Emperor of Mayhem

04

// T H E P R O M I S E \\

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I didn't know why but the universe had always been good at misunderstanding me. Because clearly they didn't get what I meant once upon a time in my life when I said I wanted a fairytale life. Perhaps they didn't realise I meant living a simple life with no life drama thrown at me, sitting by my window in a cool after reading a book and watching my husband play with the kids out in our little yard, taking a walk by the park with my family of three and arguing over our tiny dinner table.

They thought I wanted to live as a princess captured and locked up in a castle by a dark knight or prince. I had no idea which one this serial killer was. I supposed dark knight. I wasn't sure there lived a prince who would chop off a man's arm and shoot him on the forehead because he touched his wife. Or did he say his woman? Damn, I forgot a lot from that night.

Anyways, here I was, trapped against my will, of course, in a mansion I had never been privileged to see a normal human being in, under the watchful gaze of a dark emperor, so devilish, yet so enchanting.

My stay here has been a lot of rollercoasters of action and drama. The first twenty-four hours was something else entirely. I wanted to escape and got caught only to be bundled right back into the room I already said goodbye to. When I wanted to take a shower because I stunk, I realised I didn't have a change of clothes. I slept hungry that night because the cook forgot that he was instructed to give me food.

It was the following day that one of the suited bodyguards came into the room carrying bags containing a few of my clothes which were haphazardly chucked inside. They even mixed outfits that I last wore when I was ten into the groups so even the little they brought couldn't last me for more than a week. They didn't even add any of the clothes I recently bought. Maybe I left it in dad's room or something.

Thinking about all these discomforts, I still couldn't bring myself to get over the idea of escaping from there. In fact, I attempted it everyday. Last night I almost succeeded after sneaking into the kitchen on realising Putin, the cook was going to head out with the truck to get foodstuffs. My plan was to find a way into the back of the car but I got caught when one leg made it inside.

Perhaps finally realising what a rebel I was, they took up safety measures. I woke up today around 6:00 AM to try my luck again but on opening the door, there were hefty men guarding the hallway down to the beginning and foot of the stairs. They all had guns tucked into their waistbands or balancing reassuringly in their hands.

But I was not giving up. I was not going to let some shady affairs dad engaged in to ruin my life. I couldn't stay here and rot away or get beheaded if dad failed to return in the next six months. I would find my way. And I would run so far away from here.

"Open the door!"

A violent pounding on the bulletproof door shook me out of my train of thoughts. And with much reluctance, I let go of the pink butterfly resting on my palm, then leaned off the window, pulling the curtains together again.

Tugging down the lilac crop top that had ridden a bit too up, I bent over to tie the lace of my hightops, then walked toward the door, my noisy baggy joggers at every step I took announcing my nearness to the door.

"Yes?" I raised a brow at the man towering over me with a good inches, his eyes hidden behind the dark sunshade. Like seriously, who wears sunshade indoors?