𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

2. The devil in the flesh

ℂ 𝔸 𝕄 𝕀 𝕃 𝕃 𝔼    𝔻 𝔸 𝕍 𝕀 𝕊

As he stood with his hands caging me against the counter, I forgot how to breathe for a fleeting moment. He was just as intimidating as people have told me. Everything about him screamed danger and trouble. The endangering and sinister aura around him. He effortlessly carried himself, full of charisma and confidence, as if he was God and everyone else was his worshipper.

"Looking for this?" He smirked devilishly, pulling out a mini pistol from his back. And that's when I realized my pistol wasn't attached to the holster.

Bloody fucking hell.

"What's wrong? Did your foul little tongue get caught in a knot?" He mocked, pressing the cold barrel of the gun against my forehead and loading the gun with a click.

Fuck. The second he presses the trigger, I am dead meat.

"No. I was just grabbing some of this." I hurled the red pepper in his eyes that I had gathered in my fist and leaped towards the kitchen exit. There was a secret way out of the back into the parking lot. But before I could reach the door, I was seized from my arm and shoved into the wall. I tried fighting his hold, but he quickly defended himself and held me in place. His hot, minty breath fanned my face as he stared down at me.

"Give up fighting, and you'll live." He warned, holding both my wrists against the wall. Every cell in my brain told me to give up against the emerald-eyed monster, but I pulled my shit together.

"Give up against a bastard like you? Never." I seethed, headbutting him brutally. His hold loosened around my wrist, and I swiftly freed myself and grabbed an empty bottle of vodka from behind me, and smashed it over his head with all my strength. My eyes widened when he stood there as if nothing had happened. Blood seeped from the side of his forehead. His daunting eyes kept me captive as he gently fished out a handkerchief and dabbed it across his face. Throwing the cloth away, he crept toward me like a hunter moving toward his prey. With every step he advanced toward me, I took a step back cautiously.

"What the fuck are you? Superman or something?!" He laughed. His laugh was soft but sinister.

"I am the devil in the flesh, sweetheart." The motherfucker bragged, grabbing the knife stuck in the cutting board and twirling it swiftly between his fingers before aggressively throwing it at me. I ducked in time and slid across the floor, striking his legs and taking him down. His eyes widened as I straddled him and pressed the blade against his neck that I had slipped out from the side of his shoes while taking him down.

"Now, what the fuck are you? Wonder women or something?" He mused, raising his hands in surrender as I hovered above him.

"I prefer Black Widow, but for you, I'm your worst nightmare."

"Well, according to Shakespeare, love is the worst of nightmares." He smirked, slowly inching his finger towards my face and tucking the loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

What the fuck?

"Hands above your head," I demanded, pressing the cold blade against his neck.

"You have got quite the nerve to order me like that." He snickered, putting his hands on his head. "You are lucky that I don't like fighting with women."