God knows I'm trying. He knows that I'm tired. My teary eyes always look to the skies with helplessness, wondering when or if my pain will end.

~

I hum to some music while pouring some coffee into my cup, a plate of cake set in front of me.

It's three in the morning and I couldn't help but feel hungry after putting Serena to sleep.

The thought of Serena makes me sigh, closing my eyes as I tighten my hand around the cup.

Serena cried a lot today. I could tell that she had a lot of things to let go of.

She was caged, forcing herself to be strong; when in reality, she was tired and in pain.

Serena, my beautiful best friend and sister, has wounds that were caused by someone that was suppose to protect her.

Dave created injuries that left scars.

He created wounds that he was not satisfied with, and that is why he kept scratching them, making them more severe.

Now I'm no saint, I'm far from being one. But I know that when I have a child I will never hurt him or her.

A child, whether born out of wedlock or in a marriage is not suppose to be treated like a mistake.

No one forced Dave to open his zipper and no one told him to rape someone's child.

Yes, Dave is a rapist. He raped Serena's mother and then when she fell pregnant, he promised to kill her after she gave birth.

Serena's mother managed to run away a few days after Serena's birth, leaving Serena in the cell she was kept in.

Nothing stays hidden in this big world of ours and almost everyone knows what goes on in everyone's life.

The maids are the news reporters and when they meet up they begin discussing everything about their employers, and from there the news begins spreading like a wildfire.

However, Dave is always in someone's mouth. He has done a lot of wicked things to different people, both young and old.

And as for Serena's mother, I can't really judge her. I just feel sad, because she left her daughter with such a man.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I met Serena, but I know that she doesn't deserve what she passes through.

She's good hearted and so brave, and I know that we would have met in different circumstances.

I don't know if we would have been friends, but I do know that what is meant to be will always happen, even if it is done differently.

"Vivian?" I hear my father's voice, startling me.

I immediately place the coffee mug down, turning to look at my father, who looks confused to see me.

"Papa?" I look at him with uncertainty, wondering why he is still up. "Why aren't you sleeping?" I question, watching as he turns on the kitchen lights, making my eyes hurt.

The lights were off because the moon was giving me all the light I needed.

I'm a lover of natural light. Bulbs and electricity, itself, makes my eyes hurt.

"Papa!" I shout, shielding my eyes from the light.

"Vivian." He says, his feet moving in my direction.

My eyes hurt as I open them, blinking multiple times till they begin to adjust to the light.

"What are you doing up at this time? In the dark for that matter," Dad questions, grabbing my cup of coffee, taking a sip from it.

"That's mine." I state, watching as he sits on my seat, eating my cake.

The man came in the kitchen just to eat my food, which is disrespectful to my hungry belly.

"And it's my house, and this is also bought with my money–"

"Which technically means it's mine as well." I interrupt him, feeling annoyed because I know that I have lost my food.

I adjust my glasses, grabbing another cup from the cupboards togther with the last slice of cake from the fridge.

I begin pouring the coffee in the cup, placing the cake far from Dad's reach.

The man seated in front of me, eating my food does not look like someone that installs fear in people.

He looks like a thief that woke up in the middle of the night to disturb the little peace I have.

"You didn't answer my question; why are you still up? Cause I know it isn't to eat," I mutter the last sentence, seating down next to him.

Dad never eats late, unless he didn't get to have his dinner, which is also very rare.

My father has made a schedule in his head. He has a specific time to eat, work and sleep. And he never changes his schedule unless he was doing something important.

"I was in an important meeting; I arrived a while back." He explains, and that is when I see that he is still in the clothes he left wearing.

"Oh... Was the meeting about Dave?" I ask to which he nods, taking a sip from his coffee, his stern eyes on me, making me fidget in my seat.

I don't know why, but his eyes make me feel guilty. I fear that he knows I was at the manor.

"Don't be silly, Viv. He would have scolded you when he arrived." My inner voice says, making me nod in agreement.

"How did it go?" I ask, masking ny guilty.

I'll act like I never went to the manor. It never happened.

"It was alright. We made a plan that will lure Dave out of hiding," Dad says, placing his now empty cup away.

My father begins explaining the plan to me, which makes me happy.

I heard most of the plan yesterday, and Dad has explained a few other things I never got to understand and hear.

I'm glad when he doesn't mention anything about my visit. Azrael must have kept his mouth shut.

"You should go sleep," I mutter, feeling sad for having cut our conversation short.

Dad keeps yawning every few seconds, which makes me feel like I am holding him back from his rest.

"Alright." He says, grabbing his cup, which he puts inside the sink.

"Have a good night, Papa... Love you," I say as I give him a hug, which he happily returns.

"Love you too, Princess... Have a good morning, and don't try to do what you did yesterday." He says, giving me a peck on my forehead.

