Strings of Pain

Strings Of Pain Copyrights.

Strings of Pain Copyright © 2025 by Diaz, All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events is strictly coincidental.

Strings Of Pain is a Dark, Stalker College Romance…..(She does the stalking)

Triggers

This book will contain mature and graphic content that is not suitable for all audiences. Trigger warnings include–graphic sexually explicit scenes, physical assault, attempted sexual assault, blood/gore, mask kink, knife play, fire play, raw sex/sex without a condom, praise kink, and murder. If all of this it’s fine by you, then Welcome to Strings of Pain.

CHAPTER 1.

Aislyn’s POV.

I lean against the cold, damp wall of one of my father’s underground cells. The rough surface biting into my back as I stand beside Lilith.

Lilith is my cousin from my father's side, she’s 21 years old just like me, and she can easily light up a room with her soft laughter and gentle demeanor. She's the embodiment of sweetness, with her pastel dresses and delicate floral patterns that dance around her as she makes her presence known.

We are two sides of the same coin, yet somehow, we fit together like puzzle pieces. She’s more like a sister to me. We know everything about each other, and I know without a doubt, she has my back just like I have hers.

We both watch, our eyes wide with a mix of fascination and morbid curiosity, as our fathers torture a man who had dared to sell information about our family to the police.

The air around us is thick with the scent of blood and sweat, a familiar aroma that has long since lost its shock value for us.

"Look at him screaming, Lilith." I say, a smile creeping onto my lips as my father cuts off the man’s ear.

The shriek that follows is music to my ears, a symphony of pain that echoes in the dimly lit room. Lilith leans closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Have you talked to your dad about what you’ve decided?” She asks and I shake my head, my gaze still fixed on the scene unfolding before us.

“Not yet. I’ll do it at breakfast, when he’s had his coffee.You know how grumpy he gets when he hasn’t had it.”

Not to exaggerate, but the news I’m about to tell him isn’t an easy pill to swallow.

Lilith giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re right. He’ll probably throw a fit over it.”

I chuckle softly, imagining my father’s reaction. He’s a man of tradition, a man who believes in the old ways, and the thought of me breaking those rules makes my heart race.

“Are you sure you want to do it, though? You’re breaking years of rules put upon the women in our world.” Her tone shifts to one of concern, and I roll my eyes, exasperated.

“Those rules are ridiculous, Lilith. Why can a man do whatever he wants, but we can’t?” I say crossing my arms over my chest.

“Because that's how it always has been…..Think about it, what if they find out? What if they know who you are?” She asks, while her eyebrows furrow.

“No one will know who I am. Our fathers have made sure to keep our identities hidden.”

Lilith bites her lip, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, and I don’t blame her, I’m taking a risk by doing something that can backfire not only on me, but my entire family as well.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt. You know how the elders are, they don’t take kindly to disobedience.” She whispers.

“Whatever happens, I can handle it. I won’t let their rules dictate my future." My eyes turn to my father, who’s plunging a knife into the man’s thigh, eliciting another scream that sends shivers down my spine.

I feel a thrill at the sight, a rush of adrenaline that makes me feel alive.

“This is what we were born into, Lilith. We’re not meant to be meek and submissive. We’re meant to be powerful, just like our fathers." I smirk, and she sighs.

“But at what cost? You’re risking everything.” Her brows furrow again, and I cross my arms. She might be okay with a lot of the rules in our world, but I’m not.

“Everything?” I scoff quietly to not get the attention of my father and uncle. “What do I have to lose? A life of servitude to someone I don’t know? A life where I’m expected to marry some man and bear his children?”

Lilith sighs again and nods, but I can see the worry etched on her face. I push that aside as I turn my attention back to the man, who’s now begging for mercy, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Please, I’ll never do it again!” The man bound to the chair pleads. But my father just leans in closer to his ear, a sinister smile playing on his lips.

"You should have thought of that before you decided to betray us.” My father tells him.

I feel pride as I watch him work, the way he commands the room, the way he instills fear in those who dare to cross him. I want that power. I want to be feared and respected, not just as Orion Carson’s daughter or my future husband’s wife, but as a force to be reckoned with.

My father and uncle turn to Lilith and I, their expressions a mix of pride and expectation.

“We didn’t bring you here to just watch young ladies. Are you going to take over or what?” My uncle says, which makes Lilith and I laugh, then I glance at her, before we walk over to take over for them. The thrill of the moment coursing through our veins. As we approach the man, his eyes widen in fear.

