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Chapter 20

Asher heard a very loud scream from inside the mansion, a voice very familiar to him. He didn’t think twice about running inside the mansion and fidgeted anxiously inside the elevator as it ascended.

The elevator dinged and he quickly made his way out to run to Alexia’s door and burst into her room. When he looked around, there were no signs of her, he turned to the bathroom and ran inside.

Asher was horrified of what he saw upon entering the bathroom. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to seeing blood— in fact, he could watch someone skin a person alive and not even flinch. But this was Alexia, not just someone.

Alexia laid unconscious on the cold tiles of the bathroom, blood gushing from her ears and pooling on either side of her head. Rage started to fill him, “That fucking asshole,” he mutters with his jaw clenched. He picks Alexia’s body up, carrying her bridal style, completely unfazed by the dripping blood.

Leaving her room, Asher storms into Dark’s room with a single push of his hand despite the door being locked. Dark stood there, zipping his pants and looking frustrated, with a stark naked red head on the floor. “Get the fuck out,” Asher sneers at the girl.

“Babe, aren’t you—” the red head said after musterinf up all the courage she had.

"No, get out,” Dark snaps at her.

The red head was intimidated and terrified at the same time— she was starting to doubt that her idea about trying to seduce the Nascency, which was such a great idea two hours ago as she watched him inside the Ace of Spades. Mid way through their intercourse, as he was fucking her brains out, he abruptly stopped. She didn’t know why, but there was a look on his face she couldn’t understand— an emotion. He seemed to be caught of gaurd right then, as he realized that she was there and immediately pushed her away after pulling out of her.

But god, that was amazing. She thought as she scrambled to her feet and started to dress herself, she couldn’t help but wonder what’s so important, even though the infamous Asher Dean Hanson has an unconscious girl in his arms with blood dripping from her ears. Asher Hanson and the Nascency looked almost... conflicted?

She shakes her head and hurries out of the room, God knows what they could do to her if she stayed any longer. It definitely wouldn’t be good.

After she hurriedly leaves the room, Asher quickly but carefully sets Alexia’s unconscious form to Dark’s bed. “What happened to her?” Dark asks with more emotions than Asher has ever seen him have, looking frustrated, worried, and even anxious.

But Asher was having none of it— he was mad, at his own best friend, because of this girl. This very girl who seems to mean more to him than she should.

“The hell should I know, why don’t you ask yourself?” Asher replies coldly, glaring at Dark. Dark lets out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair.

“Can’t you find out?”

Asher rolls his eyes at him, “Don’t you think I would have done that already if I could?” He sneers at Dark, undeniably annoyed.

But Dark looked so lost, staring at Alexia in his bed— not caring about his bed getting stained from the blood, all he wanted to know is why and how this happened to her.

“Ask your mother,” Asher says, giving in. It wasn’t always that he sees this somewhat vulnerable side of Dark.

But Dark snaps his head at Asher and scowls, “Fuck, no,” he grumbles. “You know what she’ll do when she finds out about this,” He adds, scoffing.

As Asher was about to contradict Dark’s remark, they notice something...

There was blood pooling on her chest, staining the white night gown that she had on. Their eyes widen, two very powerful men scared of what could happen to a girl. Dark rushes to her side and was about to rip the dress open but he pauses, turning to Asher, “Look away,” he growls.

Asher rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to protest but upon seeing the look in Dark’s eyes, he sighs and looks away.

A sound of cloth ripping echoes through the room which is followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Jesus Christ,” Dark hisses, his eyes darkening. “What the hell is this, why does it look familiar?” Dark mutters, it was a rhetorical question that was needed to be answered. Asher turns to face them the both of them.

He furrows his eyebrows in bewilderment from the moment he saw where the blood from her chest came from. A mark that seemed to have been engraved to her chest was outlined by thick red liquid, but that mark was so familiar to him— he couldn’t count how many times he’s seen that exact same mark. He turns to Dark, “You said that was a scar from your childhood, one you can’t remember,” he raises an eyebrow.

Dark could not believe it. Either way, he takes his handkerchief and dabs it on the mark, slightly cleaning the blood.

Asher shifts his gaze from the ′scar’ on Dark’s chest to Alexia’s. “Haven’t you been feeling something from that scar?” Asher asks him.

He contemplates before answering, “It’s been tingling since the moment I had with her in the event centre.”

There was a very familiar scar on Alexia’s chest, one that Dark always said that was a scar from when he was younger— that despite the two boys knowing each other since they were three, Dark just happens to suddenly have a weird scar on his chest without either of them knowing.

A scar that was formed into a curve and now continued by a newly engaved one just as Dark’s scar now, except, he wasn’t bleeding.

Asher clenches his fist, this wasn’t something he could find out simply by the flick of his wrist, but knew that the only ones who could possibly know is his parents or Dark’s parents.

And to Dark, his parents are always out of the options, his parents are never the option, he sworn that he would rather die than ask anything from them, than be at their mercy.

Asher on the other hand, both of his mother and father has died— and though Dark’s parents have been doing the most awful job at raising the both of them for the past ten years, they’ve been good to him when he and Dark was just a kid.

