Default Title - His Sadistic Love

part 11 :my inner demons

Victor's POV

As I settled deeper into my work, the phone rang, breaking my concentration. It was my friend, the owner of the upscale bar I was in the process of buying.

"The bar is all set," he said, his voice laced with excitement.

"Good. You're going to make some serious money," I replied, a smirk playing on my lips. The investment was more than worth it.

"Definitely. And luckily, I have an assistant who'll help manage everything," he added.

"That's a relief," I said, feeling a bit of weight lift off my shoulders. It meant I could focus on my other projects without worrying about day-to-day operations.

"Just wait until you see it," he continued, "I think you'll love what we've done with the place."

"I can't wait." I hung up, anticipation swirling in my mind. This was more than just a business move; it was the start of something new.

As Victor wrapped up his workday and walked to his car, something caught his eye-a billboard showcasing Liza's face. He was momentarily dazzled by her beauty, unaware she was also a model. To him, having her by his side felt like winning a prestigious trophy, but unlike an object, Liza was a living, breathing person. That realization weighed heavily on him; this wouldn't be easy.

Once inside his mansion, he retreated to his gun room. The sound of bullets slicing through the air filled the space as he fired at the distant target, his ear unprotected and his eyes bare. Each shot was a release, a way to channel his frustration.

"Might as well hit the mark," he mumbled to himself, feeling the tension melt away with each impact. In his twisted mind, he believed that hurting others was a perverse way of showing love-a way to exert control in a world where he felt increasingly powerless. Liza was a challenge, and he was determined to claim her, no matter the cost.

VICTOR'S POV 🌹

As I walked down the hallway of my mansion, I spotted a child playing beneath the table. I didn't recognize her, but curiosity sparked a smirk on my face. I approached quietly, ready for a little fun. Lifting the tablecloth, I aimed to scare her, and when she screamed, a rush of satisfaction coursed through me. That moment of fear was exactly what I craved.

But then the girl began to cry, and suddenly the thrill faded, replaced by a jolt of reality. "I was just joking!" I said, trying to reassure her, but my heart sank as I heard footsteps approaching.

One of my maids rushed in, calling out the girl's name. It turned out she was her eight-year-old daughter. Anger bubbled beneath my calm facade as I thought, Why did you bring her here? Shouldn't she be in your room until I returned?

I took a deep breath, forcing a polite smile. "I'm sorry about that," I said to the maid, my tone measured. I also apologized to the girl, who sniffled but managed a small smile in return.

"It's okay," she said softly. The maid nodded, looking relieved as she led her daughter away. As they left, I was thankful I hadn't made a scene. The last thing I needed was a reminder of my unpredictability.

After what happened earlier, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. "That was too funny," I murmured, recalling the look on the girl's face. I enjoyed the thrill of scaring her, and it made me think about having a child of my own someday. "I could have fun teasing her," I smiled, imagining playful moments.

Later, my phone buzzed with a message from a friend. "Hey, I've got some girls I thought you'd like. Young ones-perfect for you!" he texted.

I frowned and typed back, "Thanks, but I'm not interested. I prefer women in their early twenties, not teenagers."

"Suit yourself," he replied, but I could sense his confusion.

As I reflected on my life, frustration bubbled up again. "I just wish I could take the reins of the family business," I sighed aloud, staring at the wall. "Why does my father have to be so controlling?"

I recalled our last conversation. "You're not ready to handle this, Victor. Let me manage things," he had said dismissively.

I clenched my jaw. "I'm tired of being in your shadow. This is my family legacy, too."

Determined, I thought about how to change things. "One day, I'll find a way to make my voice heard," I promised myself. "I just need a solid plan to ensure the family business reflects what I believe."

While I was walking down the stairs, I noticed three of my close friends entering the living room. "Hey, guys!" I greeted them, and they all replied with casual thanks, settling into the plush sofas.

I poured each of them a glass of wine. "Any plans tonight?" I asked, trying to gauge their interest. "I was hoping you'd join me at the bar I just purchased. It's an upscale place, and there are plenty of women you might like."

"Oh, that sounds nice!" one of them replied, his eyes lighting up.

"Tonight?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Absolutely," he said with a grin. "Count me in!"

"Me too!" the second chimed in.

"Same here," the last added, a hint of excitement in his voice.

"Great! By the way," I continued, leaning in slightly, "do any of you have connections with individuals from poorer backgrounds? You know, those who might be desperate for money?"

"Why?" all three asked in unison, their curiosity piqued.

I smirked, the wheels in my mind turning. "Just thinking of opportunities."

(to be continued)😏🥀