SEX WITH MY BEST FRIEND'S FIANCÉ-Chapter 165

- ASAMI -

An ally might overstep boundaries but passing your judgment by ordering her death is uncalled for. Those men weren’t sent to kill me, but according to They, if I ended up dead in the process, he won’t hold it against any of them so they were left to roam freely doing whatever they wanted.

They might’ve known I’ll be able to handle myself or just wanted me to incur another fatal body damage, whichever it is, it is uncalled for. Working for that scoundrel has been nothing but a drag at most. S has so much leverage on me that can leave me unsuitable for entry and a good life in any country while I have nothing on They. I hate that I’m that open to S’ whims but there’s not much to do about it when no one has ever seen nor heard what They sounds like. No one has even gotten close to uncovering S’ identity because They always ensures to get rid of them before the person can. Nothing, as little as a fingerprint, of S is out to the public. No matter how much I think about it, it doesn’t make any sense but there’s not much for me to act on when my life can easily be taken if They declares it.

They always knows everything yet no one ever knows anything about They. Not even They’s closest allies. I might crave my freedom from being under They so badly but I won’t do anything that’ll leave me under They’s prying watch. Not when they all my life since I was a child, I was bound to a man as a slave with the illusion that I was a skilled personnel. Not when I love being an alive asshole than a dead saint. I swallow, throwing my sniper on the ground of my home rooftop, falling backwards, flat on its concrete surface. I’m exhausted. My body feels paralysed but it’s not and my fingers are sore from the weight of having to shoot so much.

Snipers are usually found far away, trying to get a good view of their target. I had to alternate between two roofs because I was caught when trying to take down a target. Carrying this thing definitely slowed me down.

Warning passed across S. I won’t be acting out in my own accordance anytime soon anymore, so spare me a sane catching of breath.

I am panting, staring at the night sky. It’s cloudy. Too cloudy to have a pleasant gaze at the stars. I need water. And construction needs to be done here tomorrow. I just hate having to make repairs on my own property especially when I’m not the main cause of its destruction. S should have the fees covered but hey, I’m rich so it won’t be a huge deal for me. Plus, the last thing I want is a round two.

I force my upper body up the ground, leaning both my arms folded on my spread open knees. Every inch of my body feels like it’s on fire. The pain is aggravating yet I’m trying to get my act together.

In a world where only you have got your back, never show weakness. That’s a quote I learnt from the asshole of a mother I had. Man, I’m so glad I got both my parents killed. I take a deep breath and stare at my environment, soaking the beautiful view.

From here, I catch a good sight of Killian’s vehicle.

Oh shit. Yeah, he wanted us to meet after this thing. I puff air out my mouth unsatisfactorily. Here goes nothing.

I force my body up the ground, heading to the small exit and entry door at the center of the roof. I’m leaving the gun here. I’ll be sure to take it away before day break but first, I need a decent rest.

I walk down all the way to the front door. Seeing all the dead bodies laying around as I wade through my house and the pool of blood lets me know that I need to call special cleaning services to tidy up. A thought drops in my mind causing me to laugh.

Imagine hiring regular cleaners and they get frightened of the blood and attempt to call the cops then I kill them to keep them silent, adding more count to the bodies while fabricating a good story that’ll end the case easily? Now that would be funny as hell. Don’t blame me, life has fucked me up so that I got blessed with a twisted humour.

I step out of my house. It’s really dark outside and the only source of light illuminating my compound is the moonlight. It gives me a decent view of the liquid colour deviation of the garden outside. Even my grass is laced with blood. As long as it’s not my blood, I’m good with it.

I stand in front of his car. I don’t know why but being this close to him, alone, when there’s nothing obstructing my thoughts seems scary. . .

I got so caught up with what was happening around me that I didn’t think this through.

Did Hazel say something to him? Is that why he’s here?

I feel bile form in my throat. That bitch wouldn’t speak even if she was given the pass to. . . . Right? And even if she did. . . He’s not here to end me, is he?

After Killian strangled me without a second thought and didn’t even consider to check in on my wellbeing, the written interpretation was obvious, blaring at my face. He doesn’t give a shit about me. His behaviour shows it too and I’m not safe with him anymore. I never was but I hoped for it. I swallow, trying to summon courage. To be detested and choked to the point of death by someone you love is the worst thing to happen to any being. I didn’t have many choices all my life and I’ve always needed to play by a rule book, I’ve always needed to be me, but that doesn’t make me not a woman. I’m still just a woman who missed all the joy of being a girl. Even twisted young me deserves love. . . Don’t I?

Yet it feels like I’m searching for it at the wrong place. No man would want to be with me. . . all of me. Not just bits shown to the public because one thing I’m not is normal.

“You wanted to talk? Talk.” I say outside the confinement of his car. I don’t want to get in. Killian has always kept his composure even when pissed so that adds up to my thousand reasons why I’m safer away from his arm’s length.

He looks at me, eyes giving me an unsaid command. One look at my roughened body tells I’m completely spent. I don’t have the strength nor willpower to stand up against him or be bold. I hold the door handle and open it, getting into his car. I shut the door.

“You look uneasy,” Killian’s words makes my heart skip a beat. “Good. You have every reason to.”

The car doors lock immediately. I glue my legs together, feeling uneasy.

