Iris POV

I let my body sink into the mattress. My back pressed against the sheets, my eyes fluttered closed, and warm tears escaped the corners, disappearing into my hairline.

It is nothing new for me, but I never thought my father would go this blind in power ignoring his daughter marrying her, not sealing her to the criminal.

I closed my eyes hoping for the same peace getting lost in my world.

In sleep I listen to the sound of cracking then footsteps like someone is coming. Who will come here? I try to ignore it because it is maybe midnight and I often get nightmares so vivid they feel real. I turned away, ignoring it.

But my consciousness telling me to wake. I feel like someone is watching me, it is too strong. My eyelashes opened slowly but as soon as I opened my eyes, my sleep vanished like smoke.

A figure was the first thing I saw when I woke, sitting on my bed beside me and in a flash I felt a hand on my mouth burying my scream that had come to my throat. He hovers over me in the next second.

His whole weight is on me. I know he is a man because of the weight and the body structure I saw and felt, from the dim light coming from a lamp in my room. I can’t even move. I tried harder, my heartbeat had increased, a thin layer of sweat crept on my forehead.

He landed towards my face and I saw sharp brown colour eyes.

‘Xavier.’

I can never forget his eyes and my fear increased double. Why is he here? I try to get out of his hold or scream but it’s not helping. I bite hard on his hand which is on my mouth. The metallic taste hit my taste buds but his expression doesn’t change like it’s nothing. Not even a wince.

I try to move my legs so I can show him the star in his balls. He is so heavy I can’t even feel my legs.

He whispered, his voice was dangerous, “If you try to move one more time I swear I will fuck you here senseless till you pass out.” I froze, every inch of my skin crawled with terror.

My whole body is getting goosebumps from the way his eyes are looking at me. “I don’t give false threats for your acknowledgment.”

I don’t fear anyone, but this man makes me feel fear because I have seen the inhuman things he does with my own eyes, and I know he can do anything because he is a sick bastard, the cruelest person I have ever seen.

His dark brown eyes are continuously watching mine. If he weren’t a bastard, I would have appreciated his eyes.

Those fire-like flames in them make them the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. The long scar across his eye, from forehead to cheekbone, along with the many small scars scattered on his face.

If he were a normal person, I would have asked the story behind them.

His eyes continuously looking into my eyes, and how badly I want to pluck them out.

Through the thin fabric of my shirt, I can feel the firm muscles of his chest pressed against me. The most noticeable sensation, though, is something hard and warm pressing against my stomach.

As my senses work. I look at him furiously. That silly smirk that formed on his lips after my reaction is making venom run through my body.

“I never knew… only by looking into your eyes, and barely touching, I could get this hard,” he said, his tone dripping with lust. “I’m taking my hand off, but I dare you to scream.”

“You're shaking, in anger. I like it.”  he said as a half-smile tugged at his mouth, mocking.

As he slowly moved his hand away, his gaze dropped to the mix of saliva and blood on his hand. He brought it to his lips slowly, and licked it clean, his tongue tracing the mess as though it were the sweetest.

His eyes met mine. “You are so sweet, I can’t wait to taste you little one.” From his words from him I am only feeling disgusted.

“Move away,” I said, gritting my teeth. He raised his eyebrow challenging me like if you want me to move then ask properly. I take a deep breath trying to control myself from punching his face.

“Move away, you are so heavy,” I said with irritation.

“You have to take more weight in the future, little thing. You get tired of this only.” The smirk that formed on his lips while he looked at me, and those lustful eyes I just wanted to drive a sharp knife into them and pull it out.

One day, I will.

He swiftly got up, his hand snaking around my waist. In one effortless motion, he pulled me onto his lap. His arm tightened around me as he buried his face in my neck and inhaled deeply.

I struggled, desperate to get away from him. His touch burned against my skin, and even breathing the same air as him made my stomach twist in disgust.

“Stop.” That was enough for me to stop. I sensed the warning in his tone.

He ran his fingers through my long wavy hair that reached down to my lower waist. “Your hair is soft and elegant,” he murmured as he inhaled their scent. “But they are not the most beautiful feature of your body.”

As I turned to him, all my life, I had been told my hair was my most beautiful trait, that they defined me in a way

“Your eyes.” He pushed his intense eyes, burning into me. “They are addictive… like fucking drugs.” My heart increased, there is something in his eyes like a promise, a dark promise.

His hot breathing is touching my skin, shiver run through my body. He pulled away his one hand and as he grabbed something from the back of him……. gun.

My heart stopped and my whole body froze from fear. He looked at my expression. His lips curved into a dangerous grin.. He grabbed my hand. My hand trembled. He put the gun in my hand.

“This is a gift for you from your future husband.” I held onto it, the cold metal touched my hand.

“I don’t want it,” I said with a mix of fear and determination.

“You have no choice,” he said. His tone was dark and final. “You are going to be my wife and you need it because it’s our tradition.”

He is a twisted person. He can do anything, make you think everything is right, and make you think that you have won. He’s the king of the games, and everyone around him is nothing more than a pawn. He lets you think you’re in control, but every move is his design. Even with this  gun in my hand it’s not just a gift. I can’t trust him.

His fingers run across the gun. “Let’s test your skills.” He makes me stand and walk around. My heart dropped at his statement.

He takes a photo of me with my class children, from the table close to the window, but he quickly puts it down saying, “I don’t like them.”

“Okay let’s test your skills.”  He said his voice was filled with calmness. But I know better not to trust him.

“I am your goal, you have to shoot at me anywhere on my body, you can shoot.”

My hand got cold and fear was there but looking at the gun in my hand and the hatred I have for him is another thing.

I held the gun, aimed at his chest, and fired. The shot echoed through the room.