Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure - Paulo Coelho.
The moment Sapphire laid her eyes on the man again she knew she was doomed. Desperately trying to move on from the man who had previously caused her so much hear...
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It couldn't be he was dead, I watched him die.
The stubble he had sported was now grown into a beard, his cold blue eyes were void of emotion as he drank me into the dark pools of sorrow.
My legs gave out beneath me, a sob racked through my body as I looked at the man I loved. The man I thought had left me in this horrid world by myself. My Darien.
Peter held me up as my eyes stayed glued to the ghost in front of me. His eyes, so cold and dangerous as I feared more than ever.
"I'm dreaming, you're dead," I cried as Peter pressed my back to his chest, a cold blade pressed to my throat. I had no care for death, seeing my Darien before taking my last breath would be worth the sacrifice.
"You're dead!" I screamed as the tears poured down my cheeks, the taste of salt water entering my mouth as I sobbed.
It wasn't real.
My mind was playing tricks on me. A cruel trick for payback of my sins.
I gasped for breath as Peter wrapped a hand around my throat as he pressed the tip of the blade into the side of my neck with the other hand. Dying would be better than being his prisoner the rest of my life, if it meant my brother would be safe I would happily die.
"You come one step closer and I will kill her," Darien watched me closely, his eyes taking every inch of me in, every cut, bruise and dirt stain.
The men around the room pointed their guns to Peter, the man who had been standing holding a gun to my brothers head previously was now on the floor in a pool of his own blood. I felt no remorse, his death would of been slow and painful if I had the chance.
"You are outnumbered," his voice alone was enough to almost make me collapse as Peter held me up with my throat, loosening his grip once every few seconds to allow me to breath. The voice that I never thought I would hear again.
"I have what you all want though, shoot me and I will put a knife in her throat," Peter hissed as he pressed the knife into my neck. I whimpered in pain as I felt the wet substance slowly run from the wound; blood.
Darien stilled, his eyes full of a war as he held his own gun in his hand, by his side.
