Stephen (Tainted Love #1)

13 | 𝚂 𝚃 𝙴 𝙿 𝙷 𝙴 𝙽

ALESSA

Now the devil owned me. He won. I lost to him. He proved that he could do anything and everything to keep me captive for as long as he wanted.

My skin crawled with disgust. My fingers itched to take the bloody knife and slice his skin into million pieces. But I stayed quiet.

I stayed quiet the whole time when Stephen swept me in his arms and carefully walked out of the dark room, leaving Lorenzo behind to take care of the dead body.

I didn't move, I didn't utter a single word when he entered the familiar gigantic bedroom with me in his arms and carefully put me on the bed. I didn't even look at him. Everything about him disgusted me.

I closed my eyes, rewinding everything that happened in just one night.

I hated myself. I hated myself for telling Stephen to kill that man. He was bleeding, begging for his life. What if I told Stephen not to kill that man? I could've saved his life, right?
What about his daughter? Stephen would kill her too.

My eyes fluttered open at the feeling of a sting under my feet. Stephen slowly held my legs and rested them over his thighs as he settled himself at the corner of the flush bed. He took out a clean cloth from the first aid box and applied gentle pressure on my wounds under my feet with it. He elevated the wounds softly and silently until I stopped bleeding.

I flinched when he applied ointment over my wounds.

"It would hurt a little at first," he spoke, his voice suddenly soft and gentle. He blew over my wounds as he applied the ointment.

Why was he acting so concerned all of a sudden when he was the one who caused all the pain? Why couldn't he leave me alone?

I watched him intensely. His sharp eyebrows frowned, his nose scrunched every time I flinched in pain. His hands careful and gentle on my skin. His beautiful blue eyes checking my bruises... with concern? It was as if he was scared to break me.

He was the same man who killed someone so brutally few minutes ago.

I clenched my fists, my teeth gritted. I was disgusted by his touches. I wanted to slap his unholy hands away from me. But it was pointless, even wondering. He has already captured my king. And I could do nothing but dance to his words.

I wish he would draw a rope so I could pull it from my flesh and hang him with it.

He deserved it.

"It's done." He mumbled as he checked the bandage one last time before looking at the wounds on my arms. Before he could move any closer, I spoke.

"I can do that."

I can do everything on my own. I don't need your fucking sympathy and help to treat me. Oh should I just remind you that you were the reason why I am suffering? I whispered in my mind, making sure he didn't listen.

"You are not making any decisions here, remember?" He stated, leaving no space for argument.

The next moment, he moved closer as he treated the wounds of my arms carefully like he did to my feet.

"Rebecca will bring you food and clothes," he spoke. "I'll be going out to handle some business for few hours. So I want you to change your clothes into comfortable ones, finish your dinner without giving Rebecca a hard time and go to bed. It's been a long night for you."

My blood boiled. "What if I don't?"

"Don't what?" He was focused on treating my wounds.

"What if I don't listen to you?" I asked, being careful with my tone.