******
Blood. Everywhere. It coated the walls, the floor, the air itself. The metallic tang of it filled my nostrils moved closer , every inch of me trembling. It wasn't just blood; it was a sea, a thick red tide that swallowed everything in its path, drowning me in terror.
My body shook uncontrollably as I stumbled forward, my heartbeat hammering in my chest. This can't be real, I thought, but the sight before me was undeniable. I could taste the iron on my tongue, could feel it on my skin, slick and wet, as though it had seeped into my very bones.
There—by the far wall, barely recognizable beneath the crimson pool, a body lay still, lifeless. I gasped, my chest tightening as I approached, each step heavier than the last, my pulse thrumming in my ears. I had to know. I had to see. But fear gripped me like a vice, freezing me in place, my legs refusing to move.
But I couldn't stop myself. Not now.
I reached out a trembling hand and flipped the body over, my stomach lurching as the sight before me crashed into my brain like a tidal wave. It was her—it was her. Her eyes, wide and vacant, stared up at me, unblinking, unseeing. The blood from her broken neck pooled in a fountain, still dripping, staining everything it touched.
A low, strangled sound crawled up my throat. No, no, no, I thought, my mind screaming.
"Please," I whispered through the tightness in my chest, my voice barely audible, cracking. Guilt. It was suffocating, crushing me from the inside out.
Suddenly, a hand gripped my shoulder. I spun around, heart leaping in my throat. The blood-soaked figure of her—shewas still there, her body mangled and broken, her hand slick with blood as she reached for me.
Her eyes, once warm and loving, now burned with rage.
"You did this!" Her voice was a raw, guttural scream, filled with anguish and fury. "You killed me!"
I staggered back, my hands pressing against my ears, but the voice—her voice—it tore through me, echoed in my skull, louder, more insistent.
"You killed me, You killed me!"
Each word felt like a blade carving into my chest. It was too much. Too much to bear. The room spun around me, the blood pooling beneath my feet, the smell of death thick in the air. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.
"You killed me!"
The words rang through me, relentless. It felt like I was being torn apart from the inside out, my mind unable to escape the shrill scream that followed, over and over:
"You killed me! Xavier!"
I screamed in agony, my body shaking under the weight of her accusation, my lungs suffocating on the bitter air.
Waking
I jolted awake, gasping, drenched in cold sweat. My pillow was soaked through, and my head was pounding, the pressure like was too on my skull. My eyes wide open in horror.
Those nightmares—again.
They were hunting me, clawing at me from the inside. They were no longer just dreams; they were becoming real.
I sat up, the remnants of the dream swirling around me like smoke. Every detail felt too vivid, too fresh. But there was one question that still gnawed at me, leaving a pit in my stomach: Why did Scarlett trigger those memories?
She wasn't the first woman I'd been with since the event. But she was the first to pull me back into that hell.
Why her?
The thought seared through my head like a knife, and I staggered to my drawer, pulling it open with shaky hands. The bottle of pills sat there, tempting. Without thinking, I took a handful—an overdose—and swallowed them dry. The bitter taste burned my throat.
The pain intensified.
I grabbed a bottle of water and drank the whole content, then fling the empty bottle away.
I stumbled into the bathroom, the cold water from the shower doing nothing to soothe me. It was like I was still there, trapped in the nightmare, her voice still ringing in my ears, her eyes filled with rage and disgust . I couldn't escape it.
Scarlett.
Why did she willingly try have sex last night? Even to the extent of seduction.
Had she done it just to push me, to break me?
I couldn't shake the feeling that she had set this whole thing in motion on purpose.
Anger stirred deep inside me. It had to be intentional. I would make her pay for this.
Scarlett's POV
I woke up sore—my body aching from the night before. The events of the previous evening ran through my mind in disjointed flashes.
What did I do to cause him to react like that?
I grabbed my phone, dialing Mr. Cross's number repeatedly, but it rang and rang, unanswered.
Frustration clawed at me as I tossed my phone aside. I had to figure this out. I needed answers.
I pushed myself up and moved toward the bathroom. A quick bath would help clear my head.
Then I will go to Mr Grey's room to get some answers.
Afterward, I knocked on Mr. Grey's door. No response.
I hesitated, but finally pushed it open, just enough to peer inside. The room was empty.
I waited, and then knocked again. And again.
No response.
Just as I was about to give up, his voice echoed from the other side. "Come in."
I stepped inside.
He had just finished showering. His body was still damp, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and using a smaller one to dry his hair. He turned to me, his eyes burning with something I couldn't comprehend but they sent cold shivers down my spine.
"Good morning Mr Grey" I greeted not expecting a reply and neither did I get one.
"Mr Grey, umm last night…" I was still speaking when he suddenly turned to me. His eyes speaking of trouble. I backed away.
"What were you up to last night" he asked, his tone rising with a sudden danger. I shivered, holding my silk gown tightly as fear gripped me.
"I don't underst…" his hands suddenly reached closer and grabbed my neck, I crawled at his hands. He shifted instantly throwing me across a wall and pinning me to it.
"What suddenly spiced your desires to have sex last night" he asked his brows furrowing in anger "answer me" he shouted implying more pressure on my neck. I shivered.
"Mr Grey pls I had no ill intention, I swear" I beg almost at the verge of choking.
He violently pushed me away. I hit the ground, my body hurting as I tried catch my breath.
"You wanna have sex right, well let's do it" he said advancing towards me and grabbed my hair— dragging me towards the bed "my way". I screamed, kicked, begged him but he didn't listen.
He pushed me on the bed and pounced on me, releasing his full weight all on me— I felt helpless.
But I kept struggling— begging and crying to him to stop. But he didn't care, no single emotion shone in those black eyes.
He raised my hands above my head and brought out a something for under the pillow—handcuffs. I moved my body in protest but he didn't flinch, instead he tightened his grip, using the hand to lock my hands together.
His lips crashed on mine but this kiss was different. It felt like he was trying to eat up my mouth.It was filled with so much anger and hatred, combined together and released on my innocent lips.
I groaned, the pain overwhelming and increasing every second. His hands moved to my zip and he dragged it open, before slipping it down my body. I kicked but nothing — he was too strong.
He advanced to my boobs, pulling them out from my bra— not bothering unhooking it. He pressed it really hard, his hands targeting my nipples. I screamed and begged him . But the agony only increased.
"Am sorry pls stop..am ..sorry" I kept apologizing, not even knowing what I did exactly wrong.
He stopped and moved to my lacy underwear and dragged it down, just before my knee. I closed my eyes preparing my his harness inside of me but, nothing happened. Opening my eyes, I saw him gripping his hair like he was in pain.
Panic ran through me , as I tried to help him but he shoved me aside, ordering me to leave— with a very harsh tone.
I did not dare protest, I used my handcuffed hands to drag my underwear up and tuck my boobs back in place. I can't possibly go out like this. I wanted to use the duvet as a cover but he was sitting on in— backing me.
Noticing I was still around, he roared at me "I saw get out" he shouted. I flinched and ran out with my heart in my mouth.
I felt so embarrassed as I crossed my hands around my chest. Shame choking me. I broke down in tears and just sat down close to his door. Hugging myself together and leaning on the way.
Why am I facing all this? I did nothing wrong? Why does everyone just wanna see me in pain?.
Hot tears streamed down my eyes.
I felt something being dropped on me— a cover.