10 | 𝚂 𝚃 𝙴 𝙿 𝙷 𝙴 𝙽

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ALESSA

I tried to open my eyes. My body felt numb and hurt. I couldn't move my fingers, they felt too heavy. It took me few seconds to finally open my eyes and adjust the surrounding but then, I regretted.

My eyes came to meet a pair of blue eyes. A brilliant blue, like the water that puts out the flame and those eyes, I hated the most.

Stephen Russo...

His hair was messy, giving him a beautiful and handsome look. He was staring down at me, as if trying to look into my soul, that same sinister smirk was playing on his lips and it showed his authority and dominance. His smell was dark and rich. The tic in his jaw was violent in conjunction with his flared nostrils. He looked like a wounded animal who was ready to kill, ready to devour. He sat at the edge of my bed, examining me and I could easily tell he was doing this since a long time now.

I hated it. I hated everything about him. I wanted to punch him on his face so badly until it's hard to recognize him anymore.

"Did you sleep well love?"

His rich, arrogant voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"You are going to tear off my bedsheet." He chuckled lowly, looking down at my hands. That's when I realized I was clutching onto the bedsheet to hard but I didn't care, I wanted to shatter everything in this house, demolish everything he owns, including him.

I jerked my hands away when I felt his touch on my hand that was clutching onto the bedsheet. He didn't look too happy with my behavior but you know what? Fuck him.

I took the courage and sat up, creating distance from him as I pulled the blanket to my chest protectively.

"Stay away from me!" I gritted through my teeth. My blood was boiling even just at the sight of him.

My words didn't seem to affect him, as I knew they wouldn't. Words like these are nothing to him. He chuckled, shaking his head as his fingers rubbed his chin. His face was deadly, a  mask of darkness. His eyes, the darkness in them. The evil rage that was perfectly hidden under them just waiting for the right moment to attack, attack me.

"You are so stupid, aren't you Alessa? You know you can't fight me, you know you can't escape me. You know what will happen to you if you keep up with this behavior. Then why do you even try?" His voice was dark, loud, anger danced in them. It was threatening enough to scare me to death.

Yes, I knew I couldn't run away, I knew I couldn't fight him. And I was scared of death. But I would rather die than listening to his words and letting him do whatever he wanted to my body.

"Fuck you." I mumbled under my breath. My voice came out like a whisper and cracked at the end. I didn't know he would catch my words. But it seemed like he did. The sudden change in his demeanor told me. His fists clenched at the sides and he breathed in. His body hardened  with violence. He looked bigger, enlarged with the barely leashed control and I knew I hit a nerve. A part of me was glad that he heard what he deserved to hear. He deserved worse than that. But another part of me was scared. He was a brutal and fierce man, arrogance masking his face. His structure steeled as if he owned the bloodthirsty game.

Oh God. How did I bring myself into this?

And the next moment, my breath hitched. His strong fingers wrapped around my neck, chocking me to death. I tried to claw at his hands, I didn't have enough strength left in me to fight him but I tried, desperate to break free. The pain doubled because it was his touch.

Stephen (Tainted Love #1)Where stories live. Discover now