Tu es à Moi

Pain in my ass

For almost a month, I haven't had any encounters with that man. Greg. What a nightmare. But, for some ridiculous reason, I can't stop wondering what he's doing. Why am I thinking about him? What's wrong with me? He's infuriating, arrogant, and completely unnecessary in my life. Yet here I am, my mind wandering back to that stupid man.

I shake off the thought and, with a deep breath, park my car in front of a place that's supposed to be meaningful. Yeah right. Note the sarcasm.

"So here I am, parking my car in the most precious place I've ever been in my whole life," I mutter to myself as I step out of the car. Every inch of this place screams power and control—everything she stands for.

I look up at the stairs, and there she is, in all her glorious indifference: Princess Ember, or as I like to call her, the Heartless Monster.

"Hi, Mom!" I say, forcing a cheerful tone as I call out to her. She's making her way down the grand staircase. Seriously? Of all things, she chooses the stairs over the elevator. The elevator is right there. Is she trying to make a point?

"She must have left her brain cells upstairs if she's choosing the staircase," I mutter under my breath, hoping she didn't catch that.

I'm wrong.

She turns to face me, her expression completely void of emotion. It's almost unnerving how blank she is.

"Would you mind shutting the mouth and mind of yours?" she says coldly, her voice sharp. "Wherever I go, I can always hear those annoying thoughts of yours."

I freeze for a moment, my brain trying to process that she's been listening to my internal commentary. Shit. Before I can respond, she turns back around, walking down the last few steps and heading toward the main door. Just before she passes her secretary, Victoria, she looks back at me.

"Oh, and your training starts at midnight tonight."

Then she's gone. Out the door. Leaving me standing there, dumbfounded, with my jaw practically on the floor.

It's been over five hours now, and it's well past 2 AM. I've been pushing through the brutal training regimen she set for me, and I'm still going strong. Five hours of this insanity, and my body still hasn't had enough.

I've done a thousand punches on the bag, five hundred kicks, another thousand push-ups, and I nearly lost it during the treadmill sprint at max speed. My muscles are screaming, but my mind keeps pushing me forward. There's something... driving me. Maybe it's the challenge. Maybe it's the anger.

Now, I find myself in the firing range, almost running out of bullets as I shoot target after target. Every shot lands where it should—precise, deadly. The room is a mess by now. Spent shells litter the floor, and the punching bags are torn and ragged. But the exhaustion hasn't fully hit me yet. I feel like I could keep going, like the darkness inside me thrives on the physical strain.

Finally, I stop. I'm drenched in sweat, my muscles trembling with fatigue. It's time to rest, even if my mind doesn't want to. I drag myself to my room, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. I head straight to the bathroom and pour dark chocolate-scented liquid soap into the tub, filling it with warm water. I strip down, slipping into the tub, and as soon as I sink into the warmth, I feel my body relax. For the first time in hours, my mind quiets.

But only for a moment.

As I lie in the tub, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts drift back to her—the monster. Ember. I clench my fists under the water, feeling the frustration boil up again. She's always been a pain, but what she did earlier—humiliating me, brushing me off like I'm nothing—I can't let that go. She's going to pay for it.

I can feel it creeping in—the darkness, the thing that makes me different from the others. The cold, unfeeling part of me that doesn't care about consequences. It's always been there, lurking just beneath the surface. But now, it's consuming me.

She's the deep pain in my ass, and she has no idea what's coming. I'll show her what kind of monster I really am.