OLEANDER
My life literally flashed before my eyes.
I froze, dagger held out in front of me, staring at the creature with wide eyes.
I might have stayed that way—paralyzed—if I hadn’t heard someone scream,
“Get down!”
The voice jolted me out of my trance.
Before I could move, the coyote lunged, swiping a paw toward me.
I slashed blindly, desperate.
A second later, something slammed into me from the side.
I was thrown several feet from the car.
I hit the asphalt hard, and my head cracked against it.
Pain exploded through my skull instantly.
A gasp flew past my lips.
I tried to move.
Tried to speak.
Tried to scream.
Nothing.
My limbs wouldn’t respond.
I just lay there, breath shallow, vision blurring, ears ringing—world spinning.
“Olea!”
A voice.
Distant.
Panicked.
Familiar.
Hex?
“Olea!”
That sounded like Dante.
But he’d never called me that before.
I parted my lips to respond, but nothing came.
Then everything faded.
“Forgive me, Black. I did everything I could…”
“Find Oleander Collins. Drag her to my feet. I shall have her pay the debt her father owed.”
“Your body is mine.”
“You’re a psycho!”
“I hope you rot in hell.”
“I’m in hell, Tesoro, and I can’t wait to drag you down that path with me.”
“Shut your legs again, I’ll make sure you don’t use them for a week.”
“Stand up, slut!”
I wheezed, jerking upright.
My face was drenched in sweat, and my entire body trembled.
My heart pounded violently in my chest as my eyes darted around the dimly lit room.
Where was I?
My thoughts spun, fragments of memory clashing in my mind.
But I didn’t get to think for long before a familiar voice cut through the silence.
“You’re awake.”
I froze.
That voice.
Slowly, I turned, and there he was.
Dante Corsetti.
My enemy.
He was sitting casually at the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, a cigar burning between his fingers.
Smoke curled around his face, casting him in a sinister glow.
“You…!” I growled, launching to my feet.
A sharp pain pierced my skull.
I groaned, clutching my head as the world tilted around me.
My legs nearly buckled, but I stumbled toward the wall, pressing my back against it, panting.
“Me?” Dante said with mock surprise, gesturing toward himself.
“Does that mean you remember everything?”
How could I forget him?
I stared down at myself, my fists clenched as my eyes burned with unshed tears.
I was his captive.
He had used me and stolen my innocence.
A shudder tore through my body as I sucked in a sharp breath, forcing the tears back.
I wouldn’t cry in front of him.
Not this man.
He would feed on my pain, thrive off my fear.
He wasn’t human, just a cruel, sadistic bastard who deserved nothing less than to rot six feet under.
“I see,” he said with a grin, rising to his feet.
“So I won’t have to beat the memory back into you after all. I guess you’re lucky.”
“Stay the hell away from me,” I whispered as he stepped closer.
Of course, he didn’t listen.
I pushed off from the wall, stumbling backward until I reached the far corner of the room.
Maybe it was a stupid move, but I’d rather hide in the shadows than stand under the light where I had to see his face—where he could see mine.
“Is that any way to thank the man who saved your life?” he asked.
“You slashed me with the dagger, remember? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that part already.”
I said nothing.
Words stuck in my throat like splinters.
The fear was too thick, the disgust too sharp.
He didn’t understand the depth of the damage he’d done.
Or maybe he did and simply didn’t care.
“The Collins have always been ungrateful,” he muttered, voice colder now.
“So I’m not surprised the only girl turned out just like the rest.”
Dante stood in front of me.
I didn’t bother to run from him. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
I had nowhere to go.
I slid down the length of the wall, pulling my knees to my chest.
“Just kill me,” I said, looking up at him with tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Why are you keeping me here just to torment me?”
Dante crouched in front of me and gripped my chin.
“Kill you when I am yet to do half the things I promised on your father’s grave?”
His face twisted with rage, and for a brief second, I thought he was going to hit me, but he didn’t.
He released my chin and straightened.
“Your father ruined me, Oleander. Your tears mean nothing to me. And I suggest you stop crying, because much more is going to happen to you. You will wish for death, but it will keep eluding you.”
He turned his back on me.
“Because I am your death, Oleander. I am the only one who decides when you die and when you don’t. In the meantime… enjoy.”
“Enjoy?!” I snapped in fury.
“I am not my father! He ruined you, but I didn’t. I didn’t even know who you were until you stepped into my life. I’ve never hurt anyone before. I shouldn’t be suffering for anyone’s sins!”
“Hm.” Dante nodded, starting to walk away.
But I wasn’t done.
“How would you feel if I were your sister?” I shouted after him.
“If I were Celina, how would you feel?!”
I glared at his back, wiping the tears angrily from my face.
“My sister?” Dante scoffed.
He turned to stare at me, eyes blazing.
“Celina can defend herself. She’s not some human weakling.”
“Besides, my enemies know better than to touch a hair on her head,” he grunted.
“Your enemies?” I asked in disbelief, rising to my feet, my legs trembling.
“You have enemies who wouldn’t dare touch your sister, but you could do this to someone else’s daughter?!”
What stupid logic was running through his damned brain?
He shrugged.
“I can because I can. Besides, your father stole something precious from me, and I am returning the favor. So when you see him in the afterlife, make sure you tell him all the things I did to you. Don’t hold back, sweetheart.”
“Ciao,” he waved, turning toward the door.
“I hate you!”
Dante stopped by the door.
“You’ve said that countless times. Of course, you hate me, Oleander. Take a number. I have quite a enemies. You can join the queue,” he grinned.
God, how could he be this attractive and wicked at the same time?
A lot of resources had been wasted to make him look this good.
It would have been better spent on someone else.
Then my stomach chose the moment to disrupt the tension in the room.
It grumbled loudly.
I winced, clutching it.
But Dante heard it.
“You can hate me, but I hope you don’t hate my food. I’m inviting you to brunch. Wear something nice.” He left the room.
I’d rather starve myself to death than eat his food.
I let out a staggering breath and once again slid down the length of the wall, then began to sob.
I cried until I was exhausted and eventually dozed off.