Dare
The morning sun springs up in the sky, I sit on the sofa in the living room staring at a door that catches my view. I had given her just one rule, never step out of the room without my permission. I have no idea why I want her to defy me, why I want her to open that door and step out. Ofcourse I would feel good about punishing her, a little gore play doesn’t hurt. The sound of the door bell catches my attention and I make my way to the door. An unexpected guess stands there with a smile on his face. “Dare, it’s been a while” Mark says. He is wearing a blue Jean on a black leather jacket clad with his combat boot. I spot the BMW right behind him and he turns his eyes to it. “Sweet ride don’t you think” he asks and I give him a slight nod. Mark and I have been buddies, we work for the same organization until I left and decided to start afresh. When he first joined us, he was a naive little boy who needed a family, I thought him everything he knew, made sure he could stay on his back on his own. He was my right hand man, I’m certain that when I left he took over my position. “Why are you here?” I ask leaning on the door, the urge to let him in was the last thing I thought of. I didn’t want him in my home, especially now that I have company. Mark thinks like me, women are nothing but prey in our eyes, a means to do whatever we want with them. He didn’t know that before until I showed him what it was like to dominate a woman, to have her crawl to him, to beg for his mercy and his touch. “Aren’t you going to let me in?” He answers and brushes past me into the house. Despite working for the same organization, we wanted different things and that was what grew us apart, we were only alike when it came to work. I had his back and he did mine, if we didn’t work together then we would be dead by now and we both knew that. His combat boots create shoe prints on my ombré tiles, I frown at it but his unregistered access into my home is what boils me up. “This is cool” he crosses his leg and his hands tap on the side table beside him. I fold my arms together watching him, he has something to say and he is taking his damn time to tell me. He knows i am fucking impatient, he is trying to tick me off. I lean on the brown walls, my left leg raised up, my hands on my chin. He had grown a few inches and the Mustache underneath his nose reminding me of how mature he has grown. He moved forward, the sofa makes a crumbling sound, he has his elbows on his knees and then he looks up to me. “Something happened Dare” I blink my eyes showing forth an expressionless face, anything could happen, he has to be more specific if he wants a reaction from me. “The Boss, Mr Klaus is dead” he informs me. I fucking know that, I was the one who killed him but I would never tell him that. “What happened to him?” I ask instead, allowing the damn conversation to continue. Mark wasn’t smart enough to suspect me and even if he did, he had no evidence. I made sure there was no witness or clue left at the crime scene, except her but she won’t be a problem right now. He let out a sigh, I don’t know if he was affected by Boss death or he was just overreacting. We have never met him, the closest we got was hearing his voice as he sent us on assignment that claim our lives. None of us has seen his face, he made it that way so that he could never be traced. It took me eleven years to find out who he was, only his secretary could see him and talk to him. He was a retired general and there was nothing in this world that you would do to him to make him spill, I tried. “He was murdered along with his family, the news is only shared amongst us, not many people know it” He looks away from me, fixing his focus on his shoes, the room becomes silent. He pulls back up to me and I match his gaze, was he expecting me to say something. We had no relation to the man who except business. My eyes catch sight of the blood residues in his finger, he was coming from there and came over to tell me the news. “I am going to find the motherfucker who did this to him and I am going to make him pay” he threatened. “If you need anything don’t hesitate” I replied, it was the least I could do. Not like I cared about the man’s death, it was his fault for crossing me. I had dreamed of taking his life for a long time and just when he messed up, I seized the fucking opportunity and did what I had to do. I don’t care if the gang comes after me, I will kill them one by one until I am the only one standing. He bolts to his feet, “Thank you” he says and makes his way to the door. “Mark” I call before he could step out. He sharply turns towards me, “Congratulations” “For what” “You are now the head of the gang” I inform him and he nods. With my absence, he was now in charge of the brothers. He would be the one receiving orders from the higher ups, he had several men to feed and train. I couldn’t be more proud of the boy I had raised. “Thanks” I turn away moving towards the couch, I hear the door shut but the footsteps drew much closer until his eyes were now on me. A considerable amount of distance between his legs, his brows breached downwards and forward and those brown eyes darkened. “How is it that you left us not long ago and three days later, the boss is dead?” He asks.Morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains of Darla’s room, painting delicate patterns across the hardwood floor. The warmth was gentle, almost coaxing, but she remained curled beneath the covers, knees drawn to her chest, eyes fixed on the phone in her hands. It was an older model, chipped at the edges and slow to respond, but it held pieces of her past she couldn’t bring herself to erase.A hesitant knock at the door broke the silence, and Darla tensed instinctively, fingers tightening around the phone. But the voice that followed was warm, familiar, and a little rough with age.“Darla?” Marcel called softly. “Breakfast is ready downstairs. I made some coffee too—figured you could use it.”She exhaled slowly, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. Marcel’s presence was still new, a puzzle piece she hadn’t expected but found herself clinging to. He was a stranger in some ways—his eyes older, face lined with years of grief and weariness—but the kindness in his gaze was th
