The killer of her best friend wants her. What happens when the lines between hatred and desire begin to blur?
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╰┈⫸ 𝑺 𝒀 𝑵 𝑶 𝑷 𝑺 𝑰 𝑺:
𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢'𝐬 life takes a harrowing turn on her best friend's wedding day whe...
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When I returned home after dropping Ana off at her friend's house, Aunt began her daily lecture of the day.
"Why are you late?"
"Got stuck in traffic," I replied while checking my social media. There were fewer notifications than I'd expected, thankfully. The only message left unread was from Elena, who texted me on her marriage day, asking when I was arriving. I had already reached her place by that time, so I didn't bother replying.
I made my way to the kitchen nonchalantly to make myself some coffee, not realizing that Aunt was following me. It wasn't until I tucked my phone back into my pocket that I heard what she was bragging about.
Turns out, it was what she always keeps saying.
"I don't understand why that girl always wants to stay out of her home. On every holiday, there has to be one of her friends who calls her over. Does she even know how dangerous it is out there?" She gasped in disbelief. Then her gaze diverted to mine, "and you. You are always spoiling her like that. Why did you have to drop her off at that place just because she asked you to? Did you even ask for my permission?"
Excuse me, ma'am, your daughter is twenty-one, for God's sake. I wanted to snap back at her so badly, but because of my lack of energy, I was entirely disinterested.
I only let out an exasperated sigh in response before continuing what I was doing. Listening to her would only tear my eardrums off.
I swear, if Ana didn't beg me to stay in their home, I'd have asked Uncle long ago if I wanted to move out. But because of her Mom's absurd superstitions and controlling tendencies, Ana couldn't move out despite turning eighteen. And I knew if I moved out, I'd be leaving Ana in a lion's den. So I ended up staying in the same house as my... quirky Aunt.
Aunt only stopped running her mouth when her son, AKA my cousin, Solomon, appeared at the door. Leaning himself against the doorframe, he took a little glance at me, and I nodded at him. Then he looked at his mom.
"I'm going out with my friends, Mama," he said in a deep voice, letting the fact be known that he just woke up from sleep.
Seriously, it's nearly noon.
Why in the world does his sixteen-year-old brain need that much sleep, unless he was awake the whole night?
Aunt shouted at him, "Assolutamente no. You're having dinner here tonight."
