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With those words he swings the door open and leaves the room, slamming it behind him and leaving me a panting mess on the floor.
I grumble to myself about miserable fucking arseholes as I gather myself, standing up to make my way across the room hoping the door in front of me leads to a bathroom. I’m rewarded when I open the door to a luxurious room with white marble on the floor and a huge shower that could hold at least four people.
I walk into the bathroom, making my way over to the sink and running the water as I take a look at myself in the mirror. I lift my mask, placing it down by the sink and shaking my head at the state of my face. My mascara runs down my face in watery streaks, my foundation patchy from my tears. I grab a washcloth from the cupboard under the sink, rinsing it under the warm water before rubbing it over my cheeks and under my eyes.
My eyes land on my neck and I see the marks both Clay and Rafe left. The one on the left side from Clay tame in comparison to the savage bite of Rafe’s on the right. I continue down to look at my dress, noticing the wet patches from my saliva and Rafe’s cum. I huff out an irritated breath as I wipe the damp cloth over the spots. I swear, I’m going to stab Rafael,again, if he’s ruined my gorgeous dress.
I place the mask back over my face as I leave the bathroom, looking around the room properly for the first time. I’m in a large office with a huge wooden desk taking centre stage, a giant painting on the wall behind it.
I search the room for the blade he threw when I stabbed him, finding it nowhere near where we were, but instead underneath the large desk. I grab it, shoving it back into the holster just as the door opens, someone coming in and closing it behind them.
“I’m coming now, Rafael,” I say as I jump up from behind the desk. “I couldn’t exactly leave my fucking-”
I cut myself off as realise that it’s not Rafe that has entered the room, but his father.
Fuck!
Damian Monroe stands in the middle of his office, a beast of a man with a snarl on his face, looking meaner than the dog that was tied to a chain in its front garden a few doors down from us when we were kids, always growling and trying to bite people.
“Who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my office?”
“Uh, well it's kind of a funny story, actually,” I say as I make my way round the desk, trying to figure out the best way to take him down now that the plan’s gone to shit.
“I don’t want to hear a funny fucking story. I want to knowexactlywhat you’re doing in here behind my desk, girl.” He takes a step towards me, his fists clenching at his sides.
“Rafael brought me in here,” I say with a giggle as I start walking to go towards the door. “He left me in here so I could clean up, but when I was in the bathroom I noticed I had lost one of my earrings and these are, like, my favourite pair ever, so I just had to find it.” I point to the earring dangling from my ear as I come up beside him. “I mean, they’re gorgeous, right? And they complement my dress so well. I just couldn’t leave the room without it.”
“And where is my son now?” He asks me, eyes narrowed.
“Oh,” I say with another giggle. “He told me to find him in the party when I was done here, so I should probably go.” I lift my shoulder in a small shrug as I flick my thumb towards the door.
“Yes, you should definitely do that. And when you do find my son, please tell him I don’t appreciate finding his whores in my office,” he tells me with a sneer before turning to dismiss me completely.
The giggles start up in my head at his words, my smile dropping into a snarl as soon as his back is turned. I’m not sure if I’m more pissed at his insinuation that I’m a whore, the fact that Rafael has obviously done this before, or the fact that Damian Monroe just could be the biggest cunt I’ve ever met.
My hand goes to the holster on my thigh. I grab the last needle as he walks towards his desk, spinning round and lifting my arm to jab the needle in his neck. At the last moment he spins towards me - faster than a man his size shouldeverbe able to - and grabs my neck, bringing his other hand up to smack into my wrist, sending the needle flying across the room.
“You really have no idea who you’re dealing with. Do you, girl?” He spits at me.
A smirk lifts my lips at his words as my hand goes back to my holster, grabbing the blade. My other hand coming up to wrap around the wrist attached to his hand around my throat
“I know exactly who you are, Damian Monroe,” I say, as I tighten my grip on his wrist. “The issue here, it seems, is thatyoudon’t know whoIam. Let me introduce myself.”
I swing my hand holding the blade forward, plunging it into his side, hopefully hitting something vital. He roars at the impact, bringing his hand up and backhanding me across the face.
My ears ring as my head swings to the side with the blow and then I’m flying across the room as he throws me away from him.
I hear the clatter of my blade drop to the floor and smile as I grab the other from under my dress. I shake my head to clear it as I get to my feet, my smile growing when I see the blood staining his shirt where I stabbed him.
He looks to the blade in my hand before his gaze travels up to my face, his own grin widening.
“It doesn’t really matter who you are. There’s no way you can take me on and win,” he chuckles as his gaze travels down my body. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you, girl.”
He strides towards me, his hand flying out to grab me and I dive underneath it, swinging my knife round to slice the back of his leg as I pass. My eyes search for the needle as I come to my feet, but Damian comes after me again before I can locate it.
He swings his fist when he’s close to me and I drop to the floor, swinging my foot round to sweep him off his feet, watching him stumble as he tries to catch himself before falling flat on his face.
I jump to my feet with a bark of laughter as he growls, getting his own feet underneath him and turning towards me with a sneer.