“Either you ask them or you stop doing all these shits that could might as well kill her,” he sneers before walking out Dark’s room with a thundering slam of the door.

"I want the search to stop,” Dark says, it was obvious from his tone that there were no room for arguments on the subject. He had made up his mind, and once he does, it’s never changing.

His father ignores him, despite knowing his son, “No,” he replies, and after a short pause, he turns his head from his food and to his only living son, “Unless you’ve found your Queen?” He suggests, raising an eyebrow ever so slowly as if challenging Dark.

The fork on his hand bends, his eyes blazing with hatred at the very man that was the reason of his existence. Dark walks out, once again, but not before loudly announcing disrespectfully to his own father, “and you call yourself an angel.”

Alexia wakes up to a room full of the most intoxicating yet familiar scent. She reaches to her ears and neck, the blood was gone. Sitting up from the bed, she looks around Dark’s room. How did she end up here?

Memories of what happened before she fainted in her bathroom comes back to her and looks down the bed she was currently tucked in. She gags, almost bile rising up her throat.

The door opens, Dark enters, looking forlorn. Alexia watches him struggle to remove his shoes and tie in frustration. That moment, her body had the mind of its own as she gets out of his bed, she didn’t even know that she was just in his shirt that reaches her mid thigh— maybe even higher.

Walking in front of the distressed man who was oblivious of her consciousness before she stood in front of him.

A small hand stops his frustrated actions, her hand wrapping around his that was struggling to let his tie loosen. Her big black eyes looking into him, almost piercing into his soul before shifting to his tie. Her delicate hands moves slowly, carefully, but surely as she loosens his tie and removes it from his neck. Then, she started to undo two of the first two buttons of his dress shirt, hoping it would let him breathe and calm down— at least even for a small amount.

When she’s done, she averts her attention back to his face, looking into his eyes and whatever expression that could give away any emotion that this mysterious man had at the moment.

She couldn’t find any.

“You should be in bed,” he whispers, looking back into her eyes. She shakes her head, thinking, I know.

His hand reached up to her face, cupping her cheeks. Her eyes close and leans in to his touch involuntarily. “I’m not going to kiss you, Alexia,” he whispers, looking at every inch of her face as if wanting to memorize her. “I don’t deserve that after what happened,” he continues, her eyes flutter open, meeting his intense stare.

They look into each other’s eyes, the time was ticking loudly as if taunting them, challenging them. Dark was doing his best, holding himself back.

But after a while, as they just stood there in each other’s presence. All walls that was built between them, hindering them, just seemed fall down and demolish to ruins.

“But I’m pretty selfish,” he mutters before crashing his lips against hers.


His mouth moves in sync with hers, claiming her lips. His lips, as soft as she always imagined they would be, her hands makes their way to his hair, grabbing unto it as he wraps his arm around her back to her waist, pulling her closer to him and caressing her cheek slowly.

There was only ever their presence with each other together with the pull that was in their chest, wanting to be closer to one another that they might mold into one.

Suddenly— they could see something, like they were taken into another world.

Alexia instinctively wraps her arms around the boy’s torso, burying her face in the boy’s chest. “My name is Alexia,” she mutters.

She didn’t think the little boy would hear her, but her name rolls off his tongue, “Alexia,” he whispers, tightening his grip around the little girl’s body. That moment, he imprinted in his mind, “Alexia is mine.”

Soft and passionate turning needy and wanting. She could barely breathe. He pulls away slightly, “And I want you all to myself...”

With that, he captures her lips once again, placing his lips to hers for a good couple of seconds before pulling away for the last time.

“You should have placed me somewhere else to sleep,” she whispers, hoping it would be loud enough for him to hear. There was it again, that tingle in their chest.

“Why?” Dark asks.

“Y-you, that bed is—” she involuntarily gags.

Catching on, he restricts himself from letting out a chuckle, “That bed right there, Alexia— is untained except for your blood,” he whispers to her ear. Her breath hitches, heart pounding and hands clammy. “All that bed ever had is me sleeping in it, and now, you slept in it too, aside from tainting the sheets with your blood, Alexia, that bed is as innocent as it can get,” he remarks before taking her chin in between his fingers and tilting it upwards, her gaze finally meeting his.

“You had sex with someone,” she states, looking into his eyes.

He sighs, “Yes, I did,” he answers her. Her heart breaks a little.

“And I’m not very proud of it,” he adds, never looking away from her. “But,” he starts, it’s as if she was melting in his mercy, the way he was looking at her was as though he loved her and she doesn’t think that her heart— that was hammering against her chest— could take it.

“I’ll tell you the truth, Princess— I acted impulsively, I was so... fucking mad... at you, that you lied to me,” he says, ”because of him,” his voice hardens, his eyes darkening, veins in his arms were becoming prominent as he hold the anger back.

In a matter of seconds, his expression softens again, “But if I had known what would happen...” he trails off, shaking his head before collecting himself and turning to Alexia once again, “You better rest,” he says.

And before she could even protest.

Dark was out of the door.

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