My Tool For Revenge (I bought her)

8



Author’s POV

GREG aired for another room grabbing the spare keys, his anger has hitched up to the highest level, his inner demon demanding for blood.

He got to the guest room, clinching his fist and gritting his teeth, trying to suppress his anger.

“Why isn’t she scared of me, and why the hell is she heart hardened?”, he muttered to himself.

“All my men and so many people I have stumbled across always quiver and shudder at my presence, why is she not? Despite showing her that worst side of me huh”, he wondered aloud, punching the glass wall, shattering it into some pieces and neglecting his bleeding fist.

He aired towards his bedroom, where Gianna has taken ownership of, unlocking it with the spare keys.

Instantly, the dangling sounds of the door was heard, the little figure that was formerly curled up on the bed sleeping soundly with the duvet wrapped around her delegated body startled from her slumber and sat up in fright.

Gianna’s POV

I watched as Greg walked up to me, his right fist was dripping wet with blood.

His eyes at the moment were nothing close to those magical night blue eyes I have seen.

He reeked of evil mischief. His appearance was more of a rebellious demon seeking for revenge.

“I’m sorry Master”, I cried rubbing my palms together.

BOOM!

He stretched out his hands towards me taking me by the neck, and then threw me like a beans bag to the wall.

“Aaaaahhh!”, I cried as I collided with the glass wall, and fell roughly to the floor with a thump, puking out some good amount of blood.

He walked up to me.

“You dare disobeyed me? You dare try my patience?”, he sounded squatting beside me.

“I’m sorry please…”.

“Dont you dare sorry me”, he cut through me and gave me a brain resetting slap, making me to see some stars, as my ears went silent for some seconds.

I was starting to loose my sight as everywhere was becoming blur to me.

He took my wrist roughly and I slowly hissed in pain as a result of the pain from the previous night.NôvelDrama.Org content rights.

In a twinkle of an eye, he took out a small short bladed knife, used for dicing, more like a penknife.

My eyes widened.

“What are you gonna do with that?”, I managed to ask in alertness sensing the danger. He only glanced briefly at me without a word.

Then without warning, he dug the knife into my wrist as I let out a horror filled cried.

“Please let go”, I begged, crying real hard.

“What the heck have I done wrong?”, I wondered, crying more due to the pain that he was inflicting on me.

He kept using the knife to form some letters on my wrist as blood ozzed out profusely.

I cried, screamed, pleaded, but the beast was so engrossed in his torture.

“Done!”, he blabbed with a wicked grin as he let go of my wrist.

I glanced at my wrist with teary eyes.

“YOU ARE MINE”, was eligibly written on it.

Tears rolled down my face.

He took one last glance at me before stepping out.

I bursted into tears.


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