“Please, I didn’t mean to…” He tries to plead for his life, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

“Save it. You’re in no position to negotiate.” Lilith remarks, as she picks up a knife from the table to our side, her hands trembling slightly. I love her to death, but she hates the sight of blood.

“What do we do first?” She asks, and I smirk, feeling a rush of power right at my grasp.

“Let’s start with something simple. Let’s see how long he can hold out before he begs for mercy again.”

Lilith nods, her confidence growing as she steps closer to the man.

“You’re going to regret crossing our family.” She tells him, which makes the man shakes his head, tears streaming down his face as fear takes over his body.

“I didn’t know what I was doing!” He yells at the top of his lungs.

“You should have thought about that before you sold us out.” I say at the same time Lilith presses the knife against his ribs, just enough to draw some blood.

“How does it feel to know you’re about to die?”

The man whimpers in pain, a high-pitched, almost childlike sound that betrays his adult stature. While his body trembles violently, the tremor is visible in the way his teeth chatter and his shoulders shake. He knows we won’t go easy on him, he can see it in our eyes, and even the way we taunt him.

‘’Please, I have a family!’’ He pleads again.

‘’So did the people you betrayed!’’ I snap back, my patience wearing thin. Did he think he was going to have it easy just because our dads gave us the reins to take over?

If he only knew that I crave blood like I crave pizza. I have no weak bones in my body, and not many things can make me flinch, so this? This is child's play for me.

Lilith looks at me, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she twirls the knife between her fingers.

“What if we make him talk? Get him to tell us who wants our dads behind bars." I nod at her, the idea sparking a new thrill within me.

“Good thinking. Let’s see how much he knows.” I step back, allowing Lilith to take the lead and get some of her anger out, after all, she loves making her daddy proud.

She presses the knife deeper into his ribs, and the man screams, the sound echoing off the walls and making me smile. What can I say? I’m a sick bitch when it comes to these things.

“Who else? Who else is working with you?” She asks and the man gasps for air, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape, which there’s none. He will not be leaving here, not alive anyways.

“I... I can’t! They’ll put me behind bars……or worse, kill me!” He cries.

“You’re already dead. You might as well tell us everything.” I remind him, stepping closer again. Lilith leans into his ear, her voice a little sinister whisper.

“We can make this quick or slow. It’s your choice.” Lilith punctuates each word with a slice on each rib on his right side, making the man’s resolve crumble, and he starts to babble.

“O-Okay! Okay….. I’ll tell you! Just stop!” He sobs, finally breaking.

I exchanged a glance with Lilith, another wicked smile spreading across my face because he gave out easier than I thought he would.

“See? This is fun.” I wink at my cousin and she shakes her head with a smile.

As he spills the names of his accomplices, which are all pretty low in the police department, I can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. This is what I’m meant to do, be an equal to whoever I marry. I enjoy this, I thrive in making people sweat and push them until they break.

When he finishes spilling the beans on what exactly he said and to who, I nod at Lilith.

“Now, let’s make sure he never speaks again.” She grins at me, the knife glinting in her hand before she tosses it at me, and with a swift motion, I grab it, the cold steel feeling familiar against my palm. The man looks up at me, terror etched across his face as I settle right in front of him.

“Please…..I didn’t mean to betray the family. I was desperate! They were pushing me!” He cries out again, and I can feel the weight of my father’s gaze on me, urging me to act, counting on me to get the job done.

“Desperation doesn’t excuse betrayal, that’s a lesson I learned when I was barely five.” I coldly say, before plunging the knife into his skull without hesitation.The moment is electric, a rush of power surging through me as his body goes limp beneath the blade.

My dad steps forward, pride evident in their eyes as a smile paints his face.

“Good job, princess.” He kisses the crown of my head, and the warmth of his approval envelopes me like a hug. Just like Lilith, I also want to make my dad proud, even when I don’t always play by the rules given to us.

“Come on girls. Let’s clean this mess.” My uncle grins and we nod. As we clean up the mess, I can feel the weight of my decision settling in.

I have made a decision, and pretty soon I need to take the step towards making it a reality. I’m not going to be a spectator in my own future, I will be an active participant. I intend to rise above the expectations placed upon me, even if that angers those above or equal to my father.

AT BREAKFAST.

Once we have cleaned up, and I have showered, I meet my father and mom for breakfast down in the dining room.

They are already at the table, my father engrossed in the morning newspaper while my mother pours coffee into his steaming mug.

