A hand wrapped around her throat, lifting her out of bed and into the air.
A man was there, or Emery assumed it was a man, considering the black mask that covered the upper part of his face, and the room engulfed in darkness.
"You're coming with me...
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•••
The silence was deafening.
A loud noise had split through the air, that had previously been filled with breathy moans and grunts.
It was the slamming of a handbag down onto a marble table, as a young girl witnessed something she never thought she would.
"This is..." Emery started, her voice shaking with an unknown emotion,"all kinds of fucked up."
She finished, the unknown emotion then revealing itself as humor, as she cackled into the open air.
She flung her head back, the situation cracking her up as she wheezed.
"Oh, of course! Of course! A week before our wedding and I come home to find that my fiance is two inches deep in my mom. Hilarious!"
The two were both looking at her with shocked expressions, both naked and sweaty, much to the girls amusement.
"Oh, this is too much! Wait until Justin hears about this! Oh, and dad," she added with an sly grin towards her mother, who was rushing to pull her clothes on.
Panic overtook the older woman's expression, which then twisted into anger with a smidgen of hate.
"You will not be telling anyone about this, you little bitch," She hissed, now fully clothed, and pointed a finger threateningly at her daughter.
"Hmmm, I think I'll do whatever I want, because I'm an adult, and a petty one," She scoffed, "And I think you need to leave my house. Both of you."
"Baby-"
"No." Cutting him off, her lip curled in distaste as she looked past him.
"Get. Out. Don't make me repeat myself."
With wide eyes, he grabbed his pants, still being clad only in his tight boxers.
"You can't just kick me out, this is my house too," He blubbered, going against his own words as he rushed towards the door with the older woman long gone.
"Oh, is it?" She laughed, raising a perfected plucked brow, "Because last time I checked, I payed the rent here. I pay for the water, the electricity, the phone bill. And I earn that money by working. You, however, are a spoiled daddies boy who has never worked a day in his life and expects everything to be given to him."
"So," she drawled out, gesturing towards the door with a bright smile, "Get the fuck out."
He scowled, muttering, "Psychopath." as he rushed out the door, slamming it closed.
For a moment, the house was eerily quiet.
Remember your breathing exercises, Emery, in and out. Her inner voice tried to reassure her. You need to control your anger or it will consume you.
And then she got a hold of the breakables.
There was suddenly the sound of glass breaking as she threw a lamp at the door he had just walked out of, watching it break into a million pieces.
She rushed to the kitchen, grabbing all the plates and cups in her arms and slamming them into the ground, ignoring the shards that flew onto her exposed skin.
"Psychopath?!" she growled, releasing her hair from the perfect, sleek ponytail it was in, letting it fall down her shoulders in a curly mess, "I'll fucking show him a psychopath."
She stomped to their room, and grabbed his things, throwing them onto the living room floor.
Anger was something she had been taught to control.
Forced to control.
She had kept it contained since her childhood, learning that she wasn't allowed to feel what others were.
But right now, with no one watching and the hurt of the betrayal pulsing through her veins, she wasn't thinking clearly.
Her fingertips burned with the extent of her power but she didn't care.
Sparks flew from her palms and she grabbed a 1500 dollar coat of her former lover, bursting it into flames.
They licked at her palms, close enough to burn her skin but unable to harm her.
Tossing it onto the pile, she watched as the rest of his designer items burst into wild, angry flames.
Still not satisfied, she crossed the room.
Emery ran her hand over the top of the designer couch he had bought her for her birthday, watching as it slowly changed from its shining white to a burnt black.
The crackling of the burning items was the only sound in the silence.
Until the girl let out a frustrated scream, clutching her hands over her eyes as she dropped to her knees.
She squeezed her eyes closed, wishing she could burn the image of her mother and fiancé fucking out of her mind.
This wasn't how it was supposed to play out.
They were supposed to get married and protect the city together, maybe have a couple kids and a cat.
She liked everything to be planned out, clear and concise, with no room for disorder.
He ruined everything.
But he was the one walking away unfazed.
She looked around, her hands shook and her chest ached.
Taking a breath, she stood up, closing her eyes and cursing herself for losing control.
When she opened them, she realized the extent of her damage.
Now her living room was fucking destroyed.
Her bare feet left a trail of blood as she walked through the wreckage, towards the kitchen so she could wash the ash and soot off her hands.
Something caught her eye, sitting on the counter that she had glazed over in her anger.
The fucker left his phone.
With a growl, she grabbed it, making her way towards the bathroom so she could toss it in the toilet, when she felt it vibrate.
Looking down, she saw the caller I.D. and furrowed her brows.
The mayor?
Why would he be calling George?
Tapping accept, she put the phone to her ear.
"Hel-"
"No time for formalities, Georgie boy. The plan is at phase C and we need to act quick if we want to spread the council members deaths out enough that your fiancé doesn't suspect anything."
With wide eyes, the woman listened with intrigue, the words sinking in.
"Meet me in town square at 9 like we said and we'll discuss more then."
She heard the call disconnect, but was frozen in shock.
Her ex-fiancé and the mayor were planning to kill the EastSea City council members.
Fuck.
And they thought she wouldn't find out.
With a grimace, the woman threw the phone, letting the iPhone 13 shatter on the hard floor.
With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes, walking to her room and adding, "stop George from murdering city council members," to her monthly calendar.
