Run With The Devil

No Mercy

The garden was silent except for the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of city life. The confrontation with Alessandra was far from over, and my anger had reached a boiling point. Seeing her casual disregard for the chaos she had caused, and her smug attitude, was the final straw. I couldn't let this go unaddressed. Not now, not ever.

Without a word, I closed the distance between us, grabbing Alessandra by the throat with a grip that was both firm and unyielding. Her eyes widened in shock and fear as I tightened my hold, my voice a low, menacing growl. "You think you can just get away with this? You think you can disrespect me and everyone under my roof without facing consequences?"

Alessandra struggled, her hands clawing at my arm, but my grip was ironclad. Her face turned a shade of red as she gasped for breath, and I could see the panic setting in. "I'm going to make this very clear to you," I said, my voice cold and unforgiving. "I will never be interested in you. Your behavior was disgraceful, and you've crossed a line that can't be ignored."

I pulled her closer, my eyes locked on hers, the message clear. "If you ever harm or show disrespect to anyone who lives under my roof again, you will face far worse than this. Understand that you have no place here if you can't follow basic decency."

Alessandra's eyes were wide with terror, and her attempts to free herself grew weaker. Without releasing my grip, I moved her toward the pool, the water glistening under the afternoon sun. Her struggles became more desperate as she realized what was about to happen.

Mr. Vico, having watched the entire scene unfold, rushed forward, pleading. "Deon, please! Stop this! This isn't necessary! I'll handle her; just let her go!"

But my anger had clouded my judgment, and I was beyond caring about pleas. I walked her to the edge of the pool, her feet now struggling to find purchase. With a final, fierce shove, I pushed her under the water, holding her there as she thrashed and gasped.

Mr. Vico's cries were desperate, but they fell on deaf ears. "Please, Deon! She'll drown! Stop this madness!"

The struggle continued below the surface, Alessandra's flailing becoming increasingly frantic. It wasn't long before her movements slowed and then ceased altogether. The water churned with her last attempts at life.

Finally, I released my grip and stepped back, watching with a mix of grim satisfaction and cold detachment. I heard Mr. Vico scrambling to the pool's edge, pulling Alessandra out of the water with a mixture of urgency and dread. She lay there, coughing and gasping as water spilled from her mouth.

Without a word, I turned and walked away from the scene, my emotions a tumultuous mix of anger and resolve. The message had been sent. Alessandra and the Vico family had learned their lesson the hard way.

As I left the garden, I could still hear the muffled sounds of Mr. Vico's attempts to revive Alessandra, her coughing and spluttering punctuating the otherwise serene garden. It was a harsh reminder of the consequences of disrespect in my world, and one that would not be forgotten easily.

The sun was beginning to set as I made my way back to my car, my thoughts focused on the tasks that lay ahead. This incident was far from over, but for now, the immediate issue had been dealt with. The next steps would involve addressing the fallout and ensuring that such a breach of decorum never happened again.

Lyras pov

It had been days since I had last left my room. The isolation was a familiar comfort, a way to retreat from the chaos and humiliation I'd faced. The only solace I found was in my own company, shielded from the prying eyes of others. But that night, hunger gnawed at me, breaking the stillness of my self-imposed solitude.

At midnight, the house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards and the distant hum of the city outside. I slipped out of my room and made my way to the kitchen, trying to be as silent as possible. The kitchen, with its cold, stainless steel appliances and dim lighting, felt like a refuge.

I opened the fridge and grabbed a jar of strawberry jam, the sweet smell filling the air. Then, I reached for a loaf of bread from the cabinet. My hands moved with practiced ease as I prepared a simple strawberry jam sandwich. I sat at the kitchen counter, eating quietly in the dark, the only light coming from the small, soft glow of the refrigerator.

Just as I took a bite, I heard a noise from the doorway. I looked up, startled, to see Deon standing there. He was shirtless, his loose trousers hanging low on his hips. His hair was slightly disheveled, as though he had just woken up. Despite the situation, there was a casual, almost amused smile on his face.

"Late-night snack attack, huh?" Deon said, his voice soft but with a hint of humor. He stepped into the kitchen, his gaze shifting to the sandwich in my hand. "Strawberry jam, huh? Classic choice. I never took you for a jam enthusiast."

I tried to manage a small smile, but I could feel the tension of days spent alone and the weight of my recent experiences pressing down on me. "I guess I just wanted something simple," I replied, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Deon leaned against the counter, still wearing that half-smile. "You know, I didn't think I'd catch you sneaking around in the dark. Thought you were more of a daytime person."

I shrugged, trying to hide how much his presence affected me. "I didn't want to disturb anyone."

He nodded, his eyes softening as he studied me. "Well, you're not disturbing me. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You've been keeping to yourself a lot lately."

I looked down at my sandwich, avoiding his gaze. "I'm fine. Just needed some time to myself."

Deon's tone became more serious, though he still tried to keep things light. "Isolation isn't always the best solution, you know. Sometimes it helps to talk things out, or at least let people know you're alright."

I hesitated, feeling a pang of vulnerability. "I don't really know what to say. Things have been... complicated."

He nodded understandingly. "I get that. Life has a way of throwing curveballs at us. But, if you ever want to talk, or if you just need a distraction from whatever's on your mind, I'm here."

For a moment, the humor faded from his expression, replaced by genuine concern. His presence was comforting, a stark contrast to the isolation I had been hiding in.

I looked up at him, the warmth in his eyes making me feel seen, even if just for a moment. "Thanks, Deon. I appreciate it."

He grinned, trying to lighten the mood again. "Well, if you're not going to say much, at least let me help you with that sandwich. Sharing food is a pretty good way to break the ice."

I handed him the sandwich with a shy smile, and he took a bite, making a show of savoring it. "Not bad, if I do say so myself. But next time, we're going to have to try something more elaborate."

As we stood there in the dim light of the kitchen, the tension slowly dissipated, replaced by a sense of unexpected companionship. It wasn't a solution to all my problems, but it was a reminder that, even in my isolation, I wasn't entirely alone.