At morning dawn, me and Emiliano arrived at his apartment.
The same scent of clean laundry and fresh coffee hit me like a truck. Comforting. Deceiving. Just like the owner.
Silence followed us here too. Just the buzz of the fridge and the coffee maker breaking the heavy atmosphere ever so slightly.
We haven't spoken since yesterday's incident. Not he tried to get close to me again.
The drive here was radio silence. I could hear our breaths and heartbeats. Like in Resident Evil.
And just like in that game, I am trapped with nothing but an invasive virus that keeps on making my body weak.
Only difference? Emiliano had a driver's license.
"I have work today. Are you going to be fine on your own?"
What am I? A child?
I scoffed at him. Pour myself some coffee. Sat down at the table.
"Luther", he said threateningly."I expect an answer."
"Oh, please. What? If I say no, are you gonna play babysitter with me?"
"No. I will tie your limbs together. That way, you sit still until I'm back."
Oh, right. He's a psycho. How could I forget?
"Don't flirt with me. You and I both know that you couldn't even finish the foreplay last night."
He smiled.
Not out of amusement, but frustration.
Satisfying.
He came closer to me. Kneeled in front of my chair.
Well, isn't this a nice view?
He placed a hand on my thigh and one on my waist. He is so close. Too close.
I gulped. It doesn't go unnoticed by him, earning me an arrogant smirk.
"Let me remind you, Luther."
He softly drew circles on my thigh with his finger. He didn't look at me.
Rather than that, he looked absent. Like he was talking to me while reading his paper.
At least pay attention to me.
"Yesterday night I left you off the hook. Do you know how easy I could make you a bumbling, melted mess? Unable to do anything but obey me?"
His hand on my waist gripped it painfully. A chill went down my spine as he continued to play with his finger.
"It's as easy as a sneeze."
"So why won't you?"
My voice came out broken. Unsteady.
I am not scared. I don't think I am. This man has too much to lose if he hurts me-
His apocalypse plan.
His sponsor, Lucrezia.
And most importantly, his pride.
So why is my body reacting like this?
I don't sense any pheromones.
Have I finally lost my mind?
"Because I like you, Luther."
He finally looked at me.
His eyes - red and raging yesterday- were now soft, honey dripping.
There was a certain sincerity and gentleness in his gaze that made me have goosebumps.
I know he is lying. He's playing me.
I feel tears rolling down my cheeks. A burning throat, stuffed nose, spinning head.
I am crying.
No, I am bawling my eyes out like I'm some kind of cheap drama character.
Have I been that starved for affection? To get this pitiable?
But then again, I was ready to jump off yesterday because I had no one.
Because I was going to be the only one crying at my death.
Would Emiliano cry?
Probably, since his plans would be ruined. Would he miss me? Would that make a difference anyway?
The weak buzzing of the fridge is interrupted by a rather tender Emiliano.
"Why are you crying, babe?"
His tone was steady, soft, too casual.
I must look like a buffon. I need to get a grip. Get my facts straight.
This is Stockholm Syndrome. He cuts me open, starves me- he made Lior like that.
Lior.
F—k. I've been so absorbed in my own little drama, I forgot a man was killed brutally.
I shoved Emiliano, making him fall.
Both of us were left looking at each other, eyes wide open, stunned.
Guess I'd better go to the bathroom since I'll spend the rest of the day tied up like a Christmas present.
He got up and dusted himself off.
Took his time rearranging his tie, straightening his button-up shirt, brushing his pants.
I can hear my heart beating in my throat. The suspense is suffocating.
Know what I've said about him not hurting me?
Scratch that. He'll have my head on a platter.
I mean, if I'm paralyzed for the rest of my life, he still can get his blood and get it on with his Mojo-Jojo masterplan.
He leaned in closer. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut.
Please, God, at least make it quick.
A kiss. Correction. A peck. On my wet cheek.
Huh?
Huh?
He looked at me smiling, before distancing himself and drinking my coffee.
"That's it?"
Ups. I thought out loud.
"Want a proper kiss?", he teased.
I almost pissed myself for this?
Should I laugh? Should I get angry? Should I feel lucky?
"So what now?"
Suspicious. This whole situation is eerie and unnatural.
Why is my kidnapper -
A basically mafia serial killer-
Acting like my boyfriend?
Stop it.
"I have to meet with Lucrezia to collect my debt. Then I have to meet your dad. Which is a headache. Makes you wonder how an idiot like that became Prime Minister."
He is munching on cookies, sipping coffee and dissing the second most powerful person in the country.
Was he always this middle-aged man coded?
So Killian was right. My father really sold me out.
"My dad- he know about me being here? What you did to me?"
He hummed dissatisfied.
"Well, he gave you to me to make you an alpha, so I wouldn't say he knows what is happening to you.Given I plan to make you such an omega masterpiece.Which is ironic, given he watched you continuously."
He watched me?
Being starved? Injected? Cut open?
"Thought the part of you kissing me when you heard the siren was disgraceful for your family. But if I'm being honest, he would have been such a whiny b—ch if he were in your shoes."
Thank you?
Was that supposed to make me feel better?
Let me at least process the fact that my father saw me selling myself for a mushy crouton first, would you?
"Anyway, I have to go now. You're likely to go into heat when I am away. Did I tell you that already?"
"Very funny. I never got into heat before."
What is he babbling about? That's impossible.
Right?
Given the smug, superior, "I am such a smarty pants and you're a dumba-s", maybe I am wrong.
"We'll see, we'll see. Suppressants could be dangerous, so I brought you here since my scent is filling the house."
"Why would I need your scent?"
"Take a wild guess."
Oh.
No.
No.
No.
No.
"You'll find shirts in the closet. You already know where I keep my body wash in the bathroom. If it becomes unbearable, call me."
My vision is going black. This can't be happening.
No. He is wrong. I can control my own body.
Yes.
I'll just chill until he comes back. That will show him.
"Gotta go. Oh. If you don't call me, I'll bring your father to a family dinner. After all, he's my father-in-law too, right?"
He said walking out.
He's gone.
And I am fine.
Sure, the air smells too much like vanilla, but it's the air freshener, right?
And I think I'm coming down with a fever.
But it rained me down to the bone yesterday,
I didn't even blow-dry my hair. It must be the flu.
I am dizzy because I haven't eaten.
What kind of scientist leaves his experiment unmatched in a moment of distress like this?
I should call him to scold him.
Yeah.
Get back home, run some tests.
That's professional. I don't want him to come back, but he needs to be a proper maniac at least.
Right?
Right.
I don't even believe it myself.
So, he was right. I am going into heat.