I heard King roar.

He's been mad about something for the last few hours, and all I hear are things crashing and his furious roars echoing through the house.

I preferred not to show up, nor did he check on me since after that night, he beat me with his belt. I'm slowly healing, but I'm aware that it's just a matter of time before new bruises will cover my skin again.

Can't believe I was the girl whimpering and pouting at even paper cuts but now insensitive to the edge that I'm used to the worst kind of violence around me.

There was one last crashing sound, more like someone- he threw something big.

My eyes were on the door knowing it's gonna swing open any second that what exactly happened.

He stormed in, slamming the door behind him, and I instinctively pulled my knees to my chest as I curled up.

He looked like a beast-an angry beast with no one to control him. Those eyes made me gulp down my saliva, a wave of fear washing over me.

His large steps ate up the space in no time and he seized my forearm, his grip so tight it bruised, yanking me to my feet. His fingers dug into my skin, the pressure unbearable.

"He's dead," he growled, slamming me against the wall, causing me to gasp in pain.

He didn't mention who but I took the hint. It's probably his father.

I had braced myself for a beating, but I wasn't prepared for the torture he had in store this time, the worst kind.

He advanced, trapping me against the wall. I pressed myself back, but his hand shot out, seizing my neck.

"You succeeded," he spat, his breath reeking of alcohol.

I held his wrist with both of my hands, not daring to push even though his fingers were slightly choking me.

Tears started to form in my eyes as I found it hard to breathe properly. I hardly breathed. His big palm, which was rubbing my neck roughly, loosened its grip.

I didn't want to push him and piss him further, so I gently removed his hand, and he let me. I breathed in not breaking the eye contact.

He never acted like this before. I could tell he was extremely drunk. He wasn't himself. I tried to move away but immediately paused as his gaze got intense again. Something dark flickered behind his green orbs they darkened.

His rough hand once again reached out to me, grabbed me by my collar this time,, and began to lean to my face.

I tried to keep my distance by pressing my palm on his chest, but he was way too strong than me to even make enough space to breathe.

In an instant, he grabbed my wrists and pinned my hands above my head. I felt so small because all I was able to see was him looming over me.

His face buried into the crock of my neck smelling me sharply. I wiggle only for him to push himself on me. His knee between my legs paused my movements. The other hand rested on my hip, slowly tailing high to slip under my shirt.

"Don't do this." I stuttered.

His cold palm moved roughly on my back and pulled me towards himself. My chest crashed against his hard ones.