𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞
I am the judge, the jury, and the executioner.
Francesca "Frank" Monroe. One of the most successful criminal defense attorneys in the history of Chicago. The woman everyone...
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Throughout dinner, I couldn't help but notice Hector's secret glances. His gaze was like a powerful heat, impossible to ignore. His penetrating, stormy eyes remained firmly on me, igniting a mix of emotions I couldn't make sense of.
The stubborn image of his gray eyes was burned into my memory, filled with an unfathomable amount of depth that mirrored the complicated persona of the man behind them. His sharp features flashed through my mind in constant waves, forcing me to face my turmoil again and again.
A bitter wave of conflict washed over me as my brain furiously attempted to rationalize the newly surfacing emotions within me.
It was ingrained in my nature to despise him; he was the blood of my enemy. But life has a wicked sense of humour, with irony as its go-to punch line. Following his help during the assault on my home, I found my emotions wavering. His sudden goodwill left me confused and intrigued, unaware of how to decipher my shifting feelings.
I found myself drawn towards Hector, and I fucking loathed that. All I had heard about him seemed to align with his actions. He was reputed to be more than a ruthless underboss; he was also known to be a man of honor, loyal to a fault. According to reliable sources - my father and Ronan, Hector was fair and embodied principles, something I had seen myself.
His constant presence in my thoughts left me restless and sleep became elusive. The image of our near kiss haunted me while his stupidly brave act of jumping in front of a bullet added to my confusion.
Feeling defeated and emotionally exhausted, I grabbed the extra pillow, hoping the heavy weight could silence my intrusive thoughts. For a while, the emotional burden became a bit easier to bear, and I drifted off to sleep.
──●◎●──
Don't .. Stop .. Don't touch me .. No .. Noah .. Noah .. Stop hurting him .. Don't touch him.. Stop .. STOP!
Startled from sleep, I felt as though my body had been put through a grueling physical challenge. Sweat dripped from my forehead and my breathing came in ragged gasps, as though I had been running for miles without rest.
Panic began to spread through my body, as I struggled to control my fear. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, trying to soothe the quivering in my limbs and reassure myself that everything was safe.
The same cursed memory assaulted me again, the same wretched dream taunting me once more.
Quickly, I swapped my sweat-soaked pyjamas for more comfortable attire and, as though guided by some unseen force, I found myself drawn to my car keys. The image of open road and the soothing purr of my vehicle calmed me momentarily and without a second thought, I bolted out of the house.
