" Oh what is it?" He suddenly halted and took both my hands in his and looked deep right into my eyes.
Suddenly right now, l didn't see him this mafia guy. Or the scary man who had held many lives in terror. He was so warm and welcoming that l think l lost my mind completely. What is he doing to me now?
" I don't want you to leave. Evie ,l feel like you have became one big part in my life and l can't live well without you around. I want to know you more, l want to keep going out with you, the way your smooth long hair flies in the wind night making you into an ethereal beauty. And whenever l look in your eyes, l feel this strange feeling tingling in my chest.l just,l just want to stay by your side." After his speech, l could only just look at him and freeze in space.
Suddenly, I couldn't breathe anymore,my whole body tensed up and l felt my chest was almost about to burst,but what do l do when all of this happens, l have never felt anything like this. I have been through alot but all of this is so foreign to me.
I wonder if he feels the same or is it just me all delusional in this, or maybe l imagining this,and it's not happening because it feels so good to be true but at the same time thrilling and scary but lovely.
" I think...I feel...l want ... I am..." My word were stuck in my throat and speaking felt so hard for me.
" Hhh, you are so flustered right now..." He chuckled,his eyes lighting up. And his husky voice with a chuckle,it did numbers to me.
" No, am not." I said and then turned around touching my face and felt so hot.
" You look so cute now ." He walked around and then bent down looking at me. I opened my eyes and saw him looking at my face again.
" Alex, really you have to stop this."
" Evie,l think l lied to you when l said it was only a simple I interest."
"What now?..."
"Am more than interested, but head over hills for you." He smirked and l felt my heart just stop right at that moment.
" Alex....." I completely lost what to add on.
A while ago,l was thinking of leaving and maybe whatever l was feeling would stop but right now am feeling ever more mixed feelings. And he even proposed that l would say with him.
Why is he coming so close to me, and whenever I think of what l am supposed to do with him. That makes me french because I think l won't too imagine what l would do without this crazy guy with me.
At first l thought he was annoying and a horrible guy but why does he seem like the angel l have been looking for. And why do feel so protected around him. While he is the scariest guy we know, he is deadliest but l am feeling this for him.
" Evie... Evie..." I heard him call out, and l felt myself fell into his arms and my body just gave up.
---
The mansion was too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet—no. This was the kind that felt controlled… suffocating. Like even the air knew better than to move without permission.
At the far end of the grand hall, beneath a towering chandelier of cold crystal light, sat Lord Ezekiel.
His chair—no, his throne—was carved from dark mahogany, its edges sharp, almost predatory. It rose high behind him, framing his figure like a crown meant not for a king… but for something far less merciful.
He didn't move much. He didn't need to.
One hand rested lazily against the armrest, fingers adorned with rings that glinted like silent warnings. The other tapped once—slowly, deliberately—against the wood. Each tap echoed across the marble floor like a ticking clock.
Waiting.
His gaze was what truly unsettled people. Cold. Calculated. The kind of eyes that didn't just look at you—they measured you. Weighed your worth. Decided, in seconds, whether you were useful… or disposable.
Footsteps approached.
Careful. Controlled. Afraid.
The servant stopped several feet away, head bowed low, as if even eye contact would be considered a crime.
"My lord," he began, voice steady but just barely, "everything you requested… has been arranged."
Silence.
Ezekiel didn't respond immediately. He leaned back slightly, eyes never leaving the trembling figure before him.
"Everything?" His voice was low, smooth… almost gentle.
That was the worst part.
"Yes, my lord. The shipment has been rerouted, the witnesses… dealt with, and the council has no suspicion. It has all gone exactly as you planned."
Another pause.
Then—just the faintest smile.
Not warm. Not pleased.
Sharp.
"Good."
He stood.
The movement was slow, but it carried weight. Authority. Finality. Like the room itself shifted to make space for him.
Ezekiel descended the steps of his platform, each footstep echoing like a verdict being delivered.
"You've done well," he said, stopping just behind the servant.
For a moment—just a moment—it sounded like approval.
Then his voice dropped, colder than before.
"But understand this… I do not reward loyalty."
A breath caught in the servant's throat.
"I reward perfection."
The air tightened.
Ezekiel leaned slightly closer, his presence overwhelming, suffocating.
"And I eliminate anything less."
Silence swallowed the room again.
Then, just as suddenly as the tension had peaked, he straightened, turning away as if the man behind him no longer mattered.
"Leave," he said simply.
The servant didn't hesitate. He turned and disappeared quickly, almost stumbling in his urgency to escape.
Ezekiel returned to his throne.
Sat.
Still.
Untouchable.
And in that vast, silent mansion… it was clear to anyone who dared step inside—
Lord Ezekiel didn't rule with power.
He ruled with fear.
---
The doors opened once more.
No rush. No fear.
Just precision.
Gabriel stepped in, his presence cutting cleanly through the heavy silence of the hall. This time, there was something slightly different in his expression—sharper, more alert. Like even he understood the weight of what was coming.
"My lord."
Ezekiel didn't turn immediately. He sat still on his throne, fingers steepled beneath his chin, gaze lost somewhere distant… calculating outcomes that hadn't happened yet.
"The list," Gabriel continued, stepping forward and presenting a refined document—thicker than before. More names. More power.
Ezekiel took it.
Opened it.