AFTER NEVER (Charlotte's Story)

Chapter 53/125: The Target in the Photogragh

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The dark, drunken, fellas exchanged looks, and some even started having wicked smiles creeping over their lips.

"That fucking gambler's daughter, I see." The words sent shivers over my skin, and I shuddered.

"Huh?" I gasped, my eyes widening.

The guy with the scar laughed, as he rubbed his chin, still gazing at the photo in between his fingers.

"I never thought it would be this easy," He laughed loudly, and turned up towards me.

"Now, now. We have some things to sort out, Miss 'daddy's princess'." He purred out the last words.

Bile rose to my throat, and a hundred thoughts hit my head at the same second span.

Just what is...

'Gambler's daughter' ─The drunken's voice echoed.

'Daddy's princess' ─That echo again.

I clenched my teeth, "I..." I started, trying to collect my voice, "I do not know any of you." My voice was hard, yet shaking with pure fury, as I hardened my expression.

The pile of muscles beside me did not move, not even a sound escaped him.

And yet, looking in his direction, I noticed the deep, deadly and fatal look he was observing the drunkards with.

I wet my lips, and turned to the men again, as their chuckles echoed suddenly.

"Oh but we know you, baby." He licked his lips, "We know you so well."

Raising the photograph between his fingers up, I gasped with wide eyes, and left my mouth to hang open.

The familiar brown hair cascaded in soft curves down the young girl's cheeks and shoulders, and the hazelnut eyes held a cheerful sparkle. The smile plastered over the freckled cheeks over the girl in the image was way too intimidating.

I gulped.

No way.

"Wh-Why do you have this... Picture?" I choked, my voice hard and my teeth clenching.

It was my image back in elementary.

This photograph was one of my father's favorites, and he always told me he carried it around for good luck.

How did this guy get it?!

The scarred fellow laughed again, as he lowered the photograph at that, and arced a brow.

"'Seems to me your daddy had truthfully left you in the dark about his reputable..." He paused, teasingly, and my heart clenched, "Activities."

A sharp knife piercing through my chest might've felt better than the pain which just radiated through my entity.

I bit my lips, hard, "What do you want with me?"

The scarred-face chuckled in satisfaction, "Now, I'm glad you actually managed to reach the fact that we do want something with you," He licked his lips, "The 'something' we want, though, is better be explained in private."

The crew laughed, and so did he.

As for me, I clenched my fists, and felt bile rise to my throat.

It was a painful feeling of pure being let down.

It suddenly occurred to me that the cold Adam of my president had yet to walk away from me.