To Slow a Treacherous Heart ✓

12| Can't Love My Killer

Chapter Twelve: Can't Love my Killer

June 2018 {Three weeks later}

"Mr. Tall dark and unbelievably sexy is here again." Sang June from behind the counter.

She came out from the kitchen after finishing up the dishes, to have a peek. June was right.

"He's wearing his traditional Black Armani again." She noted. "Oh that Rolex, mmm. What a panty-dropping blue Hermes tie. I think my knees are about to give out," she said, holding on to the counter, trying to fake steady her balance. Then she glanced down. "Gosh, are those Salvatore Ferragamo black shoes? I think I'm in heaven!" she mock fainted.

May blinked. Then she turned to June and blinked. Then she burst out laughing. Just goes to prove how utterly pathetic she was in the world of fashion.

"I'm just wondering how on Earth he pays for all that expensive, completely useless-its not like you can't get a rental that looks that good for a much cheaper price," she snorted.

June rolled her eyes. "Leave it to you to bring money into the picture,"

"Well, someone has to be practical,"

She wasn't the girl she was ten years ago.

She almost laughed. Of course, she wasn't.

Ryan and Vendetta had made sure of that.

She watched as Jane gave Ryan every appreciative look in her arsenal and almost smiled. June's body might be a worker at Ronaldi's, but her mind was high up in the air with all those fashion designers.

All her free time was spent watching Fashion TV. In fact, the television set in the staff quarters hadn't switched channels in years.

She had no idea what went on in June's head.

When she'd first met June, they'd instantly clicked. She was the quiet thinker, while June was loud, but observant one. When June found out their names were next to each other in the calendar, she instantly decided that they had to be the best of friends.

She rolled her eyes at June's ogling of Ryan.

He'd been stopping by everyday now.

He would arrive at her house at exactly eight at night and walk her to Ronaldi's, and then he'd leave.

They never spoke.

The first few times he'd done it she wanted to throw him off a cliff.

She'd tell him to get lost.

Then he'd tell her that she was more in danger without him than with him.

Then she'd bring up her parents.

And then he'd repeat his words from their first meeting.

How can you accuse a person of something they have no recollection of doing?

The urge to bang his head against the wall was painful.

After an entire week if arguing, he told her to just let him walk her to Ronaldi's and not speak.

During the second week she'd spoken to Uncle Viktor again. She wanted to call the police. He'd asked her again if she was alright. She would scowl at him and tell him she wasn't crazy. He'd sighed and told her he'd talk to the police again.

Then, exactly one hour before closing time he'd come to Ronaldi's and order a dinner. She'd do her best to avoid him.

He'd somehow politely ask her to sit with him and have dinner.