The dinner is being hosted by a family restaurant. The second I step out of the car my nose is welcomed by a pleasant mix of aromas dancing in the air. The place is decorated with gorgeous lights and flowers which uplift my mood. The sight of the place alone calms me. As the saying goes, looks can be deceiving. Who would guess that such a cosy family restaurant would host the most dangerous of criminals that roam the streets? Monsters of every kind are hiding behind those closed doors. You wouldn't want to eat with mafia men even if you were on your deathbed, they are the most hazardous kind of people. In the past I used to dine with plenty of them, my papa advertising me like a shiny new toy at the dinner table and those men undressing me with their filthy eyes. Some inappropriately tugged at my dresses under the table. Yep, dining like this definitely brought back bad memories. I doubt any of them would try anything with Roman around, then again you can never be too sure that's wh

I think I fell asleep sometime in between the crying. I'm awake now and I feel a little less emotional than before. My rooms pitch black and according to the clock beside me it's three in the morning. All traces of sleep have evaporated into thin air as usual. It's not like I usually sleep for longer hours anyway. Everyday like clockwork I wake up at three on the dot no matter what time I go to bed it's always the same time.It's usually because of the nightmares I have. It's been a while since I've had proper sleep. I slip my feet into my slippers and step out of bed. Unfortunately, I'm still in the dress I wore yesterday. A quick shower will do. I strip out of the dress and head to the shower. My body relaxes as the hot water massages my skin. What am I going to do about Roman? I sigh. I'll just avoid him, try my best to keep our conversations at a minimum. I doubt that will work. My stomach rumbles, that's right I haven't had anything to eat since lunch yesterday. I wonder if Rom

I haven't had any dramatic or life threatening experiences this last weeks. I guess my husband really is handling it. I'm getting rather bored and I can't help but feel useless. Plus my thoughts, my damn thoughts have been eating me up. Life's too peaceful, way too peaceful and for the past few days I've been feeling on the edge. I feel like something bad is going to happen. Roman's keeping me in the dark, on the sidelines ugh. I feel like I'm a side character in my own life at the moment. He's keeping me safe. I'm grateful, I really am but such security isn't going to last long is it? I don't need to be shielded. I need to face the danger eventually. It's better I do it with him instead of alone right? It's not helping that I barely see him and when I do he's either in his office arguing with someone on the phone or him retreating into the elevator doors early in the mornings. He's a busy man I know, I feel a little lonely in that big penthouse. So you can say I really don't see him

The clock is ticking, people's lives are in my hands. The mental anguish is killing me, my father has always loved games like this. Even though my body is trembling and seconds away from hitting the ground I suck it up. I take deep breaths and put on my mask. I bury all my emotions inside a dark pit at the centre of my core. I step out of my office. I pass by Annie who's seated behind her desk who waves gingerly at me. It takes everything in me to be able to meet her gaze and smile back. I already feel sick to my stomach. Still I keep walking, my legs getting heavier with each step I take away from her. "Mrs Micheals, what time will you be back?" She calls out. I stop in my tracks. I don't face her. I don't turn. I can't turn. There's a heavy silence that fills the place. The words are at the tip of my tongue but I can't say them. Time is ticking, I should be sprinting out of the building."I won't be back for a while.""Is something wrong Mrs Micheals?"My fingers grip the hem of

The room has white walls or rather had white walls. Coated in blood now and decorated with several pictures of me. Dating back to my college graduation day. Scribbles and markings are on some of my pictures with words like "slut", "traitor", "basard" "devil" "disgrace". I feel both disgusted and angry. This is sick and psychotic. I finally discover what was causing that terrible smell. Up ahead on the wall is a dead dog pinned. It's eyes are missing and so is its nose. The words "This will be your fate Lana." Is written in blood above its head. I won't lie and say I'm not terrified. I am, I'm extremely terrified. Each time my eyes scan the walls my fear gets intense. I am however also feeling immensely disgusted and angry. All these feelings are mixing up together to form an unstable potion inside of me. A potion that ignites my rage, more especially my thirst for revenge. My bloody thirst for revenge. I've never felt it at such an intensity before. I just want to tear everything