Page 54 of Destined for the Devil
As quickly as he found me, he averted his gaze and refocused on the two women. And when he spoke, his voice was pure venom—unrecognizable. "What the fuck is this?"
But that meant nothing to them because they giggled over each other, their dark joy filling up the space between all of us. "It's been so long, Roman. Steph and I were so happy to get a call from you!" The blonde turned to the brunette for a second before asking a question that almost made me gag. "You want us both at the same time or—"
"What thefuckare you doing here?" he interrupted, his voice low, those blue eyes burning in rage. He crossed his arms and demanded an answer, waiting for them to respond with something coherent, but at this, the blonde jumped up and took a few leisurely strides toward him.
Toward my boyfriend. She gotnearhim. Her little coquettish smile didn’t faze him, and he didn’t step away, merely pulled his head back.
"Oh Roman. You like to play your games, huh?" She bit her bottom lip, all of her movements seductive and fluid. "Our last visit ended so abruptly, I didn't even get a kiss!" She pouted, reaching for his arm, but he backed away quickly, a look of disgust on his face.
"I don't know what the fuck happened and how you both ended up here, but you have ten seconds to leave before I throw you both out." Roman barked out instructions, completely ignoring me.
A little confused, the two women paused, but their smiles didn’t falter. The dark-haired model now stood up too, her heels clicking as she nearedhim. "Oohh Daddy! Yes! Let's get rough, just how you like it!"
My jaw almost hit the floor when she suddenly dropped to her knees! Without missing a beat, Roman grabbed her upper arm and yanked her up, her little yelp echoing in the apartment.
"Get the fuck out." He motioned toward the front door, and as if I were the one in the wrong, I scrunched into myself when I saw Roman drag her down the hall, her feet barely able to keep up.
"Roman! What the fuck?!” The brunette protested, but he was silent. They disappeared out of view while the blonde just stood there, her hands splayed in front of her, clearly lost.
Just like me. I was lost, utterly and devastatingly disoriented.
"Roman, what the fuck are you doing?!" She breathed, but Roman was already back in front of her, pushing her down the same path.
Some other words were exchanged, but then the door slammed shut, cutting them off and plunging the whole place in deafening silence. The textbook still sat in front of me, and I stared at page number ninety-three, feeling absolutely disgusted at what I’d just witnessed.
I didn't want to see him. I wanted to be anywhere,anywhere,but here.
28
No Other Bitch
Roman
Ifhellwaspossibleto feel in the world, I was burning in it. The door slammed behind them, but their smell and filthy words still permeated the air. They were herewith her—with my Angel.
Almost running back, I found Isla still at the dining table, shoulders curled inwards, her eyes staring at a page she wasn’t reading. Her lack of reaction hit me harder than the scene I’d just experienced.
What the fuck was this, and how the hell did they end up atmy house?!They said I called them?!
"Isla." I heard the tremble in my voice, all my fears coming to the surface. But Isla didn’t respond; she just stared at her book. “Isla. You can’t possibly think I fucking called them.” I crouched beside her, trying to catch her gaze.
Having no fucking clue what just happened, I knew that one thing was clear: this didnotlook good. "Please, don't be mad over this, this is some kind of insane mix-up."
"I'm not mad.” She spoke calmly, finally tilting her head my way, and the pure hatred in her eyes was sharper than a blade.
Isla was every single sweet thing the world possessed. She was fire and heat—letting me wrap myself in her warmth. She was laughter and silliness, uplifting my dark soul with her voice and sweet spirit. She was a vixen in my bedroom, gifting me pleasure I hadn’t known existed.
But in this moment she had the power to rip all happiness out of mylife. Her lack of a visible reaction completely disoriented me. I wanted her to yell at me, to cry, to get angry and even unreasonable, but she was stoic, cold, and unpredictable.
My hand slid up her thigh, but she moved away, her words puncturing a deeper wound inside me. "Don't touch me."
"Isla, baby...my Angel...please. I'm so sorry they somehow ended up here. I didn't call them, of course!" I tried to somehow justify and explain what happened, not understanding myself exactly what just transpired!
Slowly, Isla slid out of the chair, keeping her distance. The chair separated us physically, but a vast crater of misunderstanding was growing between us. My fingertips tingled and my thoughts spun as panic began to settle inside me. This,this,was what I was terrified of. I was terrified of hurting her. Oflosingher.
"They thought I was your cleaner. Or cook. And one asked me to make her a coffee.” Isla took a step back, her words jarring. “But without sugar because…Roman likes them slim." She took another step back, tears sparkling in her eyes. "And she knew you had no milk. So she's been here before? And you made her coffee? And you—" she broke off, still taking tiny steps back, putrid revulsion in her voice.
Oh my fucking God. Whoever played this dirty trick on me was a fucking dead man.
