chapter 18 "Hey kitten"

(A few moments before running into Kamala...)

The way back to my room was the hardest.

The world around me seemed blocked out by the hazy vision, no doubt caused by the alcohol.

It was all I had left. Drinking.

The elevator doors shut together in front of my eyes as the machine slowly carried me up.

I was a coward. I knew that. Instead of dealing with the problems, I chose to take shelter in alcohol.

I have always done this. Whenever a situation had occurred a slight mishap, I would head straight for the bar.

But this time, I was really fucked.

I went over all my options again and again, but each and every time I wounded up dead.

Sure, I could blame myself for getting tangled up on this shit, but that would mean accepting defeat.

And that's something I swore I would never do.

No.

I knew who was to blame for all this.

Alister.

Fucking Alister.

If that asshole gave me even a smidge of attention, I would not be in this situation.

In this world, Alister was the king. And what the king says, goes.

It's why I wanted to join forces with him in the first place. I thought we could be unstoppable. The two of us.

But Alister barely knows I exist.

All he cares about is his fucking mafia.

The mechanical doors snapped open to reveal a floor that resembled mine.

I took a step forward to enter the maroon colored hallway.

My intoxicated eyes swept from one place to another as my feet were barely keeping me from stumbling.

I waltzed by the dozens of paintings that hanged on the side of the elongated hallway as I tried to remember which door belonged to me.

Feeling fatigued, I sat down at the side of the hallway right next to a dark wooded shelf.

And that's when I saw it.

The dark strand of hair walking past me with a mop in her head.

I don't know what it was but it was something about the way she was returning from Alister's room that made me even more furious.

It's not that I cared about her.

She was just a fucking slave after all, but she was a reminder of how powerful Alister is. How he gets everything he could ever want.

How he just stole a maid from me and how easily he had done it.

The thought seemed to hit a nerve as the next thing I remembered doing was lunging into the clueless girl as I circled her her into the nearest wall.

"Hey kitten."

The words flew out of my mouth without me even realizing what I was saying.

Not that I minded.

The fear in her eyes was obvious. Obviously she heard the rumors about me. I could see her panic the moment her eyes met mine.

I felt guilty.

Not because of her fright. No. I had seen that look on her eyes on many women before.

I felt guilty because the truth was I didn't even care anymore. I didn't care what would happen to her, what I would do to her.

At that moment all I knew was that I needed to take my anger out on someone.

Someone as innocent as her.

That was the last thought to enter my mind before I stroke the maid across the face.

"I didn't appreciate coming back into a dirty room." I whispered as I leaned in closer to her ear before pulling her even closer to me.

Then I started to kiss her neck as he yelled in surprise.

"Please! I-I h-had to g-go! L-lord M-Mancini-"

"Shut the fuck up!" I yelled as I kneed her into the stomach as caught her by the hair before she could fall to the ground.

The mention of his name seemed to only provoke me more as the next thing I knew, her ripped shirt was laying on the ground.

She whacked out and tried to push me off her but I caught her wrists and slammed them into the wall. My grip was so tight I wouldn't be surprised if she broke them.

That alone should have stopped me, but I kept going.

I'd like to blame it on the alcohol. Anything.But the truth was this was me.

And I was remorseless.

I swiftly tore off her bra as she begged for me stop.

I could barely hear her as most body seemed to lose all control.

The struggling became annoying to me and I wondered if it would have been better to knock her out and have her way with me then.

But I liked a challenge.

Her screams echoed throughout the air and I saw some mafia men run to the source of the screams.

When they realized what was going on, they put their head down in shame and walked away, pretending they never saw what was going on.

Good.

I still had authority over some people in this fucking country.

The screams were getting irritating, so I roughly dropped my elbow to her neck. The sounds of choking were better than the constant screaming.

Soon enough, her body stopped struggling.

I grabbed her breast and slowly made my way into the lower regions.

For some twisted reason, I was enjoying this. The way her body submitted to mine. The way she had no choice but to take my abuse.

The superiority.

That's what I loved.

That's why I kept doing this.

Her skirt was off in an instant and the door boy thing keeping me away from her cunt were the white panties that showed her body no justice.

And soon enough, they too lay on the floor.

The girl was crying but the choking seemed to quiet it down.

It was fascinating, really.

I didn't want to enjoy this. I didn't want to be a rapist.

But I did. I did enjoy this.

I was about to enter her and my dick was twitching with excitement.

I couldn't help but smirk when I saw the girl.

She was still conscious. Tear were covering her cheeks and her mouth was gasping for air.

This was what I needed. The reminder of my power.

That was the last thought I had before I felt a weird sensation at the side of my head.

At first it felt weird, but then the pain kicked in.

That's when I realized I was hit with a glass bottle to the side of the head.

And then everything went black.