"What is the meaning of this?"
In a locked room with windows and blinds shut, a tall, blond man cornered a girl. His tattooed arms caged on either side of her head, making it harder for the girl to escape.
They shared a breath; there was nothing romantic about that. She was scared, apparent from how her lungs constricted against her ribcage as cold sweats rolled down her skin.
"Tell me now, why are you doing this, Trisha?"
The girl sniffled, not meeting his eyes. The same question repeated in her head, haunting her. Why did she do this again?
Bam!
He punched the wall beside her, only an inch away from her head. "Answer me, you bitch!"
She trembled, breath shaking as her lungs desperately tried to get air and her heart beat faster. “…Florent… please don’t hurt me…”
The tattooed blond shouted right in her face. "You're making me crazy, you know that?!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so&nd
Ryan took a sip of his Macallan, humming happily as the amber liquid did its work. He was far more relaxed than when he first came to this place a few hours ago. If he had spoken to his past self from a few months ago, he’d never have guessed that a private BDSM club was a place he had ever visited.But now, Ryan chuckled while lounging on a leather couch with voluptuous girls in skimpy clothes on either side of him.“Something funny, sir?” One of the girls looked at him, showing her pretty face – the work of a plastic surgeon.He asked for a glass of water. The whiskey was good, but he’d prefer to get his head straight. It was nearing three in the morning, so he needed to be sober soon. “I wonder what Florent will looks like after the four hours stunt with the highest rated dominatrix here.”The other girls chuckled too, knowing full well that Florent Crowne was a regular at this club and known for his harsh beha
The anonymous video confessions about Florent trended in Paris and even on French news sites.Stomping his way to the dean’s office, Florent didn’t bother to knock. “What’s the meaning of this?”A paper was in his hand. The letters there said he was no longer a student at this university.A pretty woman in a grey suit rose to her feet. She met Florent’s eyes and stated in a stern voice, “You have studied here for the last three years. The least you can learn is how to read.”“I know how to fucking read, you bitch!”“Careful with your mouth, Crowne. The walls in this office are thin.”“Yeah, of course I know that. You’re the one who said that whenever I came here, remember?”The dean’s face darkened, “I said watch your mouth.”“Or what, you’ll kiss me? Just like how you did it last week?” Florent taunted.
“Come on, pretty boy. After what you did to all those girls, you can only take one punch?” Blinded by rage, Florent charged again. “Gaaargh!” This time, Florent aimed to grab Mark’s shoulder strap, pulling him closer to connect his balled fist against his smug face. It landed with a crunch, and he cackled at that. “Stand up, bastard. You want me to fight you? Then, I’ll give you one. Let’s see if I can break your teeth in the next minute.” Fortunately – or unfortunately for Florent – securities came and parted them. Mark laughed, holding his face in his hand as he shied away from the guard. On the other side, Florent was not that lucky. Two security guards grabbed his hands and pulled them behind his back. He was forced to stay still, or they’d pull his hands, making him unable to escape them. “Let me go,” he growled to them. “Let me fucking go or I’ll punch you!” “Did you hear that?” Mark said, still chuckling at him, “He said he’ll punch you. Maybe you should call the police
The flight was long, but Ryan hoped it would last longer. Not that he wanted to stay in Paris, but he figured things would get really different once he returned to the States. First, Violet would stay with him, as per their agreement, to take down the first confession video about Florent. To move out of the Crowne residence and live there with his wife alone was one of his deeply buried dreams. He never thought it'd become a reality – but here he was, phoning every real estate agent he could find on the internet for a suitable house. And now that they had landed and were about to exit the plane, he was a bit nervous about it. He wondered if he could ask Violet to sleep in the same room and on the same bed as him. Ryan shook his head to clear his thought. There's a big chance that he could pull it off, either by blackmailing Violet or using his recently acquired Special Ability – Hypnotize. However, he wasn't quite ready for that yet. Shit. He really was a coward, wasn't he? Bac
Ryan's breath hitched as he heard that word. "My son." Howard Ashford innocently said that as if he wasn't the lead role in every nightmare he had when he was a child. How dare he? Why was he here? How could he be here? [Target found.] [Please state your Objective.] TEETS's mechanical voice once again entered his mind. Ryan thought of the first thing that popped out to prevent himself from getting any more panic attacks. 'I want him dead.' [Objective submitted.] [Objective Four: Kill Howard Ashford.] "It really is you," Howard nodded in satisfaction. "I'm glad I find you now." "How did you know I'm here? No, that's not quite right. How did you know that I'm still alive?" Howard tapped his fingers against his thigh, "Why wouldn't I?" "Answer me." He sighed, surrendering at least for this once. "After you were trapped in that forest fire, I ordered my men to look for your corpse." "Why? Because you're afraid that I somehow survived and tell people what you did to me?"
Once upon a time, when Violet was not known as Violent Violet, or a promising rising star who was nominated for a grand award, she was just a little girl playing in her backyards. Divided by a high wire fence, a small woods laid ahead. And on the other side of the woods, a quiet boy peeked at her.She was the first to address him, suspecting that he was shy and was not a good boy, compared to her older brother. He was pretty miffed about it, so they bantered. That time, his name wasn’t Ryan Wilder – the scum, the ungrateful trash, the parasyte nobody wanted. That time, his name was Rayven Ashford – the bastard, the ungrateful son of a bitch, and the parasyte nobody wanted.Ryan was Howard’s son, that was for sure. His father was the only heir to a conglomerate, a tycoon himself. As the sole inheritor, having many multinational companies was his basic right. And as his son, Ryan was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. However, that was not the case.The silver spoon was covered i
Drops of water pitter-pattered against Ryan’s body. It felt good, like a thousand little massages, before they left wet patches and soaked him to the bone. His clothes clung to him like a second skin, and Ryan was glad that cold was the only thing he could feel. Howard Ashford had made a comeback into his life, barging and intruding. Now that he had a taste of freedom and to be his own person, his hated father returned to remind him of it all. A flash of red from the past crossed his mind, blinding him in an instant before another cold splash from the rain grounded him. It had almost been an hour since he stood under the cloudy, mourning sky. The rain itself, it almost felt like his current emotion now. Such coldness brings nothing but bad memories. Ryan didn’t want to remember his whole past, his whole bleak childhood. However, Violet’s presence through it all was the only bright thing in his past. And so, like a pathetic being, he wanted to remember it all – just for the sake of
Ryan couldn’t think straight. His mind kept reverting to his past, where he was nothing more than a punching bag for his own father. Days spent in the cold, dark room, hiding from the nightmare that could come to him even when the sky was bright and his eyes open. If he could get out before the beating session began, then he’d go to the woods behind their house. It had been seven days since his father returned to his life. It had been three days since the stack of papers sat in the corner of his room, where the Crowne’s house assistants used to stay. It had been three days since Howard’s assistant, Devon Kev, started calling him twice a day to ask if he had signed the documents Howard left behind. “I told you, I will never sign it!” Ryan said to his phone loudly before he ended the call. He didn’t know where Devon got his number, but it was to be expected. The Ashford wouldn’t be such a fearful family if they couldn’t even track someone’s number. However, unlike before, Devon didn