♥ Chapter 18 ♥

Axel Norvelli. 

10:10 ''Axel's room. ''Valdoria.

I wake up feeling every muscle in my body sore. Memories of the intense night I spent with that woman are running through my mind. I sit up in bed, rubbing my eyes as I try to get my bearings. I look around, looking for any sign of her, but I can't find her. Furthermore, I let out a sigh of relief, mixed with a touch of apprehension.

I shift my gaze to the nightstand next to the bed, where I see a note. I catch it with difficulty, my body protesting with each movement. Furthermore, I feel a chill down my spine when I read what is written: “I need to resolve something. If you dare to run away, you will suffer the consequences.” The words are clear, and each letter is imbued with an implicit threat.

My mind goes into confusion. I don't know what I'm feeling. There is a mixture of feelings that I can't identify. Last night was a whirlwind of emotions and sensations. Despite the constant fear of being killed by her, there were moments when I felt something different. The knowledge that I was giving pleasure to someone else gave me a strange kind of satisfaction. I never imagined I could feel this way, torn between fear and a kind of dark pleasure.

I let out another sigh and covered my face with my hands, trying to process it all. Suddenly, I feel something on my neck. My hands touch a cold, metallic object. I get up from the bed, ignoring the pain that shoots through my body, and run to the bathroom.

When I look in the mirror, I am shocked. Around my neck is a choker with the initials C.V. My heart races, and a chill runs down my spine. I try to understand the meaning of this gift. She marked me as if I were one of her possessions.

I look down at my body, noticing for the first time the marks that cover my skin. Hickeys, bites, and scratches. Each mark is a reminder of the night before. I turn to look at my back in the mirror and see that it is equally marked. The initial shock is mixed with a feeling of humiliation and vulnerability.

I sit on the bathroom floor, trying to organize my thoughts. The confusion in my mind is overwhelming. I feel a mixture of revulsion at being marked as her possession and, at the same time, something deeper and more disturbing. There's a part of me that feels alive like never before, even if it comes with pain and fear.

I grip the edge of the sink, trying to compose myself. "What am I doing?" I ask myself out loud. The choker around my neck is a constant reminder of the power she has over me. With every movement I make and every breath I take, I feel the weight of your presence.

I stand up slowly, still watching my reflection. The memory of your touch and your firm, demanding hands makes my heart beat faster. But the memory of its threat is also present—a constant shadow that hangs over me. I try to understand what she wants from me. Why did you choose me? I'm just a bartender, someone who has nothing to do with your world of violence.

Running away is not an option. Even though I don't know her that well, I know there's no easy escape. I'm sure she's not the type of person to let someone walk out of her life unscathed. I feel torn between the desire to escape this situation and the strange attraction I feel towards her.

Furthermore, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my mind. I have to find a way to deal with this and understand what is happening to me. I try to understand the conflicting emotions I feel for her. Fear, repulsion, and desire. Everything is mixed together in a mess that leaves me dizzy.

I decide to take a shower, hoping the hot water will ease some pain and tension in my body. I step into the shower, letting the water run over me. Suddenly, a thought invades my mind: her body is so sexy. I try to push the thought away, but it sticks in my mind.

I whimper, feeling the initial disgust begin to dissipate. Furthermore, I remember her body and how she used me for her pleasure, but also how good it felt. She looked at me with desire, mixed with something I couldn't identify. Knowing that someone felt desire for me and not disgust makes me feel a strange sense of well-being.

I shake my head, trying to push away these thoughts. That woman is dangerous. She broke into my house and used me like a toy. How can I feel good about this? I try to focus on the hot water and the clean feeling, but memories of last night continue to invade my mind.

I remember how she touched me, with a mixture of possession and desire. The way his eyes burned when he looked at me. No one had ever looked at me like that before. I was always invisible—just a bartender in a world that didn't care about me. But she saw me. And even if it was in a twisted and cruel way, she made me feel alive.

That thought scares me. How can I start to like this? I try to convince myself that it's just a physical response, that my body is reacting to stimuli, but my mind refuses to accept this simple explanation.

The water continues to rush over me, and I hold on to the shower head, trying to regain control of my thoughts. I close my eyes and let the memories float freely, hoping it will help me process everything. I try to remember every detail, trying to understand what attracted me so much to her.

Her strength, her determination, and the way she took control. Part of me envies that strength. I have always been weak, I have always let others dictate my life. But she is different. She knows what she wants and isn't afraid to take it.

I feel a tear run down my face. I don't know if it's because of the physical or emotional pain. Maybe a little of both. I'm lost and confused, not knowing what to do or how to feel. I try to push these thoughts away, but they continue to torment me.