Hell Of A Marriage {18+}

Chapter thirteen - Devil's workshop

The phone line ends, leaving me torn and anxious about what to do next and I get too occupied that I do not expect the knock that comes on my door, causing me to jump, a bit startled almost immediately.

An unpleasant feeling coils in my stomach as I debate whether to open the door for the stranger sent here by Keenan to pick me up.

‘What if Keenan aims to get you killed?!’ my pessimistic mind yells at me. ‘That way, he won’t have to go through the trouble of divorce. What then?’

I won’t say he’s not that kind of person, because he’s a man in love and people who are in love sometimes do crazy things like getting rid of anyone in the way of their happiness. I’ve seen how Keenan acts out when Taylor is discussing, and I know his love for that woman is too deep and he’ll move every mountain if it’ll help him get to her.

I’m the number one person in the way of that. And never has my life been so endangered as it is now. Am I overthinking or is there a possibility that what I’m saying is true?

I run over to the drawer close to my bed and take out a pen and tear out a piece of paper. I, more than anything else, now need to leave a trail of evidence behind just in case something happens to me. Alian should know who handles it.

Dear Alian, 

I know I’m leaving so suddenly, but the things that have happened in the last twenty-four hours seem to have changed my whole life. It’s funny how twenty-four hours is just one day, yet capable of changing a lot of things in your life.

I thought I’d be able to tell you everything in person, but Keenan sent for me and I’m going to live with him as his wife.

Crazy right? But it’s the truth. You should believe it.

Anyway, I’m not happy about it and neither is Keenan and I’m scared he’d do something to me, like kill me.

So if you ever see my dead body on the TV or hear of it over the news, know who did it. Love you.

Varisha Klean.

The knock grows louder and I scribble over the paper into my diary and place it on top of the drawer before walking out to the living room and preventing the man from breaking it down.

I open the door and stare up at the man in black standing before me. He was bigger up close, but I was angry that he was ready to bring my door down because of his boss’s order as if his boss had a hand in getting me this place.

“You seriously weren’t planning on bringing the door down, were you?” I demand through gritted teeth, glaring at the mountain of a man standing in front of me.

“Mr Hilton asked to bring you over.” He explains, his voice thick and scary. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I would shit myself at how terrifying he was.

I roll my eyes, “Well, did he say you have to drag me along?” I rhetorically ask, crossing my hands over my chest stubbornly.

“He said to apply force if necessary.” He painted out.

I can’t believe that he gave that also as an option. That bastard!

I hiss, feeling disgusted and irritated at the thought of being forced along with this nonsense, “I’m not a dog that you just drag everywhere. Your boss is a monster! I will press charges if you lay a hand on me!.”

“You can, but Mr Hilton knew this might be what you were going to do, so I came prepared and you’re not getting out of this house except it’s into the car Ms Klean,” he tells me in a matter-of-fact tone.

The nerve!

‘Take a deep breath, Vary,’ I tell myself

There are things I’d like to argue about most days, but it’s certainly not if the big man here can make real on his promises. He can and he will.