Killian leans closer to me. I don’t know why but my body stiffens. I can feel his breath on my face but it feels eerie. “Let this be the last time you even think of coming as near to Hazel.” He says. His voice is low yet holds a murderous intent. Every single organ in my body gives me a warning and goosebumps erupts all over my skin. Killian’s form suddenly becomes predatory over mine.

My lips spread apart, shivering at the metallic thing piercing into my skin. Into a healing wound. I don’t need to look at it to know that it’s a gun. My brows furrow as I wince. He’s not easing up the weight on my side.

“I need you to know that the only thing stopping me from putting a bullet through your ribs to your lungs is the contract I signed with S.” He declares. My breath comes out as short, sharp gasps as I struggle to breathe.

I feel my wound tearing up. A muffled groan leaves my lips. I don’t think he knows how much pain he’s causing. Actually, I think he does but he doesn’t care.

A hand runs down my back, making me to shudder. “Understood?”

I nod vehemently. “Clearly.” Quivers out my lips.

He finally takes the gun off my side. “See how much easier it is when you behave?” I can still feel the pain even though it’s not there. Killian backs away from me. I’m bleeding. I don’t want him to know that I’m bleeding when he’s being this way. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

“Is that all?” I ask.

“Those wounds on Hazel, did you inflict them?”

My eyes widens. Fear. I can’t utter a word.

He raises a brow. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Killian picks up a knife I didn’t know was here. A whimper leaves my lips at the sight. He’s not going to. . . .

Is he?

“An eye for an eye?” Killian asks. There’s something dangerous about his calm tone and demeanor that scares the shit out of me.

“Please.” I whisper. “Don’t hurt me.” I beg. I’ve been through shit for the past weeks, not that he knows. I’ve been having checkups and surgeries. Owen has taken it upon himself to be my personal doctor and surgeon. The only thing keeping me standing and going are the numerous medications I’ve been on. Just because I try not to let it show doesn’t mean nothing bad is happening to me.

“So you know how to plead?” Sarcasm oozes off his tone. “Have you learnt to offer mercy though?” Seeing him take the knife out of its leather strap scares me.

“Pleasee. She’ll never smell my presence again. I’ll be away from her, just don’t hurt me, Killian please.” My words are getting jumbled as I speak.

“Give me one reason why. Just one. I don’t need your assurance Asami because I’ve known you long enough to know you never keep your word. But just tell me one thing as to why I shouldn’t do to you as you’ve done to her.”

One reason? Maybe my body deteriorating would be good enough but he doesn’t care. I take in a sharp inhale. My eyes are teary. I hate being this weak and vulnerable. I hate that the one person who makes me weak and vulnerable enjoys my suffering. But it’s my fault, I don’t mind my business then I flee from the consequences of my actions. I’m laughable. I’m the exact definition of a ridicule and a laughing stock.

“I-“ I begin. The ache on my side is starting to be worse. My whole body is starting to bear the weight of the eventful night. “I am not well.” I say.

Killian laughs.

My heart sinks. I manage to get my shaky hands to lift up my shirt. My body is covered with wounds. Stitches. Scars. All which will eventually heal and will go naturally after treatment, but that will take a long while.

It’s why I’ve stopped putting on tight fits. My body can’t take it. It’s also why I sat down throughout the time I met him in his restaurant that day with Hazel. I’m weak, through and through.

“I don’t expect you to care or sympathise with me. I’m no saint.” I murmur. “But another wound could render me paralysed.” A grunt leaves my lips. I let go of my shirt. The side of my shirt is stained with blood. Killian hasn’t said a word to me since. I can’t denote his emotions from his facial expression because it’s bland. “I’ll stay away, please just let me off this time-“

“You’re bleeding.” Killian says. I don’t know if I’m mistaken but he sounds. . . gentle. Or should I say gentler? Yes, gentler is the word.

I move my arm to cover the sore. “It’s fine.” I murmur.

Killian reaches forward, causing me to shift back on reflex. I shut my eyes when a hand points at me, terrified, but what I felt next made me stunned. A cloth dabs my face. I open my eyes to find him wiping underneath my nose. I didn’t even realise that I was bleeding from my nose.

I shift my head away. I’m not comfortable being this close to him. “Th. . . ank. . .s.”

I think he caught the hint as he settles back on his seat. The soft click alerts me of the doors unlocking.

“How did this happen?” He asks. Killian’s voice is bland. I know he doesn’t give a shit about me but I’m too frightened to not talk.

“That day at your home. You threw me against broken ceramics pieces. Falling down the stairs didn’t aid my cause.” A chuckle leaves my lips. It immediately turns into a sour cough. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to bore you. Please, let me leave.”

Killian’s eyes are all over me. “Sure.” He breaths. “Go.” He looks away.

I should be glad that he’s letting me off but part of me died the moment he turned his head away. What did I expect? That he’d show me love? Or he’d actually be compassionate with me when I opened up? I sniff, trying to force my tears back in. “Thank you.”

“Asami get out!” He barks. That made me flinch. I immediately open the door and hurry out of his car. He drives off. I found myself staring at his retreating car. Part of me actually hoped he’d revise and come back but even I know it’s a far fetched dream.

My hand finally makes its way to the side of my blood stained shirt. I press my palm on the sore. Shit.

I have to call Owen. I really, really need him right now.