His Sweet Payback
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- Parts 35
Romeo used to think he will marry his high school sweetheart.Her name is Valentine Xacar.She's everything he could ask for.She's kind,generous,and beautiful.
Romeo was the guy every high school girls dreamed to date with.But yet he chose Valentine.He said it was live at first sight.Valentine was the only one had his heart.She is his world.
But everything change when She suddenly broke up with Romeo with the reason of money and fame.She left him.She left him heartbroken that day.
From that moment he promise to never got fooled by any women and to get revenge when he met her again.
Oh no it's not just a revenge.It's going to be a sweet payback.
________________________________________________
"Ckckck...Valentine,do you think i will let you slip easily this time?After what you've done to me."His voice raised at the last sentence as I squirmed back.
"Back away,Romeo!"I quicken my breath as i look around.
No escape.God help me!
He sense my fear as he dangerously stepped forward more as i kept moving backwards until my back hit the wall."Oh no darling,this time...i will make sure to let you feel what i felt."
"And be ready...because payback is painful."He whispered to my ear before slumped his lips on mine.
I think it will be more than the word painful.
I regret ever breaking his heart.The man like Romeo Xander.
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#88
payback
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A scent. A scar. A slow-burning fucking romance dressed as nostalgia. It started with a fruit. Not love, not sex - a goddamn strawberry. The kind that looks like it's been kissed by every shade of red your childhood never had. He didn't share it. Didn't speak of it. Just tasted it once, and carried the ache ever since. Years later, she walked in - smelling exactly like that forgotten sweetness. Not perfume. Not fantasy. Just... truth. Sharp, quiet, terrifying truth. The kind that crawls under your skin and whispers remember me when you least want to. He lied to her face. About himself. About the million ways he'd already started unraveling. But she knew. Women like her always know. She stared at him like sin dressed in judgment - and touched his wrist like she already owned his pulse. And he? He was fucked. Because she wasn't just beautiful. She was red. That memory. That craving. And no matter how much he pretended to be in control - she was already in his bloodstream. This isn't a love story. It's a slow possession. By scent. By memory. By her. And it ends exactly how it starts - with him on his knees, and her smelling like fucking strawberries.
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