4

KATHERINE

There was no word transparent enough to describe how I felt. My heart was racing, but at the same time, I didn't have it in me to care. I didn't care if I was going to live or die. I didn't care about the possibility of surviving this heartache.

I felt.. lifeless. The hopelessness lingered over me endlessly, and there was no way to shake it off. The text I received from last night still lingered in my memory

‘I'm watching you.’

At the back of my mind, I was positive that I knew who it was, but I decided to stick to denial. Denial was certainly going to give me the reprieve that I needed from the anxiety that tugged at the bottom of my stomach.

I clutched the bottle in my left hand tightly. My throat burned from the tequila that I had gulped down a few seconds ago. My senses were already beginning to dull. I didn't know how long it was going to be before I gave it into the darkness and collapsed against the bed of the floor.

Any of the options were welcome, and I certainly didn't care about whatever was going to happen next.

I don't know if it was pathetic that I had lost a sense of time, too. I didn't know what was happening. I didn't know if it was day or night.

I didn't know if there was a meeting to attend or an event where my presence was necessary and I didn't bother to check in with my personal assistant to have an idea of what my schedule was. What was the point of any of it?

What was the point of caring about anything? I had cared for years on end, and I had invested my time and effort into the wrong place, and the only thing that I've ever gotten from it was heartache.

If I had the energy to roll my eyes at that moment, I would have. Don't be ridiculous. You invested your time into your art, and it didn't get you heartache. It gave you joy. It gave you hope, and it gave you a reason to keep going even if your heart didn't feel like it.

I wanted to scoff at the thought and discard it immediately. Maybe it was my subconscious's way of giving me false hope, but at the back of my mind, I knew that it was right.

My art did give me a reason to keep on living once upon a time. I just didn't think it was capable of pulling me out of this sabotage that I was so deeply buried in.

I doubt if it could convince me to see the bigger picture ahead. All I knew was that I had failed and I had lost everything dear to me.

How pathetic was it that Silas was the very thing that had made life meaningful for me. That he was all that I suddenly knew. His love was the one thing that gave me meaning to things.

There was a loud knock on the door. I flinched a little. I was almost tempted to believe that I was imagining things. I wasn't expecting any visitors. The doorbell followed after.

Louder, more persistent and no matter how much I tried to ignore it and convince myself that I was imagining things, it was there, being persistent and bringing me out of my reverie. I huffed under my breath.

I couldn't even sabotage myself in peace. Somehow, I didn't lose the grip of the bottle in my hand. I held on to it tighter than ever.

My head was spinning as I struggled to find a sense of balance. My legs were unstable and wobbly. I staggered a little as I stood up.

My vision wasn't so clear. It wasn't so blurry either. I head out of wine cellar and staggered past my living room, heading to the door.

“Who the fuck is it?” I snapped. There was no reply from the other end. What if it was Silas? Waiting to tell me he's made a mistake? Maybe he's come to his senses and he's realized I'm exactly what he needed.

Maybe he knows he's making a very big mistake by marrying Fontana. My heart raced at the possibility. Don't be delusional!

But I was, I felt this was the only thing that could keep me grounded, the only thing that could stop this darkness from swallowing me whole from the inside out.

My instincts screamed at me not to open this door but I couldn't resist the delusion that ate away at me. If I didn't open the door, I might never find out if Silas really came back for me.

Without thinking further, I turned on the knob and yanked it open almost immediately.

My heart fell as a giant figure towered over me effortlessly. He lingered at the doorway. As he stepped into the light. My heart dropped.

This was certainly not Silas. Kat. You moron. The longer I stared at him, the more those piercing green eyes began to become more familiar and even if my sense of reasoning had been dulled by the alcohol.

I could still recognize him. He was the man that Davis and his men had mistakenly snatched off the street. My senses were slowly becoming more sharper with panic as I stared at him.

Terrified. Fuck.

I should have listened to my instinct and ignored the doorbell. This was where my delusions about Silas had gotten me and there was absolutely nothing that I could do about it.

I had already planted myself in danger's way. He's definitely returned to have his own pound of flesh.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered breathelessly. Nothing else came to mind.

“Well, hello to you too,” he leaned against the doorway casually and shot me a smile. Empty and cold. My heart spiked with terror.

My head began to spin as I struggled to maintain my balance. I wasn't certain I could stand up for long.

The only thing I could register was my body colliding with the ground painfully, the darkness began to engulf me and the only thing I could register was someone yelling my name in the background.