*Beep*

*Beep*

My eyes open to the irritating sound coming from the alarm clock on my side table.

"Fuck you." I growl, sitting up and realize this small watch is not my clock. In fact, it is not even my watch.

Slowly, the slap of reality snaps on my face and I look down at my naked, sore body. It wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare coming alive.

My fist clutch on to the bedsheet on which he bend me and took me brutally. I thought I hated Ryan because of his evil ways, but turns out he was a saint in front of this vicious beast and his barbaric ways.

Dakota was like a wild animal on bed, driven by the demons of revenge and lust. Whose only motive was to ruin my body and destroy my self-esteem by treating me like a whore.

His whore.

I hate that degrading word.

I hate it more than I hated his best friend, his stupid lingeries or even himself. Hatred flows in me denser than blood and I discard the duvet and my self pity as I stand up.

I hiss at the soreness of my stiff hips and the stingy ache in between my legs. I was never this sore, even when I lost my virginity.

I force my lashes to look up and stare at my assaulted body in the mirror. Blue marks decorate my hips like little flowers, along with red scratch marks by manhandling my skin.

A lone tear falls from my swollen eyes as memory from last night comes alive. His hands clutching on to my hips as he jerked my body back and forth on his erection, all while he forced me to witness the sex scene.

Gosh! I hate him.

I fucking hate him.

I immediately wash the tear away and take a shower in his luxurious bathroom before wearing my cloth- Where the hell are my clothes?

I look all over the bedroom floor for my shirt and pants, which I clearly remember him ripping out of my skin, right here on this spot.

Panic dances in me like disco as I shuffle through the wardrobe, going through every shelf, cabinet, drawer, but other than slutty lingeries and stalkings, my clothes are nowhere to be seen.

That fucking bastard!

I can't believe he took away my crown and now, my princess dress.

I strap the bathrobe around my waist and stomp down his stairs, looking for my clothes. Laundry room, backyard, guest washroom, under the couch, in kitchen cabinets.

Nada.

My naked feet touch the wet ground of his driveway as I continue the search operation. I remember dropping my shoes here, while I was running away from the brute and as predicted, they are missing as well.

I stop at the iron gate of his castle.

The beautiful vines on the wall are nowhere to be seen and it seems impossible to cross that humongous iron barrier which mocks at me as I stare it helplessly from inside.

I wish I could go back in time and smack my head to not climb in.

Stupid! Stupid girl!

I have never felt so poor in my whole life. I have no clothes, no underwear, no shoes and no money to run away from his unescapable mansion of terror and his ruling king.

Other than surviving another day in his hell, I don't see any other option.

Day Two Plan: Follow his stupid orders.

I walk towards the two chained Dobermans and instantly, I hear warning barks in the air. "Here, my babies." I smile, putting extra food in their bowl.

Though they are growling, they still seem friendlier than their owner.

I enter the kitchen to serve breakfast for another dog, and the first thing I notice is the crescent burn mark on the white countertop, which was flawless yesterday.

Well, at least now I know where to keep the pan!

I read the recipe and assemble his double protein avocado boiled egg sandwich. Curiously, I put a slice of avocado in my mouth and almost gag at its blank taste.

"Eww." I yech, putting the piece back in his sandwich. Even my spit would taste sweeter than this piece of dragon's egg.

I read avocado's benefit online when right at 8:01, the devil walks in.

Wet hairs combed back with a stoic face as stunning as a glass of champagne.

"Morning." Dakota whispers in his deep voice as he casually walks past me to the fridge as if nothing happened between us last night. His face appears like he just walked out of heaven, full of bliss and completely opposite to his last name, Black.

Whereas I couldn't function properly with sexual memories of him last night. I don't know how to breathe, blink, and I forgot how to shit.

Dakota keeps the bag of frozen peas against his knuckles as he sits a foot away with his gaze fixed on me. I keep my eyes glued to the iPad regardless of the loud thumping in my chest.

Don't you dare die with a heart attack bish! I tell myself.

"Read out loud."

I look up. Unknown tingles pass through me as I make eye contact with his crystal green eyes, which were watching my naked body being fucked by him last night. 

"What?" I whisper sheepishly.

He takes a bite from the sandwich I made and says after a few clean munches, "Whatever you are reading, read out loud."

I look at the blank screen of the tablet, then back at the curious wolf.

*Ahem*

"A man sent to 20 years in jail for torturing a little girl for a week in his basemen-"

"Show me the news." Dakota narrows his eyes at me as his expression turns unfriendly.

"Oops! Where did that page disappear?" I sigh, sliding my finger swiftly on the screen.

"Give me the tablet." He demands, forwarding his palm at me.

"Oops! The history got deleted too." I blink innocently as I lock the iPad and place it at the corner of the countertop.

"I had told you before, and I'll tell you again, Emara."

Dakota keeps his half-eaten sandwich down and raises his 'listen-here-bitch' gaze at me.

