THE FIGHT

Did this moron lose his mind or what?


"You must be asleep if you think I would want a dickwhore like you near me. I don't care if you die and rot in that sleep or fantasy, but I need you to leave now. It is an unacceptable insolence to my fiance that I am even talking to you right now." I take a step to go get the door for him, but he grabs my hand roughly, pulling me back.

"You have screwed that jerk more than enough. I am taking you back by hook or by crook; you hear me?"

"You are a desperate, pathetic idiot to think that I would follow you. Let me go!" I order, but does he badge?


No! Pulls me to his face, bleeding all the hurt and anger in his system on me. "I cursed the day I met you, Ellie. You have ruined me. But I have been given a chance to fix my life, and you are the key. I will do whatever it takes to get my life back."

The world stops spinning. Everything stands still as his words echo in the room with taunting rebounds. What was that he just puked? He has been given a chance to redeem himself. And am I the key? Am I the bid? What the heck is he talking about now? Don't tell me my father made a deal with this one too.


"What exactly do you mean?" I mumble, wincing at the pain of his grip on my wrist.

He gives me a bittersweet smirk and scoffs, "You have no right to demand explanations. Just come with me nicely if you don't want a scandal!" He warns.

A scandal! I wouldn't want a freaking scandal in here, for goodness sake! But going with him? That is impossible! That would be making him and his accomplices win. I can never do that. I have not come this far just to end up losing. Never!

"Did my father send it to you?" I query.

"Enough with the questions, bitch! Just come with me nicely!"

I knew it! He is just another pawn that my father is using. What? He can't face me himself. He can only use these morons to drag me back. What happened to the great despotic Richard Bradley Riccaford, who faced his problems head-on? Why can't that man face me so that we can put an end to this because that will be the only way? Why is he being a coward, hiding behind these incompetent fools? At least he should do better, you know, like send a squadron of officers. What is this?

"I am going nowhere! Let me go, you filthy jerk!" I yell, just at the perfect time for the door to flow open, and an enraged beast in the name of Damian walks in, banging the door behind him with all the ounces of fury in him.

The two beasts stare at each other for a minute, and Damian's eyes fall to Leo's hold on me, and I see how they darken at this sight. Hell is about to break loose! I shudder but still manage to speak calmly to this moron, hoping that he drops whatever fuss that he brought and just leaves to save his ass. He is drunk, and I don't want to imagine what damage Damian can do to him in this state.

"I said I was not going anywhere, so let me go, Leo!" I yell between gritted teeth before this bomb goes off, but this jerk is adamant about playing high and mighty. He doesn't badge. He does not know what kind of hell he is in. Is he really this stupid to provoke a beast before him in this state?

His eyes remain on Damian. "Ooh, I see! The King of the oppressed is here. What? You want me to allow you to fuck her one more time before I take her away?" Damian snaps his eyes from Leo's tight grip on me and packs them to his face. 'I warned you, buddy, didn't I?" Leo mocks, and I wish he was in his right mind to see what kind of fire he is just playing with.

"I emphasize her words. She. is . going . nowhere! Let her go!" Damian authorizes, with his cold voice, walking to us, but instead, Leo's grip on me tightens, and I feel his painful fingerprints imprint on my skin.

I didn't mean to send an alarm to Damian that Leo was hurting me, but the pain was so much that I had to wince.

"Pleasure time is over, man! She is coming with me, and you better stay out of my fucking business if you know what is good for you!" Leo groans.

"She is my fucking business. So back off!" In a swift move, Damian throws a punch at Leo, hitting his face.

"Aah!" I let out a small groan as I stagger back, Leo's hand peeling off me while he staggers back from the impact of that punch.

With a swift and fluid motion, Leo launches himself towards Damian, his fist cutting through the air with lethal intent. But Damian is quicker, his reflexes honed from years of training, and he sidesteps the attack with effortless grace. In retaliation, Damian delivers a series of precise punches, each strike fueled by a potent mix of skill and pent-up frustration.

The force of Damian's blows sends Leo hurtling backward, crashing against the sturdy surface of my table with a resounding thud. The impact is jarring, causing my laptop to topple from its precarious perch and plummet to the unforgiving floor below, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room.

Leo's groans of pain mingle with the metallic tang of blood as it trickles from his broken nose, staining his once-pristine features crimson. Despite the agony wracking his body, he manages to prop himself up, his upper back coming to an abrupt rest against the pile of files scattered across the table, his legs dangling limply above the ground.