My Tattooed Nemesis
Then, I saw him standing by a door to a room, or somewhere.
He had taken off his shirt. His upper body appeared bigger. They were tattoos all over his back, his trousers hung low on his waist, dangerously low.
I could run my hands through this type of body all day without getting tired.
He was receiving a phone call. He was immensely focused.
I stood still, waiting for him to finish.
His words didn’t make sense at first, until it got to the part where he said:
“She doesn’t know a thing. I have it all under control… In the end everything will be mine.” His words made me tremble.