His Possession

Chapter Twenty-Four:

LUCA'S POINT OF VIEW

I stumbled back in pain, feeling the burn in my lower region. I felt it lick up and travel all the way up to my back, sending bolts of repeated pain over and over. I watched as Emily's tear streaked face bolted away from me and out of the room. She dare not look back at me and continued running away from me.

A wave of anger washed over me and I stumbled up to my feet, feeling light headed and dizzy. It felt like I wasn't actually in my own body.

The sudden wave of guilt hit me once I was able to think clearly. I sauntered up to my chair and plopped down, not trusting my legs to hold my weight anymore. I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a heavy breath. What have I done? I let myself slip, and terrified to poor girl. I hadn't even realize how scared she truly was until I thought back to it.

She was shaking in my grasp and whimpering. I hadn't even realized what she was saying to me, fighting against me uselessly. My thoughts were clouded by lustful thoughts and I wasn't even able to process what she was saying. I felt like a demon.

I shoved the empty glass of brandy off my desk, shattering it instantly against the hard floor.

I ignored the ringing phone and pushed it off my desk in a blind rage, feeling it slowly eat up my entire body.

"Fuck." I muttered, running my hands through my hair.

I stood up from my chair, walking towards the door and storming out. I whizzed by all the rooms. Part of me wanted to go see Emily, but another part of me thought it was a terrible idea. Instead, I made my way down to the kitchen. It was getting later into the afternoon, and she needed to eat. I wasn't going to personally bring the food to her, but I was going to send someone to do it.

I figured that she hadn't ran back into my room. I seriously doubted that she would ever step foot in that room again. But if she had to, I would make her.

I reached the kitchen, noticing that a few of the cooks were cleaning up the kitchen. A pot of pasta sauce was left out and some old pasta. I frowned, feeling guilty again.

"I need you to make something for Emily," I started, catching all their attention. "I want her to eat and I need someone to bring it to her as soon as possible." I grunted, locking my stern eyes on them. "She should be in her room, if not inform me at once." I ordered, feeling powerful at all their widened stares.

They nodded and I spoke up again, "And bring something for me to my office." I turned on my heels and walked off back upstairs. I didn't bother waiting for a reply, I didn't want to hear it. I could care a less what they had to say.

I walked back up the stairs, pausing when I reached Emily's room. I planted my feet in front of the double doors and listened carefully, debating on entering or not. I couldn't hear much, only the faint sounds of her crying. I let out a breath, ignoring her and walking back to my office.

The guilt and sadness continued to eat up at my stomach, making me nauseous.

I slammed my office doors shut and relaxed into my chair.

I couldn't let Emily disturb my focus from my work. There were still crucial matters that needed to be tended to, and I couldn't be thinking about her.

EMILY'S POINT OF VIEW

I remained in the small protective ball for a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity to me. I had been crying for what seemed like forever, and my eyes had no more water to shed. Once, I had finally stopped crying, my tears were replaced with anger and adrenaline. I wanted to get out.