As I settle into my chair, I catch the glint of my father’s watchful eyes. He’s a man of few words but many expressions, and this morning is no different. After a few moments of silence, mostly filled by the clinking of silverware and the rustle of newspaper pages, I know it’s time to share my news.

“Dad.” I begin, my voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach. “I want to enroll at Oakfield College.”

He raises an eyebrow, the morning light casting a sharp shadow across his face, a typical reaction to any unexpected announcement. He glances at my mother next, who’s stirring her coffee with a knowing smile, and then he looks back to me.

“Was this your mother’s idea?” He asks. My mother shakes her head, her honey hair moving gracefully as she does while a gentle laugh escapes her lips.

“It was not, this is all her, my love. I don’t know why you’re so surprised though, you know how she is when she gets an idea in that little head of hers.” She says with a smile which makes my father narrow his eyes at her.

I clear my throat, bringing the attention back to me. “Mom has nothing to do with my decision, daddy.”

My father leans back in his chair, arms crossed, and the newspaper is now completely forgotten.

“And I suppose this has everything to do with the fact that the Allister heir is attending Oakfield?” He asks with a hint of amusement.

I feel my heart races at the mention of the Allister name. The name that sends ripples through this city just like ours does.

“Yes, it has everything to do with it." I admit without missing a beat. “I want to meet the man behind the name, the man I am destined to marry when I turn twenty-five.”

His expression shifts, a mix of concern and authority dancing in his eyes that makes me question if this was the right time to bring this up.

“What you’re asking is very serious, princess. We have rules for a reason. Girls aren’t supposed to see their betrothed before marriage. It’s the way it’s been done for decades.” He tells me.

“Well I think those rules are just a bunch of crap.” I reply.

He clears his throat. A warning in his eyes, which makes me quickly realize my mistake.

“Sorry.” I mumble, looking down at my plate. I might be a lot of things, but being disrespectful to my parents is not one of them.

“You know why these traditions exist, Aislyn. Even when I don’t like them myself, they’re there for a reason. Alliances need to be built or they need to keep going, and meeting and interacting before marriage can jeopardize that." He pinches the bridge of his nose then continues. “The Allisters are an important family to us, they have been for generations, and your marriage will strengthen our positions even more.”

“I know, Dad. But this is my life we’re talking about. Why can’t I meet him and decide for myself? What if he’s a total dick, I don’t want to marry him?” I look at him as I say this.

He sighs, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “You’ll do what is expected of you. We’re bound by our commitments, you know that. It’s not just about you.”

“Maybe it should be.” I retorted, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “I’m not a pawn in a game between you and his father. I want to know who I’m marrying, not just some name on a contract.”

I look down at my hands, which are now on my lap. I’m not one to beg, I’m usually the one who gets everything she wants, but this? This is something I will beg if I have to. “Do you want me to live unhappily for the rest of my life if I don’t like him?”

Dad’s gaze softens, and I know I have struck the chord that has always worked in my favor. He’s a man who would kill without hesitation, but when it comes to my happiness, he would jump through hoops and break rules as if they were made of glass.

“What will make you happy?” He finally gives up.

“Just like I told you, I just want to spend a year there. Get to know him. He doesn’t have to know who I am. I don’t even have to talk to him. I just want to know how he is.” I know I have to marry him, the consequences of defiance are far too grave. My father, my mother, our entire family would face unimaginable repercussions if I don’t, which is why I come up with another way around it.

I understand the stakes. I’m not naive.

But blind obedience doesn't sit well with me. I’m not willing to walk blindly into a life with someone I barely know, someone chosen for me based on alliances and power dynamics.

That’s why I’ve proposed a compromise, a calculated risk that balances duty with my own needs. Because here's the truth, I'm not just looking for a husband, I'm looking for a partner. And if the man they have chosen for me doesn't quite fit the mold, if his ways clash with my own, I intend to shape him.

Call it manipulative, call it ambitious, but I see it as realistic.

If I'm to be bound to this man for life, I will ensure that my life alongside him is one I cannot only tolerate, but flourish in. Understanding his weaknesses and strengths, his desires and his fears, gives me the leverage to influence him, to subtly steer him towards becoming the person I need him to be.

And I have no problem shaping someone into what I need.

My mother reaches across the table, grabbing Dad’s hand and smiling at me.

“Orion, think about it. Don’t you want her to have a love like we do? Passion and devotion?” She says lovingly, as if remembering their beginning.