Ethan’s knuckles rapped against the door for the third time, the hollow sound echoing through the deserted hotel hallway. He leaned in, jaw clenched tight, heart hammering painfully against his ribcage. Silence stretched on the other side—deafening, absolute. Not even a whisper of movement.He swore under his breath, frustration spiking hot and sharp through his veins. Darla had to be inside. She wasn’t the type to ignore people, no matter how furious or hurt she might have been. Not unless…His breath hitched at the thought, fingers flexing against the smooth wood of the door. No. She couldn’t have left—not without a word, not when there was so much unresolved between them.But the silence lingered, unbroken and oppressive, taunting him with every heartbeat.“Darla!” he called, voice low but urgent, fingers tightening around the door handle. “Open up. We need to talk.”Nothing.An icy tendril of dread curled in his gut, twisting tighter with each passing second. His eyes narrowed, pu
The suitcase lay open on the bed, half-filled with clothes hastily folded and shoes shoved into corners. Darla’s hands trembled as she reached for another dress, the soft fabric slipping between her fingers as she struggled to breathe evenly. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs, her pulse a dull roar in her ears.She bit down on her lip, hard enough to sting, and forced herself to focus—one item at a time, one movement at a time. Pack, zip, leave. Simple. Necessary. Anything to escape the suffocating walls of the hotel room and the possibility of running into him again.Ethan.The name alone sent a fresh wave of panic crashing through her, her fingers faltering around the edge of a blouse. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flashed unbidden in her mind—the way they’d looked at her in the lobby, a mixture of shock and something else she couldn’t name. Something raw and aching that left her chest tight and her breath shallow.She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the memory aw
Esther’s eyes flicked to the clock on her office wall for the fifth time in as many minutes. Each tick seemed to echo louder than the last, pounding in her ears like a cruel reminder. It was past seven in the evening, the sky outside her floor-to-ceiling windows a dull gray, streaked with the last traces of daylight. Her phone lay face-up on her desk, dark and silent despite the dozen missed calls she had made.She drew in a shaky breath, forcing herself to focus on the financial reports open on her monitor, but the numbers blurred together, meaningless. The cursor blinked accusingly, a taunt to her futile attempts at distraction. Her manicured fingers drummed nervously against the mahogany desk, a tremor betraying her otherwise composed exterior.Two hours.For two hours, she had been calling Roy.And for two hours, he had not picked up. Not once.Her chest tightened painfully, a dull ache settling beneath her ribs. The same ache that had been festering since that night—since Darla h
Author’s POVThe low buzz of conversation filled the VIP section of the Rooftop Bar, but Roy barely registered it. His fingers curled around the neck of his beer bottle, the cool glass slick against his palm. It was already past three in the afternoon, and he was on his third bottle—maybe fourth. He wasn’t even sure anymore.He had come here thinking a few drinks with the boys might clear his head. It didn’t.King’s voice cut through the haze, smooth and casual. “What’s on your mind, buddy?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. The bottle in his hand clinked softly against the table, but Roy’s eyes remained distant, fixed somewhere beyond the dim blue lights flickering above.The atmosphere was suffocating. The heavy curtains blocked out any sunlight, making it impossible to tell if it was day or night. But the gloom felt fitting—an external mirror of the storm churning inside him.Darla.Her name surfaced in his mind unbidden, bringing with it a flood of memories he’d tried and faile
Ethan’s knuckles had turned red the moment he stepped out of the car, his fingers clenched so tightly that the veins beneath his skin protruded like strained cables. He flexed his hand absently, a futile attempt to shake off the tension that seemed embedded too deep to dislodge. The car ride had been mortifying, the low hum of conversation between John and Carlo barely registering. Their voices melded into the background—mere noise compared to the chaos raging inside his head.Darla.She had been right there. Right in front of him. And yet, the instant their eyes met, she had turned and fled. As if he were something to be avoided. As if he were nothing.How many times was she going to keep running from him?A sharp exhale left him, his jaw tightening with barely restrained frustration. He could never forget that face—those eyes, the way her lips parted in that fleeting second before she bolted like a coward. His chest burned with something raw and unnameable.Anger?Frustration?Pain?