Note: Originally I was not going to upload Dakota's pov coz those chapters belong to a different book. As Dakota is a very complicated character, and one can't fully understand him from just a chapter or two. Given the complexity of his personalities, he deserves an entire book dedicated to his pov. 

However, since many of the readers wanted a sneak peek inside his mind, I uploaded a few chapters here. So for now, let's pretend we know nothing about his mental illness as Emara figuring him out and Dakota explaining in his own words would make a better unfolding of events. 

Now let's get into Mr. Black's bedroom!

Point of View: Emara Stone

*Buzz*

I feel vibrations running through my arm, causing me to wake up from my deep sleep. My eyelids feel heavy as I raise my hand and glance at the source of disturbance.

I blink an eye at the harsh white glow of my watch as it shows: 10:05 AM

Fuck!

Groggily, I rise up and suddenly I feel like I am thrown from a Five-Star room to barely a One-Star room. And then it hit me- This isn't my room, but Dakota's.

Suddenly, flashes of the previous night flood back in- Red room of chaos, the panic state, his dreadful nightmare and my adrenaline-fueled attempts to calm him down.

Instantly, the dreaminess in my eyes evaporates and I search for him, only to be met with the emptiness of plain four walls.

Where is he, and why didn't he wake me up?

Fascinatingly, I look around the mysterious bedroom of a mysterious man.

There are no photographs or paintings on the walls, and definitely no Andrew Tate portraits like I had predicted. No furniture, no luscious carpet to walk on, nor a human size mirror to get ready, just a mattress left on the floor.

It doesn't even look like a room, but a confined prison.

Which is oddly strange..

Because my room is designed with grandeur and I assumed his room would be like a lavish stay in Burj Khalifa, but in reality it is just an empty shell.

Why is he living like this, when he can afford all the luxuries in the world?

A sharp chill runs through my spine as I keep my foot on the marble floor, feeling its icy coldness. The room is oddly chilling, almost freezing like a December night, and I quickly wrap the blanket around my body for some April warmth.

Heading towards his bathroom, I mentally prepare for the mess but surprisingly, I am met with stark cleanliness. There is no speck of dust on his bathroom floor, nor any evidence of scattered pills.

It's as if I was all dreaming about his nightmare and the chaotic scenes from last night, but looking at the broken tile on the wall, I know it was all real.

My fingers trace the thickness of the marble and I can't even imagine how much force it might have been used to break it.

But then again, where are those pills?

I try to open his medicine cabinet, but it is sealed tightly as if locked firmly from inside. I let out a sigh knowing what he did and head to his closet in search of something to wear, only to find that it is locked as well.

Of course! He won't let his whore wear any clothes and make me walk in his home like he always wanted.. Naked.

'This is how I want you to walk in my house, stripped off your attitude and clothes.' His biting words pierce through me, reviving all those haunted memories which I have lived through.

Tears soak my cheek, but I wipe them off and push back the looming shadows of the past. Just two more days. Just two..

Raising my teary eyes, I spot a door at the corner of his bathroom, one that doesn't exist in mine. Instinctively, my feet move on their own, drawn to uncover whatever is hidden by the mystery door of the mysterious man.

As I open the door, my mouth drops in awe at the breathtaking view of a vast balcony that stretches with a panoramic view of endless blue ocean.

The gentle sea breeze caresses my face, while the rhythmic lull of waves instantly captivates my heart, making me fall in the love with the view.

It's beyond beautiful!

I notice flowerpots of marigolds and daisies lined at the corner of the balcony and a chair under the umbrella, as if it is meant to sit and enjoy the mesmerizing scene for hours.

I never thought a place like sunshine could exist in this cold castle. It is such a stark contrast to his plain walls, and it puzzles me even more.

Clutching the blanket around me, I walk towards the chair to enjoy the scene for a while, when I spot a mysterious black diary lying there.

My curiosity opens the diary, only to find that it is a drawing book. Each page is filled with intricate designs of cars, tyres, steering wheel, 3D architecture of kitchen, standing bar, bedroom, all drawn with specific details.

A pencil suddenly slips from the pages and I manage to catch it just in time. It's an elegant black charcoal pencil, custom made with 'Black' carved in golden letters onto its surface.

Intrigued by the pencil, I flip to the page it slipped from.

A silent gasp leaves my lips as I meet with a series of abstract sketches of human anatomy. Eyes, lips, neck, delicate hands, female breasts, curvy waist and thighs. My mouth widens as the sketches get more intimate with every turn of page, getting darker and more detailed.

He drew all of this?

I sit there stunned to my bones, not believing he could even draw, that too so beautifully. And suddenly, the sea doesn't interest me as much as these artworks.

It feels like I am prying on a private sketchbook of a French artist.

The lines are so soft and fluid, making the sketches appear almost real as if copy pasted from his memory. Each sketch not only show cases his drawing skill, but also depicts his intense passion for art.

I thought he had some unhealthy obsession with paintings, but I was wrong.

Dakota does not just like art, he feels art.

I close his diary, feeling a chaos of emotions in me. These sketches weren't meant for my eyes, yet I had seen them. A part of his soul that I never knew existed.

Clutching the blanket around me, I give one last look at the peaceful ocean and get back inside. Suddenly, the stark white walls of his empty bedroom hits me like a cold wave.

The lack of any personal touch screams louder about the defect in his personality that something is seriously wrong.

I can't believe I thought he was having sex with someone here, but looking at the condition of his room, I don't think he has ever let someone in.