Even when I talk-the-big-talk about compromise, about manipulation. The truth is, deep down mom is right, I think deep down I want to meet him to see if I can fall in love with him.

We all search for it, that elusive, all-consuming, and profoundly beautiful thing we call love. We read about it in books, see it in movies, and hear about it from friends, but sometimes, the most authentic and inspiring example of love can be found within the walls of our own homes.

For me, that example is my parents. Their marriage, a testament to patience, understanding, and unwavering commitment, is my biggest inspiration when it comes to love.

I've lost count of the times they've recounted their story, each telling richer with detail and affection than the last.

It's a story that begins with a significant barrier.....language. When they first met, my mother, a native English speaker, couldn't utter a word in Russian. And my father, on the other hand, was equally unfamiliar with English. It would have been easy to see this as an insurmountable obstacle, a reason to give up before even starting. But they didn't.

Instead, they embraced the challenge, choosing to connect in ways that transcended mere vocabulary. Through gestures, expressions, and a shared desire to understand each other, they built a bridge. They created their own language, a unique blend of sounds, movements, and inside jokes.

This private language, born out of necessity and nurtured by affection, became the foundation of their relationship. With time and patience, they both eventually learned each other's native languages, but that initial, self-made language remained a testament to the depths of their connection.

Growing up, I was fortunate enough to witness the beautiful manifestations of their love firsthand. I remember, with vivid clarity, the warmth of my father's embrace when he returned home from work. It wasn't just a quick hug, it was a deeply affectionate gesture.

He would wrap his arms completely around my mother's shoulders, pressing his face into her hair while his body seemed to curve protectively over hers. In those single, encompassing hugs, I saw a lifetime of love, devotion, and comfort.

Those daily displays, seemingly small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, painted a picture of a love that is real, grounded, and unwavering.

It isn't a love fueled by fleeting passion or superficial attraction, but by a deep and abiding respect for one another. It’s a love that perseveres through language barriers, cultural differences, and the everyday challenges of life.

And that's what I yearn for.

Not necessarily the exact replica of their story, but the essence of it. I want a love that is built on a foundation of understanding, patience, and a willingness to bridge any gap that may arise. I want a love that is expressed through actions as much as words, a love that feels safe, comforting, and deeply, undeniably real.

My parents have shown me that true love isn't about finding someone who speaks your language perfectly. It's about finding someone willing to learn your heart, even if it means inventing a whole new language together.

Dad’s expression is torn, and I can see the gears turning in his mind. “Aislyn….. the Allisters are a powerful family. Their alliances are built on respect and secrecy. You could put everything at risk.”

“Isn’t that what life is about, Daddy? Taking risks?” I ask, trying to sound more convincing than desperate. “I deserve the chance to know him before everything is set in stone.”

He leans forward, his eyes piercing mine as a small smile plays on his lips. “And if you fall for him?”

My heart skips a beat at his question, and I feel like blood rushes to my face, while my palms suddenly feel clammy. “Then it’s a win-win for everyone involved.” I reply calmly.

Silence envelopes the room, thick and heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally, after a few seconds, dad sighs, the lines on his forehead deepening. “I’ll think about it.”

I nod slowly, relief flooding through me. I mean, I know it isn’t a guarantee that he will agree, but it’s a sliver of hope—a chance to carve my own destiny in a world that seeks to control it.

A FEW DAYS LATER.

The days that followed were filled with tension, uncertainty, and a touch of excitement.

I could feel the weight of my father’s decision pressing down on him, but I also sensed his reluctance to let go of the chains that bound me to tradition.

Finally, after a few days without even touching the subject on hand, my Dad called me into his study.

“I’ve thought long and hard about your request. And I’ve decided to allow you to attend Oakfield for a year.” He pushes aside a stack of papers and looks up at me.

My heart soars at the thought of finally putting a face to my future, but I also sense the weight of his words.

“But there will be conditions. He continues. "You will not reveal your identity to anyone. This is purely observation, nothing more. If you find yourself emotionally entangled, you will come home immediately.”

I nod, understanding the gravity of his terms.

I promise, Daddy.” I cross my finger behind my back. I know, I know, I shouldn’t be promising things I will not go through with. But technically, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

He leaned forward, a more serious expression crossing his face.

