❝I've already made up my mind, I want you and only you. No one else... because to me, you're my kind of perfect,❞
In the ruthless world of wealth and power, Adrian Ivanov reigns as a cold-hearted man, devoid of remorse. Love holds no meaning for him...
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Visiting the hospital every day for two years wasn't what I had in mind when I turned 18. Even though I wouldn't be able to live the adolescent life most teens lived, I still wish I could go out and party or experience things like them.
I made my way through the hospital hallways and caught my breath once I stood before the door.
Alright Valentina, put a smile on your face.
I walk past the door and set the tray of food on the bedside table.
"Hello," I greet with a wide smile spread across my face.
My relationship with my father isn't the best, but that doesn't mean I need to be a less significant daughter. I've always wondered where the problem really lies, I just don't understand why he hates me so much.
"How are you feeling dad?" I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Fine," he answers taking a cold look away from me, which only saddened me. I always expect short responses from him.
There were times when I wondered if he would at least show me some affection. Especially since I'm always the hospital taking care of him. Not that I'm complaining, I love him dearly and will always make it my top priority to care for him.
"That's great. Here's your medicine," I say smiling and hand him the pills.
"I said I was fine," he responds, still facing away. Though he considered himself fine, the doctors advised him to take them anyway. He's always so stubborn.
"Dad you have to take them, you know your health is at risk," I say, during a visit to the doctor I remembered the doctor's instructions which pointed out that I should give him the pills daily.
However, my father was the type to order people, not the other way around. Why couldn't he just see that what I'm trying to do is for his own good? Even though he was already sick, my mother left us for another man years ago, and ever since then, nothing has been able to improve his condition.
Standing up slowly, he walks off to the bathroom, "Leave it on the table, I'll take it after I eat," he mumbles. I quietly nod and stood up from his bed.
Eventually, I decided to make my way out of the room. I have a job interview in an hour and I can't afford to be late.
• • •
I stood in front of the fancy club, staring at it for what seemed like an eternity. Do I want to do this?
Fuck it.
I inhale the strong aroma of alcohol, scrunching my nose as I stepped inside after doubting myself for a few minutes. In the past, I stayed away from alcohol because even a small amount results in me losing control over myself. My only experience with alcohol is that I've had it twice my entire life, I also can't stand the taste of it.
