Lahat ng Kabanata ng Corrupt Temptation: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

AUTHOR'S POV. The constant click-clack of Alissa’s high-end heels reverberated throughout the grand sitting room which is typically a haven of subdued elegance. The polished marble floor was a scarlet blur of agitation and well-manicured rage as she paced back and forth. With every agitated step, her red hair a fiery halo of indignation seemed to vibrate. Sitting comfortably in a velvet armchair with a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand was Jeremiah whom everyone knew as Jerry. His eyes were focused on the elaborate designs of the Persian rug underfoot as he watched her—or rather he didnt watch her. His face was a masterwork of exhausted patience a man accepting the impending storm. Finally yelling “Can't you see what's going on Jeremiah?” Alissa turned to face him and spoke in a frustrated tone that implied he was deliberately trying to be obtuse. Jerry's eyes rolled with a deliberate almost artistic fatigue as he slowly raised his gaze. With the ice clinking softly he t

IVY.At the very moment I collided with that hard figure, my heart practically jumped out of my chest and I staggered backward my bare feet scumbling for traction on the polished smooth floor. From the shine of flawlessly polished leather shoes up the dark unnaturally long legs and past the immaculately fitted body that seemed to reach the sky my shocked eyes shot upward. I braced myself for the sight of Sloans omniscient frustratingly calm face. Although they were icy and sharp the eyes looking down at me werent Sloans. These werent the same. More hard. More worn. And yet. . . strangely familiar. In spite of the adrenaline rush my brain frantically searched through its internal database. The man was enormous. Where had I seen those eyes before? Had they been hiding in the background of one of those eerie old photos of the Crimson Order? Or had they appeared in a particularly troubling dream involving extremely well-organized gnomes? I felt my breath catch in my throat a flutter o

SLOAN. The heavy leather belt felt like a familiar weight in my hand, a precise tool of consequence. To deliver the last decisive blow that would break her defiance, crush her insolence and compel her to obey me completely I raised my arm muscles coiling ready to strike again. Raw and piercing her screams ripped through the atmosphere sending shockwaves through chilly room. Her voice was an agitated broken cry for mercy as she begged and pleaded. Then I came to a halt. My arm froze poised in mid-air. I gasped as a sudden searing constriction and a sharp unexpected pain shot through my chest. It was deeper and more eerie than it was physical. Her scream of agony that unadulterated primordial scream had oddly seemed to pierce something inside of me that I had long thought was completely impenetrable. Within the masterfully composed symphony of my command it was a discordant chord. It was unbelievable. How? How could this furiously stubborn womans pitiful disobedient cry have such a

SLOAN.My office’s heavy oak door slammed shut with a resonant soft thud enclosing me in the peaceful haven of my control. Outside the mansion had become accustomed to the quiet evening rhythm. An old battle raged inside. Ivy. As I carried her I noticed her pale tear-stained face, the raw bleeding welts on her back and the slight tremor in her tiny frame. I couldn't get the pictures out of my head. They were as obstinate as the woman herself. Approaching the floor-to-ceiling window I looked out at the expanse of land that was now engulfed by the approaching dusk. My fingers brushed the cool hard lines of my phone as my left hand automatically slid into the pocket of my pants. I felt the familiar burn of the extremely potent whiskey as my right hand raised the crystal tumbler to my lips. I wanted to forget about her. Off the disorganized nonsensical whirlpool she appeared to create in my painstakingly structured universe. I couldnt put up with this constant gnawing feeling in my che

IVY.The unwelcome reminder of Sloan’s cruelty was the dull throb in my back. However a shaky calm had descended upon me in spite of the bruises. The soft bed, Arthur’s easy humor, Sophia's gentle eyes and the reassuring but tasteless food they brought me had all been extremely helpful. My body felt less like a used cloth and more like a human being who had been slightly damaged but had recovered. I had even gotten in a half-decent nap. Feeling slightly less like a wilted houseplant I returned to my own room after expressing my gratitude to Sophia and Arthur for providing a tiny essential lifeline of normalcy in this completely bizarre mansion. With my hand poised on the chilly metal knob I paused at my door. The stark icy idea of leaving sliced through the tenuous calm I had discovered. simply running away. Like a ninja with extremely sore back muscles vanishing into the night. I bit my lip while considering my options. On the one hand freedom is wonderful and wonderful there are