Page 21 of Nemesync
In the elevator, I caught the psycho’s cold gaze on me.
“It’s hardly polite to ogle a woman in an elevator, especially when she catches you red-handed, Elijah.”
His finger pressed a button, suddenly halting the elevator before reaching its intended floor.
His voice was raspy and low, cold and threatening just like him. “Do you realize I was warned about you? The beautiful future Emira, but with a whispered caution to watch out for this dangerous associate to her father. The woman that reads the eyes. But, when I look at you, I don’t see it. How dangerous are you? Is it just because the men the Emir meets are weak, or what is it?”
Don’t answer Z. Do not answer.
This little game of provocation he was playing didn’t work, and it was frustrating not knowing why he was so mean.
“Danger doesn’t emanate through a stare, Volkov. If you want to acquaint yourself with that facet of me, keep staring, and you’ll catch on pretty fast.”
He straightened, a smirk forming on his full mouth, stretching the little scar on his upper lip as he moved closer, the mirror reflecting the scene, making it seem as though I wasa sheep and the big bad wolf had finally caught me. “Is that a threat? You remain oblivious to who I am, don’t you, Zanae? I’m a man of many things, but I don’t play games or make threats. However I do murders, so don’t provoke me.”
He was too close, too imposing.
I felt the heat radiating from his body, even without physical contact. I wasn’t scared of him; he could indeed end my life easily, but I didn’t care enough to just shut up, obey him and give him that fear he craves to see in my eyes.
I learned a lesson long ago, one that’s always been engraved in my mind: Never show vulnerability as a woman, particularly in front of a man. Because those bastards tend to take a woman’s logical way of thinking as a weakness, when in fact, it was the contrary.
We analyze before barking loudly.
I turned, meeting his gaze head-on. I’d forgotten how dead his green eyes were—icy, but so magnetic, like a forest. Deep, attractive, despite the concealed dangers. I wanted to dive in and just see by myself how dangerous it was inside his head.
I wanted to dissect this man’s expressions and body language. I needed to figure him out completely to break through his exterior. That’s how I operate as a woman who has faced these types of men before.
But he isn’t like the others.
“Let me be clear, Elijah. I believe we’ve misunderstood each other,” I replied, my voice calm, although adrenaline coursed through my veins like burning lava. “I may not know who you are, but you’re entirely ignorant of who I am or what I’m capable of. Now, unlock this fucking elevator and spare me the insinuations you might have heard about me.”
His jaw tightened, and suddenly, he wrapped his gloved hand around my throat, the leather from his motorcycle gear was harsh and cold.
The scent of tobacco enveloped me, igniting an explosion of heat throughout my whole fucking body.
I felt it pulsating in every fiber of my being.
“Oh Zanae, I’ve changed my mind. Perhaps I’d like to have some fun with you,” he spitted, his grip on my neck tightening, cutting off my breath. “My hand suits you perfectly as a necklace,” he murmured deeply, his fingers slowly moving around my throat as if he were talking to himself, admiring a piece of art he had created.
Fuck him.
I pull out a knife from my pocket, pressing it against his throat. Fine, if he wanted to play this game, then we’d play it together.
“And blood would make a great necklace on you.” I was struggling to breathe but couldn’t let him win. “You’re making a mistake here, Elijah, I don’t play. I’m aware you can’t stand me by the way you’re acting. I didn’t request your presence every time I have to see Nikolai, yet you persistently come to me, always here to remind me that my life is a problem you want to solve. But remember that,” I continued, placing my hand on his chest to push him away, “I don’t care about your opinions, but never lay your hands on me, thinking I’ll shut up. NOW, UNLOCK THE FREAKING ELEVATOR!”
He tightened his grip as I pressed the blade, a bead of blood surfacing on his skin.Red. And just as he understood that I had cut him, he smiled.
Drip,
Drip,
Drip,
The blood dripped to the ground, staining it, his eyes remained darker than ever, no longer green but black. It was as if they were sucking the light out of the room, devastating me.
He wasn’t in pain.
Or maybe he was, but he seemed to love it.
