Vow Of Deception | ✒︎

06

mᥱ > ყoυ
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I embraced silence long before I embraced speech. Silence provides space for contemplation, for strategizing. Speaking often leads to trouble. Lessons were gleaned from mistakes, and repercussions were rectified.

The overwhelming emotional chaos that engulfed me made it impossible to catch my breath or gather my thoughts, much like the immense aura of the conceited and self-centered man standing in front of me.

I was also taught that reality is an invasive illusion, albeit a persistent one. In order to manipulate this illusion to my advantage, I had to suppress any unnecessary emotions that could hinder my success. I refused to succumb to anger. I mastered anger.

Just as I was controlling my micro-expressions.

Emerging from the ward, I was filled with determination and a burning desire. This desire, fueled by pure vengeance and anger, was unmatched by any other human or ordinary longing. That day, I was not only violated physically, but mentally as well. If my mind were to lead to my downfall, my final wish would be to see my mission through to the end.

One man was down, two more to go and I desperately didn't want to add Mr Vitalis to the list, even though he did cross my path with the proposal of the mother fucking century.

A fiery anger consumed me once more, painting me in the most intense hues of crimson, while I locked eyes with him in defiance. I was ready to engage in a silent standoff at a funeral, but I refused to pretend to play house when I had two lives to determine and destroy. Literally.

In order to proceed with my scheme, I must strategize on how to eliminate the next two individuals slowly and agonizingly. After that, I will locate my mother as planned and uncover the motive behind her betrayal. Despite being present the night of the incident and enduring the same violation, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Unfortunately, my actions led to her reporting me to a hospital, falsely claiming that I attempted to harm myself and her.

I was painted as psychotic when in reality I just have psychotic tendencies fuelled by rage and revenge, which in my eyes is totally acceptable.

My eyes fleet around us, as I lean against his car, and he stands awfully close to me. The closeness might appear typical for an engaged couple, but we are not a couple, and we certainly aren't getting married.

"What the fuck were you thinking, is this another little game where I have to do as you please because I do not want to participate," I say with a hiss finding it hard to focus with such a devilishly handsome man. His hair was just the right length, allowing him to effortlessly style it back. Snap. Out. Of. It.

"Sweetheart, the world does as I please, you're not an exception" A smirk slowly appears on his lips, subtly revealing a dimple on his cheek as he openly states. Breathe.Breathe.Breathe.
A rush of heat envelops me as he leans in, his hands on either side of me, firmly gripping the roof of the SUV.
"Your precious daddy is in debt to me for two and a half million dollars, he works his ass off at my casinos, with my guys, requests to join missions when he is highly untrained just to earn some money to pay off the debt, and besides all that I was paying your hospital bills so he could spend more time working, for you to come back to him. It's going to take him his whole measly life to pay off what he gambled, involving himself in the underground business, but I'm willing to settle the debt, I'm willing to liquefy its existence as long as you step in for him, and become my wife, we play house for a few months and then you're free to take your dad and go anywhere you wish to."

My skin pebbles and the acid within me rises to my throat again, as I swallow the eerie feeling of fear and uncertainty. I ensure to stand even taller than before, fixing him with my unwavering gaze. "And what do you get out of it? Because all you seem to be offering is how to save my family's asses. If you're trying to be a philanthropist and help us, the poor little people, then you can take your goodwill and shove it up your ass" The words flow from my mouth, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Do you know what this engagement just became the key to?-" His gaze narrowed. The intensity of his gaze pierces through me, causing my throat to constrict as I take in his appearance. He no longer resembled a peaceful statue teetering on the edge of a cliff, but rather a wrathful deity capable of tearing apart my very being. I was the catalyst for this newfound aggression. The extent to which this proposition served his interests, as well as my own, was beyond my comprehension. It seemed as though no justification could ever suffice.

I wanted to hear more, but all I could do was to push against his chest and accuse," I don't care how much this means to you if this is all just part of some twisted plan to-"

"Be quiet Marya," he snaps. "I'm talking. "
I close my mouth.

"You're the key to my freedom, if anything I want this more than any-fucking-thing, so yes I'd rather lie with a complete stranger that has done nothing but complicate things for me, for a couple of months than be chained down by duty for the rest of my life" His gaze narrows." This deal will save lives, and if you don't agree to this you will be the one with blood on your thieving hands. So tell me, Marya, is this still a part of my nonexistent twisted plan or am I just as desperate to survive in this world as you are?"

The words crawl beneath my skin, coil around my heart and lungs like razor wire, and trigger a fight or flight reflex in my muscles. I resisted the urge to run even as his stare grew intense and his breaths grew heavier, aggression mirroring in his eyes.

"You still want to help your dad?" I swallow.  Regardless of the question, he could see through me, anticipating my next move and thought every time. But there has always been a longstanding conflict between my heart and my mind. My mind makes decisions for the long term, while my heart guides me in the present moment.

My heart won.
I place both palms on his stupidly broad shoulders and dig my fingers into his cotton shirt, yearning to imprint my nails so deeply that they leave a mark on his muscles. His anger momentarily subsides, a sliver of hope flickering in his amber eyes as he rises to his full stature. It was never my intention to touch him, despite the temptation to explore the sheer strength of this man. He may be questioning why I am willingly making physical contact.

I don't know if he hates it or loves it, but I don't give him or myself time to think about it. I lift my knee and hit him in the crotch. Hard. As hard as I can. As hard and as far as my anger goes.
His face contorted and his hands shot out for me, but I ducked and ran past him towards the gate of the cemetery, away from him and the robotic family of his.

A huge grin pulls on my face. I just kneed the almighty and scary Mr. Vitalis in the balls, suddenly the air feels all much lighter and cleaner. As clean as it gets being surrounded by thousands of dead bodies and a family of a mob.

I wasn't born yesterday to not ask my dad who this man really was, but the answer I was given was that he was a mob boss that he gambled money from— which isn't that much of a problem however the past few days have been anything but normal, so the question still lies thin and answered just like a fresh itch.

As soon as I set foot on the gravel outside the cemetery, the air constricts around me once more. It's so dense that it feels like it could engulf me entirely. I take out my new phone from the pocket of my dress, my suit jacket slipping off my shoulders in the process. The realization hits me like a sharp pain, knowing that the odds of me making it out of there alive are almost nonexistent. I leave that thought behind as I swipe to text my dad, letting it fall at my feet.

Midway through typing the word, Where, a sweet smell fills my senses, and I can feel the softness of a cloth pressed into my nose.

Then the world went black.

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