Chapter 21: ★Curiosity killed the cat★

    ~Chapter 21~

    "My eyes are up here, Slave" Mr. Salvatore’s voice low and husky as he spoke those words in a cocky, self-assured manner.

    Chills running down my spine, feeling his gaze fixed on me. My eyes snapped up to his face that I couldn’t quiet see as he was mostly standing in the darker part of the room, making it impossible for me to discern his features clearly.

    Clever, I so wanted to see his bare face as it wasn’t covered by the mask that was on my hand.

    "Snooping around someone’s property is illegal." He was amused, and it was painfully clear through his tone.

    I bit back my retort, the words; Killing someone is also illegal; wanted to shoot those out with fire, but I held my tongue.

    Narrowing my eyes, trying to see his face as he lazily dried his dripping hair with a towel, walking closer to me and I thought I would finally see his face.

    But ~no~ he was smart enough to hang the towel onto his head, using it to cover half his face.

    The gesture was casual, but I knew it was calculated. He was hiding something, and I was determined to uncover it.

    "I came to pick up the laundry." looking at him straight in the eyes, finding how to read his expression in this dark room. But he just smiled, his teeth shining an enigmatic smile that left me feeling uneasy and unsure.

    These few times we’d crossed paths, he’d been throwing me this sinister smirk, and it was getting to be too much.

    "This belongs to me," He snatched the mask out from my palm before I could drag it back. Turning away from me, he said, "The clothes are in the bathroom..."

    "Why do you wear a mask?" I blurted out, cutting him off. My curiosity getting the better of me. It was a mistake asking this kind of question, but I wanted to know.

    Curiosity killed the cat, -yeah sure- but this cat was ready to die.

    My heart leaped out as Mr. Salvatore snapped his head towards me, his eyes flashing with anger. He strode towards me with quick steps, his face twisted in a scowl. I’m dead.

    Harshly, he grasped me by my neck, in a tight grip, his fingers digging deep into my skin. Pulling my face closer to his, making me see the towel slide a little to see some part, but he was quickly out of my sight as he leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear.

    "You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, Slave," he hissed, my heart hammering my ribcage. "Me smirking at you doesn’t make you forget your damned place. Now, are you going to behave, or do we need to take this further?" He growled the threat loud and clear, leaving me looking straight at the bathroom door as he almost choked me to death. Lungs burning, panic setting in, can’t breathe, can’t breathe.

    "I’m... ah...sorry," I managed to choke out a strangled apology.

    "Good, Now fuck off." He sneered, letting me out of his death grip. I didn’t need to hear his words twice as I practically ran to the bathroom, opening the door and slamming it behind me.

    Leaning against it to catch my breath, relief flowing through my veins. Only then did I release the shaky breath I’d been holding onto.

    My hands trembling, raising them over to my neck, feeling the ache from Mr. Mask’s brutal grip, wincing and coughing from the tenderness of my bruised skin.

    Slowly, I pushed the sticky strands of my hair, clinging to my forehead, out of my face. Before taking another deep breath, calming my racing heart, and moving further into the bathroom.

    Scanning the room, only to see the blood-stained suit he wore littered on the floor, discarded like trash.

    Images of my tormentor’s wicked violence were fresh in my mind as I looked to the side to see a small laundry basket that was empty.

    And I took it, my hand shaking, ~Why?~ Still shaken slightly from that harsh treatment I faced. I began gathering the bloody clothes and carefully putting them into the basket.

    Doubtful these stains are fully going to be cleaned. Thinking to myself as I finished gathering the clothes and stood up straight, back aching slightly from bending over, before walking to the sink to observe my neck, through the mirror hanging above it.

    The room’s lighting overhead gave me a way to see how the finger-shaped bruises on my neck stood out like a glare.

    You can’t go a day without getting a bruise, can you? Mentally scolding my ignorant self. My eyes wandered to the sink, and I got the shock of my life.

    God, My stomach churns with looking at it. A severed finger lay on the porcelain, still having a golden ring on it.

    Very disgusting seeing something like this, my vision blurring at the edges as I felt lightheaded.

    This was...this was inhuman. I had thought I was prepared for the worst, but this...this was something else entirely. Not expecting to see something so gruesome, so blatant, making me recoil, refusing to process the image.

    Head, now finger, is he an animal? Quickly, I picked up the laundry basket, shaking slightly as I grasped the wicker handle.

    The finger was none of my business, and I didn’t have the stomach to confront the reality of what I had just seen.

    Pushing aside my thoughts before opening the door, eager to escape the bathroom and the horrors it contained.

    Walking into the bedroom, finding the monster sitting on his bed, his back against the headboard as he leaned on the other side, a laptop in front of him, illuminating the mask that was on his face now.

    I bet he specifically wore it so I wouldn’t be able to see that ugly face of his. But I didn’t care; I just wanted to get out of there. I walked out towards the door to leave, but his voice followed me, stopping me in my tracks, saying, "Discard them into the trash." His tone detached, giving instructions to his servant. What a heartless soul he was. I gave him the bombastic side eyes.

    So, the devil didn’t need his bloody clothes to be washed anymore? Why hadn’t he discarded them himself? Or he intentionally ordered me to come pick up his laundry, just to assert his control?

    And then there was the finger. Right now, I was convinced he’d deliberately left that disgusting thing in the sink for me to find, just to scare me. It was a cruel, twisted move, designed to intimidate and unsettle me. This man was playing with my mental health.

    Very evil.

    Meekly, I replied, "Okay," keeping my tone neutral, before pushing myself out the door. I couldn’t wait to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the bedroom and the monster who lurked within.

    ★★★

    Thank you all for reading my book so far, please comment so I know what is my mistake.

    quick question; is the story dark enough or should I turn it up. Hehehe