belladonna | alejandro vargas ✓

【Chapter 12】

The loud crack of her fingers caused Alejandro to look up at her from the paperwork he was currently working on.

"Sorry," Beadie mumbled, feeling embarrassed under the weight of his gaze.

But to be honest, she felt pathetic. She thought she was a tough soldier and had a place among the men here. That she could be something similar to them. But she was slapped in the face by reality, her soul broken and mind scattered.

She had no place to be here. She was too weak.

"Bella."

The new nickname caused her gaze to shift towards him, not rising higher than his hands. She was too afraid to look him in the eyes after all that happened. She still felt her cheeks heat up at the thought that she just collapsed in his arms.

"We don't have to do this right now," Alejandro spoke softly, like he was afraid that she would run away he would speak louder. Shame washed over her, her entire body heating up.

"I'm fine," Beadie croaked out, clearing her throat to sound more confident. She just had to mask her true feelings like she always did. Not much trouble.

The blonde leaned back in her chair right in front of Alejandro's desk, trying to get more comfortable. He had a somewhat nice office, she observed. It was a little messy, it was a little too dark because the window was too small, and the chair she was sitting on dug into her shoulder blades uncomfortably.

Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his, her heart skipping a beat. She expected him to be cranky, even annoyed that the mission didn't go as planned. He had every right to be angry at her. But the gentle look in his eyes and calm face almost made her cry again.

Maybe she should've reported to Ghost, that way she could blame his scary self for making her cry. Alejandro's gentle and warm nature was way scarier.

"You sure?" he raised an eyebrow at her, and she nodded. She wanted to get this out of the way as soon as possible. She would have plenty of time to cry herself out afterward.

Alejandro let out a sigh and dug around for some paper, the light of his monitor casting a sharper light against his features. Beadie let herself observe him for a little longer than appropriate; she needed to distract her mind a little.

"Well," he cleared his throat as his dark eyes scanned over a paper in his hand, lips pursing before he looked back up at her. "My sources say there was a total of 27 men that died from poisoning, and there are 18 more in hospital. Some of them might not make it through the night."

"Good," the word slipped from her mouth, instantly regretting it.

"You did what you had to."

That wasn't the problem. The problem was that she felt no remorse over killing so many men. They were all awful people, taking advantage of so many girls. And God knows what else did they get their hands dirty before Beadie took them out.

"Is it bad I don't regret it?" the woman asked, continuing to fiddle with her fingers, her pulse quickening. The sweater she received from their storage was too big on her, the sleeves almost swallowing her hands whole.

But she needed this little comfort. Despite the dark sweatpants covering her legs and oversized sweater, she still felt exposed, feeling the silky and airy fabric brushing against her skin. As soon as she got back to the base she threw the thing on the floor, heading for the showers.

But she still felt filthy. Like the darkness of the mansion seeped into her pores, poising her the same way she did the men.

"No," Alejandro shook his head, placing down the paper atop of many others. She didn't even know what color his desk was, it was so full of papers and folders. The messiness calmed her down a little.