“I’ve taken all the steps with the administration of the school to ensure everything is to your liking when you get there. And all your classes will be the same as his, so you can know his interests.” His gaze hardens slightly as he watches me, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by a focused intensity. It's not unkind, but it's definitely more serious, as if he's trying to tell me this is serious and not a game. “I know you can take care of yourself, princess. But one call from you, and I will not think twice to pull you out of there as fast as I enrolled you.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” I smile, unable to contain my excitement any longer. I rush towards him and hug him tightly, making him chuckle, and wrap his arms around me as well.

"Can I know his name now?" I ask as I pull back slightly.

“Ares…..his name is Ares Allister.” He replies with a small smile.

“Ares.” I repeat, tasting the name on my tongue. Ares. It feels foreign, rough against the soft flesh, like a word that shouldn't belong to me.

“I know that look, princess. Please don’t make me regret my decision.” He raises an eyebrow which makes me put my right hand over my heart and smile at him, giving him my most innocent eyes, a practiced expression I've honed over years of getting my way. It's a performance for sure, but one I hope he'll buy like many times before.

“I won’t do anything that you wouldn’t want me to.” I grin.

“Lord help me.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

I smile, and bite my lip, because in a matter of days, I'd be standing face-to-face with the man I was destined to marry. The thought sends a surge of anticipation through me, a tangled knot of nerves and exhilaration. For years, I've envisioned this day, painted vivid pictures in my mind of the man I would spend my life with. Now, the moment is almost here. And I know, with a certainty that resonates deep within my bones, that I’m ready.

Perhaps he isn't quite prepared for the force of nature that is about to enter his life, but he shouldn’t worry, I don’t get crazy when it comes to men.

And if he’s one of those daddy boy’s, I know I will not like him one bit.

AT CAMPUS.

After days of anticipation, I finally arrived at Oakfield—a sprawling Campus nestled between ancient woods and modern luxury, its beauty belied by the darker undertones of its funding. The Mafia and Corrupt Politicians have paved the way for a new breed of elite students, and I’m one of the fortunate few to reside in one of the top luxury Condos that surrounds the School.

I have just begun to unpack my things, carefully folding clothes and arranging books when a sudden knock interrupts my thoughts.

Startled, I paused, glancing at the clock on the nightstand and raising an eyebrow. I’m expecting anyone– in fact, I don’t know a single soul here.

“So who the fuck is at my door?” I murmur to myself. After a moment of hesitation, I step into the entryway, only to discover that a piece of paper has slipped through the space under the door.

What the hell?

I open the door quickly to try and see who left this, but when I peer into the long corridor, it's empty. I close the door and pick up the paper from the floor. I immediately notice that it’s an invitation to a bonfire in the woods at midnight, a gathering to celebrate the start of the semester.

“Is this a mandatory thing?” My pulse quickens as I read the words again. A party? In the woods? The more I think about it, the more it sounds like a bad idea.

When I decided to come here, I set some rules of my own–stay low, avoid attention, and never get involved in anything that can draw the gaze of people who may know my dad. Yet, rebellion ignites within me. In the depths of my mind, I know this is an opportunity I can’t let slip—this is an opportunity to see Ares.

Would he even attend something like this?

The thought of being near him sends shivers down my spine, but the idea of watching him from afar ignites a sense of thrill I couldn’t ignore.

This is why I came here. To confront my future heads-on.

With my mind made up, I make my way to the bedroom and start looking for something to wear.

I slip into a pair of leather pants, a crop top, and throw on my go-to leather jacket. It's a look I always feel good in–it’s practical and edgy. To complete the look, I lace up my black combat boots, the thick soles giving me that essential dose of street style.

Grabbing my phone and pocket knife-necessities in the world I now inhabit. I make my way out of the Condo.

The path beneath my feet is barely visible, swallowed by the deep shadows of the surrounding woods. And each rustle of leaves, each snap of a twig underfoot, amplifies in the stillness, sending adrenaline through me.

Adrenaline begins to pump through my veins, a buzz that sharpens my senses. I'm getting closer.

When I reach the clearing, the scene that bursts into view is like a vibrant painting against a black canvas. The bonfire roars at the center, casting a flickering, dancing light that paints the faces of a dozen or so students in shifting hues of orange and shadow.

Laughter rings out, punctuated by the clinking of glass and the shouts of friendly conversation. They're all spread around the fire, some huddled in small groups, others swaying to the music, while bottles are passed, and stories are shared.

"They're having the time of their lives." I murmur to myself, as part of me wants to throw myself into the fray, to lose myself in the celebration and forget the reason I'm here. But instead, I find a solitary tree a short distance away from the chaotic energy of the bonfire, and lean against it, taking a deep breath to steady my racing heart as I scan the crowd, my eyes searching for the elusive figure I have come to see.