"I am not keeping you in chains. You are not here against your will. You can walk out of this house anytime you want."

I clench my fist in bubbling anger as he indirectly spits on my face, saying I am living in his stupid showcase house and fucking with him coz I want to.

Day Two Updated Plan: Fuck everything and run.

"Fine. Give me my clothes and shoes back. I'll walk out." I straighten my steel spine and glare at him hotly.

"What clothes?" He arches a brow at me.

"My clothes that you took away last night. Give me back and I'll leave. Right now!" I snarl, tightening the bathrobe around me.

"I do not have a clue of what you are demanding from me." He says calmly like a shopkeeper.

This motherfucking chipmunk!

"You are such a fucking hypocrite. First you hide my clothes, and provide me with no alternative, then have the audacity to tell me you can walk out anytime you want." I mimic his deep voice, which made him narrow his eyes in warning.

Dakota takes a deep breath of conspiracy and his features twist into an expression I can't read. Is it fascination or incense?

"Firstly.." He raises his index finger at me. "I gave you an alternative. It is still in your cupboard. And secondly, I said you can walk out of my house.. if you can. But if you can't because of your wardrobe issue, then it's not my problem."

This bastard of bastards!

I clutch on to my nerves, which scream at me to go bite him. Instead, I lean on to the counter and point my finger at him far till I can.

"You are such a double face person. You say something and then you do something completely different from what you mean. You are like a colour changing lizard."

Dakota pokes his tongue in the insides of his cheek as he stares at me like a common error in his code. "You mean bipolar?"

Bi-polar? A bisexual with a stick up their butt?

"Yes. You are a manipulative, bipolar lizard." I hiss each word laced with the venom of hatred, hoping to sting his huge dick size ego.

Dakota scoffs.

His green broccoli eyes roll back as he murmurs lazily. "Tell me something new."

Unsweetened anger boils in me as he behaves nonchalant by my insults. But I want to hurt him. I want him to burn, just like my pussy is burning from last night.

"Well.. I spit in your sandwich, if that's new to you."

Dakota freezes.

His teeth pause before sinking in for another bite as he looks up at me dreadfully from his almost finished breakfast.

"What did you say?" I watch his expressions fall into a deeper, darker pit as he sees a million-dollar smile on my face.

Haha! Eat this, motherfucker!

"Eve, turn on the blaze." I completely ignore the man across me while I crack two eggs in the bowl and stir them fast like I am running out of time in a MasterChef competition.

"Emara!" His eyes flash darkly as he gives me a warning call.

"I am kidding." I tell him, sweetly.

"Or maybe I am not." I flip while beating my eggs angrily. "And now you will never know." I pour the mixture into the pan while smirking friskily as I give him a taste of his own black and white medicine.

I hear a jaw clench.

Dakota's face hardens like an executive who is going to fire an entire team as he stands up in a heartbeat.

My heart sinks to my clenching bladder as he walks around the counter, almost predatory coz he won't take his eyes off me the entire time he reaches me.

My pulses thrums violently against my skin as he comes stand behind me. Quietly.

Fresh scent of him surrounds me, like the first hit of rain to the ground. So natural, yet so enigmatic, completely opposite to his flesh-eating demeanor.

This man is like a walking paradox.

My skin pricks in fear as I feel his fingers slowly crawling to the base of my neck and wrap around my nape warmly. Heat radiates from his touch, and I find my body purring in nostalgia.

Raw, sexual, and intensely wild.

Dakota twists my neck to look into his brooding eyes, which kind of reminds me of avocados. Green from around and brown from inside.

"Baby, did you spit in my sandwich?" He asks me calmly against his hot throbbing hold.

My chest rises and falls and I blink at him innocently. "Did I, boo?" As I play along.

Avocado eyes narrow at me. "I'll check the footage, Emara. If you really spit in my food, then you know what is coming in your mouth."

My eyes widen as he promises me in his deep threatening voice. His face doesn't budge, nor does his hard stare that could even cut through a diamond.

He is dead serious.

My heart hammers against my ribs as he lowers his face and whispers in a seductive voice. "Your eggs are burning."

What?

My head twists to the right, and I gasp watching fumes emerging from the bottom of my omelette. Mother of ducks!

I squeal like a sea-lion when I feel someone dragging me away from the site.

"Step aside." Dakota swiftly discard my burnt breakfast and butter the pan on low heat. He cracks two eggs directly into the buttery pan and seasons them with salt, pepper, chili flakes and oregano-garlic powder.

His knuckles appear swollen red as I watch him flip the omelette and it smoothly falls back into the pan.

He butter two bread and place them on the uncooked side, puts a cheese slice, wraps it in a sandwich and slides it on to my dish. He draws some lines with ketchup then passes me the plate saying,

"Your unspitten egg-sandwich."

My heart warms at his strange behaviour and I blink at him in surprise.

Did he make me a sandwich? With a cute smiling cat on it.

( ͡♥ ₃ ͡♥)

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*Twerks shyly* 🐒 🤭