"You think I don't have control over you?" He asked darkly while looking at me like he could rip me to pieces.
I stared at him with fear, "I-"
"Every fucking night, you lay under me, screaming my name at the top of your lungs, making it pretty clea...
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「forty-two ✿ your lips my lips apocalypse」
My eyes stare blank at the folder in front of me. What was inside? Was it really my entire legacy? Why did Angelo have this?
My heart was pounding as my hands were shaking—unable to open the folder. I was contemplating whether I wanted to open it or stay in the dark of who I really was.
It was quiet. All you could hear was the sound of the curtains moving because of the open the window. It made me scared, not only scared but it felt like I'd been lied to my entire life.
I took a sharp breath and opened the folder—resulting a photograph to fall out. My brow furrowed and I picked up the photograph. A gasp escaped my lips as I saw the picture. It was woman who looked almost exactly like me, but she wasn't the only one in the picture. There was a man beside her—Victor?
"Who are you?" I whisper before turning the photograph to its back. The society ball.
The man reminded me of Angelo. He was dark and was mysterious. The man was holding a glass of wine on his hands while looking directly at the camera with his hand on her waist.
Brecketts & Moreau
A strand of hair falls in the front of my face. This photo was all the proof I needed, that Victor, the owner of the society was my Father.
I felt a mix of emotions, was it anger? Sadness? Knowing that the man who made me go through hell in the society was also my father. My flesh and blood.
Or maybe it was just the hormones. I thought to myself. I shrug the thought and tuck the photograph into my pocket and close the folder. I didn't want to read the continents of that folder because the picture already said a lot of things.
I placed the folder on the bedside table and lean on the bed while closing my eyes. I was left with just my thoughts which was now thinking of Angelo.
Angelo. One more man who destroyed my life. The thought of him made my heart tighten; it hurt and was heavy. He apologized, but I still felt hollow. I wasn't sure if it was because he wasn't by my side or because he had already broken me beyond repair.
His mouth against mine, his body pressed against mine, his hands caressing my body. I trace my lip with my finger, reliving the times when he had given me such passionate, desperate kisses. I was his oxygen, and he was the cause of my depletion.
I never knew I needed him this bad until he was gone. Why was I like this? Why was I attracted to someone who ruined me. I bite my lip and press my legs together, trying compose myself.
