Page 9 of Felix

My eyes dart around the basement, greedily taking in every detail of the chaos I have created. It’s a macabre scene, almost like a demented work of art with splatters of blood decorating the walls and floor. The sweet metallic scent of blood still lingers on my skin as I climb the stairs. The odourof death and saltwater permeates the air, clinging to me like a second skin. However, it is not an unpleasant smell for me but a reminder of my power and control. My body aches from the hours spent inflicting pain upon Maxwell, but it is a satisfying ache and one that fuels my insatiable thirst for dominance.

I cautiously enter the bathroom, turning on the shower and listening as the water splashes against the tiles. It swirls down the drain in a deep crimson hue, reminding me of my sins. I scrub at my skin with determination, desperately trying to wash away any evidence of what just happened. Once finished, I hastily throw on some comfortable sweats and a worn T-shirt before collapsing on my bed. Exhaustion and guilt weigh heavily on my body. I tell myself I’ll deal with the mess downstairs and look for flights to the Gold Coast after a quick nap.

As I lay there, drifting between sleep and consciousness, my phone suddenly buzzes on the nightstand. A random number flashes across the screen, causing confusion to flood over me. With blind hands, I answer the call, unsure who could be calling from an unknown number.

My voice, raw and hoarse with exhaustion, bounces off my bedroom walls as I demand, “Hello?”

There’s a brief pause before a tired, sweet voice responds, causing my heart to race. It’s Aurora. She called me. She reached out to me.

“It’s Aurora,” she confirms, her tone filled with weariness. “The chick from the restaurant.”

“Aurora,” I reply, trying to keep my voice calm despite the excitement coursing through my veins. “I’ve beenexpecting your call.” I can feel myself reeling her in bit by bit.

“Cut the crap,” she snaps, her tone suddenly sharp and demanding. “Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck is Angel? And how the hell did you get my email?” The words tumble out of her mouth as she demands answers down the phone line.

“Easy there, darling.” I smooth my voice as it travels through the phone line. “I’ll answer your questions, but first, let’s talk about why you called me.” My words are laced with amusement and a hint of something dangerous.

There is a quiet moment on the other end before she responds, her voice uncertain. “To be honest…” she finally replies, “… I’m not entirely sure.”

As I listen to her raspy breaths, my phone vibrates with an incoming text. I glance at the screen, and my blood boils. It’s from Angel.

Angel:Her house was trashed. Claimed it was an ex-boyfriend to the cops.

A surgeof anger rushes through me, and my jaw clenches as every fibre of my being screams for vengeance. My voice trembles with barely contained rage as I speak into the phone. “Listen, darling. You need to stay where you are. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Her voice shakes in confusion.

“I’m coming for you,” I growl out, my words drippingwith venom. “I’ll take care of everything. No one dares to mess with what’s mine.”

I end the call, my heart thundering like a drumbeat. The thought of someone laying a finger on her and desecrating her home ignites an all-consuming fury within me. No one has the right to touch what belongs to me.

Chapter Eight

Aurora Henry

Istare at my phone, his words echoing in my head. Shocked and scared, it’s hard to process that he’ll be here in just a few hours. What the fuck does ‘a few hours’ even mean to him? My heart races, but I can’t tell if it’s from fear or anticipation.

I glance at the clock. It’s already eleven. Hunger gnaws at my insides, making me realise I haven’t eaten since last night. Fuck it. I need food. Pulling on a jacket, I head out of the hotel room and walk down the block to the nearby café.

The bell above the door jingles as I step inside, and the scent of coffee and pastries hits me like a wave. My stomach growls louder than I’d like to admit, and I quickly scan the menu on the wall. It’s one of those trendy fucking places with chalkboards and shit. Whatever, as long as they have something edible.

“Can I get you something?” The barista’s voice is too cheery for how I’m feeling right now, but I force a smile and order a croissant and black coffee.

As I wait for my order, I can’t help but replay Felix’s call in my mind. Why is he coming? It’s unsettling, but deep down, a twisted part of me craves his presence. God, what’s wrong with me?

“Here you go!” The barista hands me my food and coffee, snapping me out of my thoughts. I mutter a quick thanks before grabbing my things and heading back outside. The sooner I eat and get back to my room, the better.

Just as I’m about to leave the café, there he fucking is. Nick, my ex-boyfriend and personal nightmare, stands in front of me. My heart is pounding against my ribcage, and I can feel my palms getting sweaty.

“Hey, whore,” he sneers. “Thought you could run away?”

“Stay the fuck away from me, Nick.” I fumble for my phone, dial 000, and hold it up to my ear. His eyes narrow, but I don’t give a shit. I need to get out of herenow.

I bolt for the door, not waiting for him to react. But I hear his heavy footsteps behind me as I sprint towards the hotel. Why the fuck did he have to find me?

“Please, I need help,” I gasp into the phone. “My ex is following me, and he’s dangerous.”

“Of course I am, bitch,” Nick snarls, catching up to me just as I reach the hotel entrance. He yanks me back by my hair, and I cry out in pain.

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