I stood there, feeling my feet rooted to the ground, and wondered, "Could this night get any worse?" Unfortunately, it did. I looked at Dustin, trying to keep the fear at bay. He stepped closer to me, pointing his staff in my direction, which made me tense up even more. But then he suggested we sit down on the nearby couch. He walked over to it with a smirk, and I followed him.
Marc sat next to me, while Dustin seated himself opposite me. "I am aware that you were friends with Dylan during your high school years," Dustin said in a cold tone. "I wouldn't necessarily call us friends. We were more like acquaintances if you want me to put it politely," I said, rubbing my thighs beneath the table. '' Have you been in contact with him since?'' Dustin inquired. '' No, fortunately not. '' I replied, maintaining eye contact with him. "Hey, check out this ID," he said to me. I grabbed it and took a look. It had my picture on it, but the name was all wrong—Joane Andrews.
Seriously, Joane? I don't think I look like Joane at all. Maybe more like Maddie or Kendall. Do you think I'll be able to get the job?" I asked, thinking that it was a pretty valid question to ask.
''Yes, without a doubt, I have the ID with me; you will get the paperwork when you return home''. He said this while taking an identity card out of his pocket.
In answer, I simply hummed and lost myself in meditation while staring at the whisky glass I was holding. This might go wrong—one careless misstep and I'm sure he'll kill me. And he will show no mercy if he discovers who I am.
I was abruptly brought back to reality by Dustin's icy "you are now free to go" statement. I took the card and nodded before leaving the club.
. As I stepped out into the cool night air, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered from my encounter with Dustin. The pulsing music and flashing lights of the club seemed like a distant memory as I made my way home, replaying the interaction in my mind.
The cars are dashing fast on the road. I turn on my phone, and somehow my wallpaper is changed, as well as all the apps inside, and then I remember Dustin's words that all my socials have been changed. When I opened Instagram, there were not any followers, and it was a private account with a separate user name.
I have a really bad feeling about all of this. The whole plan of becoming the secretary and trying to assassinate dear Mister Dylan Fynder sounds horrid.
he is not a child who is not aware of his surroundings I get it Dustin has tricks up his sleeve but Dylan is not a child play.
My hands started sweating a lot as I kept walking through the streets. The weight of my actions and the potential consequences began to sink in, making me question if I was truly capable of carrying out such a sinister plan.
When I arrived at my flat, I observed a pizza delivery man carrying a box of pizza. I approached him and stated that I hadn't placed a pizza order, to which he replied, "I know you didn't; these are all the documents you need." All I'm doing here is delivering them. After telling me, he gave me the envelope.
I nodded, picked up the letter, and entered my flat. I sat down on the couch and put those documents away.
I stared at the ceiling and thought to myself that this whole plan of me being another woman named Joane and playing a whole different personality might not be the hardest part but working as a secretary of the guy who haunts me in my dreams is certainly not what I signed up for as a slave for Marcs.
do they both realise that if they mess up with Dylan we will tear them both apart, I haven't heard much about him over the years only that he is a multi-billionaire and that his dad passed away a few years back. I wonder if that asshole is still the same rude, carefree and cocky. my blood had started to boil as I thought about him and the day when he humiliated me.
I never got to know the reason behind that maybe I was the poorest and easiest to prey upon. his whole group was powerful Miles Broody and Chase as well the three of them were given the silver spoon but not as same as Dylan.
Miles and I got on good terms after he helped me hit a target once about 7 months ago I had to lure a guy around to the alley where Marcs could have his way with him but when I entered the bar several days before the mission I had to meet up with marcs and there when I entered I saw miles the same eyes just taller and muscular I did not recognise him immediately but when marcs was talking to me he came closer to me.
I was wearing a silver dress and a face mask and my hair was tied up. Then Miles held my hand and looked into my eyes and said,'' It has been a long while ruth,'' I was a bit shocked to hear that he knew my name but I did not want to blow up my character as a hitwoman I said that,'' you might be mistaken I'm not the girl you are looking for,''
he said,'' I am not looking for you and that guy u were talking to mentioned it i just happened to hear it'' he smiled
then I asked him who he was and he told me that his name was Miles and at first I got scared for a moment his name did not have good memories I stepped back a bit but he told me that I did not need to worry he was harmful now and he doesn't mean to hurt me in any way now.
then he told me some information about the guy whom I had to lure out and he offered to help i was hesitant at first but then I agreed because two hands are better than one
and thankfully Miles was not a snake at that time and he helped me. so in total, it was good seeing Miles again.
If I do get the chance to kill Dylan and nothing comes up, despite the fear that I would be relieved to kill him for what he did to me, he will ruin me not only physically but mentally as well.
his laughs haunted me and kept me awake for nights i remember the whole time when I walked back to my house in pain and agony, when all his touches left shivers down my legs, my crying face my hopeless calls for help I would feel a sense of closure and justice if I were able to confront him and end the torment he caused me. The weight of his actions has stayed with me, but taking control of the situation would bring some peace to my mind.
His immature actions traumatized the innocent girl for the rest of her life, all she wanted was to learn and make her parents proud—but I suppose they also passed away.
I quickly fell asleep after wiping a single tear that had fallen from my eyes, praying that my dreams would not be plagued by memories of my horrific experiences. My heart was burdened by the memories, but I knew I had to find a way to get over them and go on.