"No secret has ever left Eternia." He said, his hot breath burning against my skin.
I wanted to run away but there was something that rendered me unable to move.
"... And you're my little secret too, Ilsa."
••••••••••
Who is Vincent Rivera?
Nothi...
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It was the end.
I could sense it in the stifling air of Porsche as it rolled forward, carrying me to my self invited catastrophe.
Various shades of green merged with each other in a blur of alluring motion as the car raced through the damp roads. Green was supposed to be calming. So I looked out through the window. It didn't work. His presence next to me overpowered every element that could help me quell the ever increasing fear.
It was like the distant din of an approaching calamity ran towards me in full speed with every mile we reached closer to our destination.
Nothing had happened so far. But something told me a lot was about to happen. I was regretting it already.
Why couldn't I sense it before? Why did I agree to this?
The answer was simple. Greed.
My greed for safety pushed me into more dangerous waters.
My phone pinged, jolting me out of my thoughts and at the same time making me wonder who would ever text me. Like every time, I couldn't decipher what I felt when my eyes pitched to the bright screen and didn't find Damien's name in the notification.
What I did receive was the classic Vincent stare, so intense and so lethal that it shuddered up the soul of the person on the receiving end of it. I would never find the courage to meet those eyes. Neither would I be able to fathom what silent orders that look carried. The look was always the same— dark and blank. But it always dictated a new command every time.
So I instead focused my gaze on his hand leisurely rested over the soft leather of the handrest. The Vacheron Constantin on his wrist kept ticking, mercilessly ignoring my silent request to run in reverse until the time where I still had the chance to decline his offer.
I mutely watched his slender fingers unfurl, those terrifying eyes still rooted on me. My heart raced faster than this car when he stretched his hand out towards me, impatiently waiting for me to follow his command.
"Your phone."
No. He can't do that. There was no way I was going to do so.
"Miss DeVonne." His jaw ticked and he leaned in towards me, making me shrink deeper into my seat.
I found myself raising my hand up in a slow and shaking motion until I dropped the device into his outstretched palm. A pleasing grin formed over his face while I wondered how would I build up the courage to look at myself in the mirror. Was I really so incapable and timid to even fight for my freedom?
My fingers fidgeted with the hem of the expensive beige dress, the smooth linen feeling foreign against my skin. For the first time, I prayed for us to reach the destination soon. Being in here with him was suffocating, especially with his eyes constantly looking up and down at me. My discomfort was entertainment to him.