No doubt why he never took me to his room at night!

As I decide to leave, I couldn't help but notice strange marks on the door, as if someone desperately tried to claw their way out. Like a wild animal, who has been deliberately confiscated here.

My fingers trace the scratches and the deep dents on the wood, possibly caused by throwing a heavy object in rage or a fist.

Jesus Christ! This is too much to take in.

His nightmare, the broken tile, all those psychotic medicines, and now these marks on his door, they all paint a disturbing picture in my mind that scare me to core.

The way his personality changes, his mood and voice.. I knew he was not normal.

Oh god! Why do I always come across psychos?

First Ryan, now him! I leave his room, feeling like a maniac magnet. It's like I have this super-ability to attract every psycho within a hundred-mile radius.

As I step into my room, I realize what luxury truly means. It's like entering an entirely different world.

Royal painted walls with lavish decor, a queen size bed with bedside marble tables, a lush carpet underfoot, a wall-mounted TV, full-length mirror, and a cosy sofa set in the corner with a pink bag right on the table, which definitely wasn't there last night.

"What is it?" What is it? My anxiety ask as well.

I clutch the blanket around my thudding chest as I approach the mysterious pink bag. It feels like deja vu, when he handed me a similar bag filled with slutty lingeries.

Under the spell of curiosity, I grab the bag and find a box taped with a note that says..

'I know you want to, but don't come down naked ;)'

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm and proceed to uncover what that perverted demon has sent me this time. I open the lid, and there is a.. a..

A gasp leaves my lips as I lay my eyes on the most beautiful shade of peach, which glimmers into hues of blue with the slightest movement. Under compulsion, my fingers brush against the fabric as I hold it in my trembling hands.

Tears well up in my eyes as I feel how soft its cloth is, almost fragile like the emotions I have held within me for so long.

He.. he.. got me a.. a dress!

A sob crawls up my throat, choking me with my tears as I stare at the most beautiful dress of my life. And suddenly, the picture before me starts to get blur.

My knees sink to the floor, as if the dam of my emotions have been shattered and I cry hard hugging the dress. It is not just a piece of cloth, but my dignity, my self-respect, that was brutally snatched away from me.

Now I know how Dobby must have felt when Harry Potter gave him that sock.

That evil-miser king has given me a dress!

"Thishh ishh soo pretty." Uncontrollable tears flow down freely, and submerge in the softness of the cloth as I hold the dress close to my heart like the most precious thing I have ever gotten.

I kiss the fabric, and carefully place the dress back inside the box, then rush to the bathroom with a smile on my face.

I can finally roam in the house with clothes and my lost grace.

Today, I skip my usual conversation with the bottles and shower quickly. Once I am done, I wrap the towel around my body, and step out of the shower with a sense of excitement pricking my toes.

I have never been this thrilled to try on a dress before, especially when it's the only piece of clothing I'll get to wear after five long naked days.

Picking up the dress, I realize there is no bra included, just a simple white cotton panty in the box. As I slip it on, I instantly feel the support of inbuilt pads and the fabric, it feels like touching silk on my skin.

The top of the dress clings on to my body like second skin, while the lower part flows gracefully as if tailored to sway with every step.

As I catch my reflection in the full-length mirror, my heart swells with happiness. I don't remember when was the last time I felt so beautiful in a dress.

It's like I am draped in mermaid scales, which radiates different shades from every angle. I give a little twirl, and watch the dress dance around me.

It is so pretty!

But suddenly, my gaze meets with swollen puffy eyes in the mirror, a proof of all the brutality I went through.

Stripped, degraded, fucked, abused, repeatedly for days.

I shake my head, not letting all those dark memories drag me back into the abyss I crawled out from.

I will not let blackness get me again!

Taking a deep breath, I force a smile on my face and walk up to the closet to see what I can put on my face to make it more happy.

Opening the drawer, I discover an exhibition of branded cosmetic products from Dior, Fenty Beauty, Sephora, Chanel and some brands I can't even pronounce.

Hmm.. Not so miser after all.

With a steady hand I draw a black line on my swollen eyelids, followed by a thick coat of mascara. After applying a nude lipstick, I complete the look with a dab of creamy rose tint on my nose and cheeks.

A smile naturally curve my lips as I stare at my radiant reflection. I don't look like the same depressive girl who had cried herself to sleep for countless nights.

The girl in the mirror is a new me- Bold, beautiful and confident enough to conquer the world.

As I gaze at my happy reflection, I feel light from inside as if the weight of sadness has been lifted from my chest and I can finally breathe freely.

I give my hair a quick tousle and walk down the stairs to face the unpredictable king of moods. I wonder what made him change his mind to not wake me up, or demand to cook for him. Instead, I am surprised by his surprise gift.

What is going on in his psychotic head?

As I reach the main hall, my feet slow down when I hear Dakota's voice. But then I hear another voice. I feel a sudden thud in my chest as I hear him having a conversation with a... girl.

The pull of curioisty makes my step eager and I stride into the living room where I find him sitting on the couch, casually talking to someone I know very well.

What on the earth is she doing here?

( ͡♥ ₃ ͡♥)

Honestly, many of you might still hate Dakota.. But for me, he is a very special character coz I believe Dakota is me. 

I don't even know how many personalities I have in me. The kind of mood swings I experience, it makes me feel like I am literally on the edge of becoming a complete psychotic. Maybe now you know why I call myself AlmostPsycho 🙃

Anyway, I uploaded!! YAY! Who do you think is Her?

Hit👇⭐️