Beautiful angels with the devil's smile.
A story about a man and a woman who let the world love and adore them and hate and despise each other. They weren't opposites in many ways. They were more alike than than you'd actually think.
She was the de...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I looked out of the broken window making sure he was no where to be seen and was definitely not following. Once I was sure he was gone I stepped my heel on the gas pedal again leaving the cops behind me and let my thoughts consume me.
I should've killed him once and for al. That bitch busted my lip and gave me a headache. Fuck why did I loosen that tie? I could've finally killed the basterd.
I drove further and reached my father's house. It hasn't changed. The immense garden stil as filled with flowers, the wooden stables still having the dark green paint stripes on it I put there and Lurch waiting for me by the gate.
"Greetings Mrs.Blanche, you'r father had already informed me about your arrival" Lurch talked to me his usual formal voice. "Hello to you to Lurch. How's father?" "His annoying stubborn self, like father like daughter" Lurch answered rolling his eyes.
I drove towards the electric panel on the gate and put in this weeks code. Every week we have a new code. Thank fuck for my fotographic memory. We have this done for safety. Only our trusted most man know the codes.
Once I went through security the gate to the driveway opens. After I parked my car Lurch excused him self to handle some things with the staff for dinner. Lurch had been our main butler and head of the staff for over 40 years. He had worked for my grandpa and now for my father.
Once I stepped out of my car I took a second to take it al in. "3 years" I mumbled.
I walked towards the grand door and walked in. I walked in the house and I was immediately greeted by a large number of nervous maids, servants and cooks. I recognized almost each one thanks to yet again photographic memory. The ones I didn't where probably new.
They al spoke at once in the same tone at the same time " Welcome home Mrs.Blanche"
what in the 4th grade shit is this?
I roze my eye brows and asked where my father was. Al of them nervously looked down afraid to speak and look me in my eyes. Typical.
"Mr Blanche is in his office" one of the cooks Eva Miller stutterd, 27 years old, has the habit to put a straw in her apple and drink from it, daughter of the single dad Mark Miller.
Her face was sweaty, her eyes pointed down, her palms where fisted to her side.
Intriguing? Definitely not but not the slightest fuck is given
I walked to where I remember his office is. 3 years is enough.
left, right, left, the last door at the end of the hall.
