Book one of "The Guns of Love" series
"we're getting married soon, mon amour," he said, his eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
"No!" I yelled, the word bursting forth from my lips without conscious thought. "I...
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Emptiness is all I see around me whenever I'm in my house. Instead of feeling lonely, I prefer to keep myself occupied with work. At 32 years old, I have found my inner peace in this emptiness. I adore the tranquility it brings - it is my solace. A sanctuary I cannot afford to lose. As I got up from my bed and looked out the window, I couldn't help but admire the view that greeted me - the lush greenery, a far cry from the chaos of the world outside. A home is a place where you can relax and be yourself, and I cherish that. Unfortunately, my house is nothing but a mere structure of bricks and architectural designs. A place to sleep and nothing more. It can never be a home, nor will I let anyone make it one. I have let go of the dream of a perfect home since childhood, and I don't need anyone to make it a reality for me. While some may find solace in the warmth of a home, I find my peace in the emptiness of my house. It is my sanctuary, and I cannot allow anyone to disrupt the harmony it brings.
As I stood in front of the mirror, I scrutinized every inch of my appearance, carefully examining even the smallest details for any imperfections. The very thought of imperfection made me revolt, as I believed that if something couldn't be done perfectly, then the person is not worth doing at all. I was determined to achieve perfection in everything I did, and I knew that this required an unwavering commitment to excellence. For me, there was no room for mediocrity or half-hearted efforts. Only by giving my all could I hope to attain the level of perfection that I desired. looking at my Cartier watch, I see it's time for me to leave for my work. taking everything I need I leave my room.
as I am about to leave my house, a voice stops me. It's my head housekeeper saying, "Are you leaving already, Mr. Sebastian?"
"yes, Ms. Anouilh. Take care of my room.", I answer her.
she is the oldest maid in my house. she is someone whom I can trust with my possessions. my possessions are something I'm possessive about and she knows how I like my things to be. before she could say anything I left the house.
As I make my way towards my workplace, I relish the sensation of being in control of the car myself. I find it hard to entrust small tasks to others, as I have always been self-reliant since childhood. Growing up, there was no one to take care of me, and this has instilled in me a deep sense of independence. Now, I have no qualms about my circumstances and the affluence I have amassed empowers me to have others work under me. stopping my car in front of a cafe I went out. coffee is something that helps me to work throughout my work. it has become my working companion. I don't give a damn if someone calls me crazy for drinking 8 cups of espresso in a day.
on my way out, an unknown person bumped into me causing the coffee on my hand to fall on the ground which could have almost fallen on me. looking at the person angrily I yelled, "Are you born blind or you don't know how to walk"
