Page 5 of Darkest Deception

Like he knows this is my most vulnerable time, the only time when I let my demons take over, just so I can remind myself of the pain I caused others and how I deserve the same.

Nothing I do will fix it.

Instantly, I drop my knees forward and sit up.

With my hands shaking, I look away from the black mat in front of me and turn to glance outside my curved balcony. My curtains flap harder against the wind. Droplets of rain splatter on the marble floor of the balcony, a light warning of an incoming storm. And just like that, the calm night turns into one filled with terrors and fears. One that hides the worst of the monsters that lurk in the shadows, ready to take the souls of those who don’t deserve to live.

Sometimes I wonder if I might be one of those few who will meet their fate like this.

My heart pounds inside of me.

For more than a month, I have caught glimpses of him. Each night, without fail.

Slowly getting up on weak and shaky legs, I hold my breath as I step forward, pausing just at the threshold of the safety barrier of my house. With bare feet and nothing on my face to protect me from the dangers of the outside, no clothes that make me feel confident enough to fight back, I peek out.

And, as if muscle memory kicks in, my eyes move to that one spot on the right at the back garden. In the bushes, leaning against a tree, I see him.

And the skip in my heartbeat almost makes me stumble back a step.

Every day I see him standing there, and fear and curiosity have filled me in a way that I don’t understand. I am terrified of the man who leans against the tree every night in my garden. His hood covers the top part of his face, leaving his lips visible as he smokes. The puff he releases makes me want to run far, far away.

The first time I saw the figure, I instantly called security. They searched the perimeter of the property, but they found no one, and I didn’t see him again that night.

He was there the next day. And the next day. And the next day. I kept shouting at my security for being so damn useless that they weren’t able to catch a man who was right there every night. I changed the security team and updated the security cameras, but I was never able to catch him. I thought I was going crazy and it could be my karma.

“He was right here. How could you not see him?”

“I’m sorry, miss, but there is nothing setting off the alarm system.”

“You are working with him, aren’t you?”

Now I am alone in a mansion that is bigger than any normal house should be, with only a few maids and my security detail to accompany me. I’ve never felt lonelier than I have these past two months.

It could be life playing its own twisted game and wanting me to suffer the way I made others suffer. Maybe it thought that me trying to fight my own demons every night wasn’t enough and I needed to suffer greater fear.

So I learned to deal with it. To let the fear take over me as I watch his sinister smile take over his lips under the hood.

The sight grabs at my heartstring and pulls until I feel a painful ache.

My stalker has been here every night like a reminder that I will never escape the wrong I’ve done.

I hold still, leaning back slightly to avoid catching his attention any further, not moving a single bone or muscle in my body as I keep my eyes on him. He just stands there, his head dropped back against the tree. His sharp jaw comes into view, along with the grin that has me gasping for air.

I can’t look at him.

I can’t bear to see him.

Glancing behind me, I turn, then hesitantly close the doors to my balcony and shut the curtains, breathless and heaving.

And when sleep overtakes me, it’s filled with nightmares, which are getting worse. When I wake up, I go through the routine of showering and getting ready with nothing on my mind, and yet as soon as I grab the deep green heels that I wanted to contrast with my black suit with a mesh top, the image of a certain man with the same coloured eyes comes into my mind.

My grip tightens on the strap of the heels. Should I wear them or not?

Fuck him, and fuck his stupid smirk.

I will wear what I want.

So I do. Then I stride out of my house, climb into my Audi, and drive to the building that was supposed to be mine but is now in the hands of someone I am starting to despise. Actually, not starting to, because what I currently feel for Helia Nashwood is nothing but hate.

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