The question is….How will I know who he is? Dad didn’t give me any specifics. Fuck, I should have done my homework before coming here.

Suddenly, a loud whistle pierces the night, and a voice booms from within the multitude.

"Royalty has arrived!"

The crowd erupts into cheers, and my breath gets caught in my throat as I turn my attention to the small group making their way to the center.

I first take in the two strikingly handsome guys that lead the small pack.

The one on the left is a lean, sun-kissed blonde, with muscles defined beneath his skin. Tattoos crawl up both his arms like intricate vines, hinting at a wilder side tamed by a perpetual, cheeky smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes.

.......

Beside him, a completely different kind of guy walks. He's bulky, a solid wall of muscle and bone, with short, dark hair that emphasizes the sharp angles of his jaw. Tattoos adorn his skin as well, though their style and placement speak of a different story than his blonde counterpart. Where the other's smile is teasing, his is more reserved, a hint of steel beneath the surface, promising a quiet intensity.

…….

Both of the guys are flanked by two strikingly beautiful girls who look to be around my age. Each is gorgeous in her own right, possessing a unique appeal that draws the eye.

On the right, a blonde, with long, wavy hair that seems to flow like liquid gold, catching the light with every slight movement. But it’s her smirk that throws me off, it's giving major "don't mess with me" vibes. And the hint of wickedness in her eyes suggests she’s accustomed to being the center of attention.

……

Opposite to her, walks a petite brunette, with dark, long hair that has streaks of vibrant red in it. Her beauty is softer, more delicate, which radiates a sweet, almost shy elegance. She offers genuine smiles to everyone, which makes me think that she’s more laid back than the other one.

…….

But it’s the figure behind them that completely steals my breath.

.....

There’s no mistaking him–He’s Ares Allister. The way he walks, the way he pulls everyone's attention makes me believe he’s the one I have been waiting for.

And to make things even more complicated—for me that is, he checks every single one of my fucking boxes–physical wise, I mean.

He’s tall, so fucking tall, maybe 6’5? And he has his hair pulled back into a short ponytail, which now that I look at it, I didn't know I was attracted to long hair guys, but it seems that I am. His high cheekbones and short, clean-shaven beard make him look like he's straight out of a modeling magazine. And from where I'm standing, he looks like he has colored eyes. I also quickly notice his tattoos, which cover every inch of visible skin, making me wonder how much more ink is under his clothes.

Fuck me. He has ‘’Bad Boy’’ energy written all over him.

And not to mention the way he moves around people, he does it with an effortless grace that makes him stand out even among the crowd of beautiful people.

I can’t deny the rush of adrenaline that runs through me as I continue to take in the sight of him. There’s an aura of danger surrounding him, but also something magnetic that draws everyone in–even me.

Holy fuck, I’m attracted to him.

Those feelings are asserted even more as he’s approached by a group of girls, which makes me feel a pang of jealousy rise within me.They touch his shoulders, and his chest as they lean in closer. And the most annoying thing of all, is that he lets them, throwing back his head in laughter, at something they said.

And then, he pulls a blonde closer by wrapping his big hand around her throat, and captures her lips in a kiss that leaves me not only breathless, but dumbfounded as well.

It’s not a chase kiss either, it’s passionate, urgent, and I feel a pang of something deep inside me, a mix of rage and sadness. Then, to make matters worse, he lets her go, but only to turn to the brunette on his other side, and kiss her as well.

“What the actual fuck? Doesn’t he have any consideration for the fact that he’s engaged?!” I whisper angrily to myself as the realization of his acts comes crashing down on me like a heavy lead. My fucking future husband is a complete man-whore.

I ball my fists at my sides, watching the scene unfold before me.The laughter, the music, the crackling fire—it all fades into the background as my focus narrows on Ares.

I watch as he continues to share saliva with other girls, and how they practically throw themselves at him, not even caring that he’s sharing, that he’s not claiming any of them.

And my father wants me to marry this person?! What a joke!

I haven’t even talked to him, and I’m already hating his guts. The lack of self respect and lack of disregard for me–his future wife, is too much to bear.

I curse under my breath, frustration taking over every cell of my body. I can’t continue watching this. I just can’t….if I do, I will do something that I will regret.

I turn around, determined to escape the scene that ignites a storm of emotions within me, when I collide with a solid body.

“Where do you think you’re going, gorgeous? The party is not over.”

TO BE CONTINUED.