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Chapter 7

  • Sienna
  • I stared at him. He was dressed down but still looked like a god. No, a devil. I raised a brow and he chuckled deeply. "Don't tell me you forgot that I don't give a fuck. But if I were you, I would have already stabbed their eyes out," he said nonchalantly.
  • I leaned back onto the fridge. Then I yawned as my heavy eyelids begged for sleep.
  • Eric looked across the room at at my broken tiara as I rubbed my eyes. "Don't worry about that, I will get another one," I said as I looked down at the broken jewellery.
  • "Your father has already gone," he informed me.
  • Fuck that man! That fucking bastard. So he left me here. He doesn't even fucking care, anyway, I thought.
  • "Well, I am leaving too," I said, sighing heavily as I rubbed my forehead. Then I started headed for the doorway but was stopped by Eric who immediately stepped in the way.
  • "Stay the night. I insist," he said, staring directly at me.
  • I don't have time for no games, Eric fucking Connall, I thought as I tried to read him but ultimately, I was mentally and physically exhausted.
  • So I nodded, accepting the proposal. I was sure that his lips tugged into a quick smile before he led the way to a spare bedroom. He didn't even make any lewd jokes. It was after midnight and everyone had already left.
  • "Here you go," Eric said as he handed me some clothing. I gladly accepted it as I appreciated the thoughtful gesture because I did not have any clothes with me. And this fucking dress was stuck to my body.
  • When he left me alone, I locked the door and changed into the T-shirt which hung loose on my body. I tightened the drawstrings on the sweats and folded the cuffs of the shirt up slightly.
  • These were his clothes, for fuck's sake. Where the fuck was Cara, anyway? The clothes smelt of him and I now smelt like him. It was a musky woody scent, and it somehow comforted me.
  • ***
  • I tossed and turned on the bed. I couldn't sleep no matter how tired I was. Fuck! This shit always happened. So I decided to go downstairs to grab some water, and I slowly made my way past the living room and into the kitchen.
  • From the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow moving in the darkness. My heart quickened as I subtly opened a drawer and my fingers felt for a knife. Then I held the knife in my hand firmly. It was a fucking butter knife, but it would have to do.
  • I turned and threw the knife at the shadow which quickly moved out of the way. The knife struck the wall, my throw being very hard and accurate. My hands quickly fumbled through the same drawer in attempts to find something else to throw. Fuck! Then the shadow moved and turned on a lamp.
  • "Sienna?" Eric called out, furrowing his thick brows at me.
  • I furrowed my brows back. "What are you doing sitting in the dark like some sort of psychotic lunatic?" I asked in confusion as my heartbeat began to settle.
  • He looked behind him at the knife in the wall and then back at me. "I don't sleep often," he said and I tilted my head as he took a seat on the sofa. "And you?" he asked as he crossed his legs over each other.
  • "I can't sleep either," I said as I walked over to the sofa. I slumped down, feeling my body relax. I brushed my hair back and pulled out the joint I had concealed in my hand.
  • Then I lit it up using my lighter while he watched me with amusement in his eyes. I took a long drag and puffed out a cloud of smoke. Resting my head back on the couch, I looked at him while he was smirking at me.
  • "What?" I asked bluntly.
  • He shrugged as he pulled out a cigarette. He held it out and I lit it for him. I looked at him as he smoked. Some strands of hair fell over his eyes and I couldn't help but be captivated while he smoked.
  • "I apologize about throwing the knife at you. I guess I am just not used to seeing someone sitting on a sofa, doing nothing in the dead of night." I smirked.
  • He chuckled as looked at me. His stare wasn't revolting like that of other men. "I am not sure if that was a sincere apology, but if it helps, I was also about to shoot you," he said as he tapped a gun which lay beside him before he added, "And I never miss."
  • I snuggled into the couch and rested my heavy eyes on one side of it. "I beg to differ. I am sure you have missed once or more. You hesitated before shooting then. Why?" I asked as I continued smoking.
  • "I knew it was you," he stated in a cocky manner.
  • I opened my eyes and looked his way. "You knew it was me? That's fucking impossible!" I laughed.
  • "I did," he replied, smiling warmly.
  • I looked back into his eyes. "How?" I asked in curiosity.
  • He licked his lips as he thought of a lie. "No one in my house walks around at night, so the logical answer had to be you. And since you have a certain disregard for authority, hence the reason you never announced yourself," he said effortlessly.
  • So he has been studying me, watching me, I mused as I thought about his answer. Fuck, he is good.
  • "Have I made you speechless?" he teased, and I shook my head in attempts to hide the smile that wouldn't leave my face. But I was actually speechless.
  • "So what is your favourite color?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
  • "Are you really asking me that?" I asked, grinning.
  • "Why not? Since we are married, I want to know more about you because you intrigue me," he responded.
  • The fuck. I was not a plaything that he could just be intrigued with.
  • "How so?" I asked, playing his little game because it did amuse me.
  • "You just do." He chuckled deeply.
  • I furrowed my brows at his cryptic answer. I took another drag of my joint. "Red. That's my favourite color." Red like the fucking blood of everyone who ever pissed me off.
  • He smiled and held his cigarette to his lips. Then he blew out a soft cloud, holding it between his fingers. "What's your favourite weapon?" he asked.
  • I shook my head. "If we are doing this, you have to play too. So what's your favourite color?" I asked, holding back a smile by inhaling more of my joint.
  • He tilted his head back, resting it on the sofa like I was currently doing. "It's black," he answered.
  • I chuckled. "That's very obvious."
  • "Then why did you ask?" he teased once more.
  • "You could like pink for all I know." I smirked which earned me a husky chuckle.
  • Eric and I talked like this for a while and I was becoming more and more fascinated with him. The more we talked, the more we bonded. It was unusual for me to feel this comfortable around someone I hardly knew. And yet as time passed on, I knew more about Eric and the sparks of attraction I felt for him were even stronger. Fuck, fuck, I couldn't. I really couldn't.
  • A while later, I began to feel sleepy and I began to drift off. I felt fingers take the joint out of my loose grip and the light was turned off. Then I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost immediately.