"I'll break down your walls one by one and sneak into the gates of your icy heart before crushing it into tiny pieces." He murmurs mercilessly as his lips lightly brush my ear, the contact eliciting an indescribable sensation through every inch of m...
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❝Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are. ❞
― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince
༄ ༄ ༄
Respect.
People often claim it is a sign of weakness to show respect towards your enemies. However, this was never my way of thinking.
Despite having enemies, I can humbly admit some of them have always earned my respect because they made a name for themselves.
Hence, showing respect to your enemies is rather a sign of strength.
But what does that say of me if I just lost all respect for someone I've considered a friend for years?
Someone who needs to re-evaluate her life choices asap.
As I storm towards the living area of the mansion, I'm unable to shift the focus of my thoughts to anything but the scene I just witnessed.
How didn't I connect the dots sooner when it was obvious something was going on between Tatianna and Ludovic?
The bitter taste in my mouth fails to pass through my larynx.
Upon shoving people out of my way and ignoring their glares, I manage to tune out the loud noises comprising loud conversations and the blasting music.
It's almost as if I'm not even in touch with reality because aside from feeling repugnance, emptiness makes its presence known.
"Anaya p-please let me explain. . ." The sound of her voice doesn't do anything to stop me in my tracks. If anything, it increases my walking speed with one thought in mind.
I need to get the hell out of here.
Once I arrive at the garden, I'm greeted by the sight of a darker atmospheric setting with the outdoor string lights illuminating the area in enchantment.
As soon as I retrieve my phone from my side purse, I instantly dial my chauffeur's number.
Dammit. I should've come to the party with my ride instead of Tatiana's.
"Anaya please. . .I-I was drunk. . ." her persistent tone sounds more audible as opposed to earlier and I surprisingly freeze on the spot.
I scrunch my eyebrows before securing a neutral look on my face.
Judging by her voice tone, it sounds like she's in tears but I refuse to turn around to observe her current state because I won't be able to control the words that come out of my mouth.
"W-won't you even l-look at me?" the tinge of desperation in her voice tone compels me to gradually turn around only to witness the despondent expression on her face.
