Billionaire's Bed by luisavilaok (best color ereader TXT) 📖

“I DO NOT…! No… I don't love you, Leonardo! LET GO!”

The words are suspended between us, firstly because I have never perceived such a level of aggressiveness from anyone before, and secondly, because I have also been aggressive with my words.

I am not sure that I have loved him before, nor do I think I am paying attention to what my feelings say if he does nothing more than drowning me with his expectations and his feelings in an attempt to force what I also feel for him.

I look at him and I think I can hear the sound of his heart breaking into pieces which is accompanied by a hurt look, lost and which I have vilely hurt without the exact intention.

His oceanic eyes are filled with a crystalline layer that doesn't fall in tears but retains moisture, leaving his lashes wet as they stare at me like I'm some kind of monster.

"Leonardo, I…" I try to apologize for the words I used, I didn't mean to hurt him in such a way, surely not.

“I think…it would be best if you decide…to leave tonight,” he says with a small voice.

For the first time, that security and that strength in his tone seem broken. I didn't want to arouse expectations in him, it's just that I don't feel ready to face what he's proposing and now it's too late to explain.

"You can go now," he tells me without further ado, pointing to the door.

I nod, knowing that it's the only thing left in my options so I finish putting on my clothes, grab my bag and leave the place considering the idea of ​​asking for a taxi.

But no.

I do not do it.

I need to think.

The night has flooded me with thoughts and ideas that I do not feel capable of supporting in this instance. Everything seems to have been lost already. I don't know what consequences it will bring at work, but I should have stopped it from the first moment. If everything is over with him, it will surely affect my work performance and if there is something that I have never wanted, it is that going to work in the morning becomes a nightmare.

I walk down the street, trying to remember the way back to the workshop, the night maintains a cool climate, but I try to get around hugging my elbows. I look back from time to time, but he hasn't come for me and I don't think he's going to either. "Forget about him," says my conscience.

I sigh and continue on my way, knowing that the options are running out for me, but my head is still in a parallel state as I enter a neighborhood between alleys to cut paths, however, I did not remember that this place was so dark at night. I swallow thickly and let my feet and my thoughts go their way, wallowing in the notion that keeping my head occupied with my feelings has made me lose my sanity.

Until I see a man standing in the dark smoking a cigarette outside one of the houses.

There is no one else in the house.

Just the two of us.

I swallow hard and I think he realizes I've been scared as he holds my gaze through the darkness and I continue on my way, heels clicking on the carpet. Good God, this is a disaster, I never should have come here, please help me, Lord!

Since I haven't done it in a long time, I begin to pray.

Until I perceive something else.

A few meters further, after having resigned to myself that nothing will happen to me and he will let me escape, I see a boulevard on the corner lit everywhere. I know it's a great option to get to the light and get out of this place, but it's too far for me when the noise of an engine comes from behind.

It's a motorcycle.

The guy I saw before between alleys approaches a motorcycle next to me.

I try to get closer to the sidewalk away from the street, however, he manages to get closer to me, even though I start running as fast as my damn heels will allow me. I try to scream, but he throws his mobility in front of me and holds a knife in front of my eyes. I think I have pepper spray somewhere in the bag, so I start looking without finding the vial. Demons!

"Not one more step, preciousness," he tells me with a tone that disgusts me.

"No, please, no, help!" I yell.

However, he manages to cover my mouth and point his blade at me. He points right at me and rips my wallet out of my hand.

"Don't you dare, bitch! Shut up!”

I look at him, imploring him not to hurt me.

"But look what you are wearing," he mutters and puts his hand on my breasts under the strap of my dress.

"No!" I yell at him.

"Shut the fuck up!" he insists.

Thus discovering his true intention.

He rips my dress, leaving me with another concern: not to be left naked in the street while being assaulted.

“Ahh!”

He returns to his motorcycle with my wallet in his hands.

"Give me my documents at least!" I implore him.