His words register in my head moments after he leaves, making my mouth hung open.

Azrael snitched on me.

~

I pour my whiskey to the brim, feeling exhausted.

I just came back from the office, and my eyes ache to close, wanting to rest for a bit.

When I came back from the meeting, I went directly to the office, where I spent three whole hours.

I haven't had any sleep this week, and I can feel my body stiffen, my bones snapping with each step I take.

My ass meets the comfort of my couch, my hand clenching the bottle of whiskey while I gulp the poisonous liquid with little to no difficulty.

My throat burns, my body craving for more of the poison.

But unlike the first time, I drink straight from the bottle, loving the burning sensation I get from the whiskey.

I don't know why, but having something that hurts me gives me excitement.

My body craves intoxicating substances, wanting the thrill that follows after taking them.

My heart beats fast, wanting to feel like a whole different person; a person that can't express himself.

I'm suppose to be fearful. I'm suppose to be scaring people, installing neverending fear in their souls.

But I know that that's not me. I am not one for drama nor am I someone that likes hurting people.

I'm determined to help the people I lead. I know that they look up to me and everything I do, and I really don't want to lead them astray.

Being angry and dramatic isn't something that I want to show people in this world.

Yes, I know that people fear me because I am dangerous. And yes, I want them to fear me.

But never for pity issues.

A foolish leader will want to hurt his people, wanting them to be in misery.

And a wise leader will always want his people to be happy, to be joyful and for them to have peace.

My eyes begin closing, my lips parting as the half filled bottle slips from my hand, landing on the sofa besides me.

My lips part as I begin promising myself to rest for a minute, my breath steadying as the world around me becomes nothing but a myth.

I can feel someone's presence nearing the office, their silent footsteps hitting the floor with urgency.

My body is half conscious but I still manage to convince myself to wake up, especially when the door opens.

I confusingly look at the blurry looking Vivian, who has an angry scowl on her beautiful face, her hand folded against her beautifully filled chest.

"You're a snitch!" She accuses, making my hand move to my pounding head, a groan escaping my mouth as I regret drinking during the day.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I question, my vision getting a bit clear.

My eyes move from the floor, turning to look at Vivian, whose beautiful long legs are on full display, the orange maxi dress complimenting her skin tone.

My eyes linger a little bit on her chest area as my mind begins imagining things that I shouldn't be thinking of.

"A snitch and a pervert?" She snorts, ignoring my question as she holds a hand over her chest.

I roll my eyes when I hear her comment, forcing myself to stand up, walking to sit on my office chair, grabbing a bottle of water from my mini fridge.

Vivian must see that I am ignoring her, because she moves to stand in front of me, grabbing my laptop from the table.

"Why did you snitch on me?" She asks as she looks at me with anger in her eyes.

"First answer me; who let you in? And when did I snitch on you?" I question, placing my folded arms on the table, the only barrier between us.

"Seth let me in," She mutters through clenched teeth, glaring at me with disgust.

Seth knows how I feel about Vivian and he also knows that the girl hates me; she could be here to kill me.

I'll seriously deal with that idiot. After I deal with Vivian, though.

"And what did I do?" I question, placing a hand under my chin, my attention on her face, not wanting to look anywhere else.

I might get insulted for looking at her wrongly or worse, I might get kicked in the balls.

And I still want children.

"You told Dad that I was at the manor... You weren't supposed to tell anybody about that!" She yells, pacing in my line of vision, making my head ache.

"I never told your father anything," I tell her, standing up from my seat, walking to stand next to her.

"I'm not a snitch, baby girl," I place my finger at the corner of her lips, removing the lipstick stain that is at the corner.

I can feel her shiver when I place my fingertips on her lips, tracing them as I begin to wonder how they would feel against mine.

"I'm already in your bad books... I wouldn't want you to hate me more than you already do,"

"I don't hate you," Vivian says, pushing me away. "I dislike you."

Vivian is slim with curves in the right places, how she has managed to push me away is a mystery, though. Because I'm three times her weight.

"Isn't that the same thing?" I ask, pulling her closer to my body.

Her hands land on my shoulders as our chest collide.

I take a deep breath, inhaling her intoxicating lavender scent.

Vivian might be a savage, but she sure does smell perfect.

"No, it's not." She replies, trying to wiggle out of my arms.

I chuckle, loving the death glare she is giving me.

She looks cute when she's angry.

I let go of Vivian when I feel sudden pain.

I growl as my hand shooting out to touch my shin, which she just kicked with so much force.

"Never touch me without my permission, bitch." She huffs, rolling her eyes before leaving the room.

I watch her close the door, her combat boots hitting the floor angrily.

"Yep, she's perfect." I murmur, falling on my chair with a chuckle, my hand still touching my shin.

Hopefully, my Jewels are still very much intact.

Author's Note

Hello. It's me, I was lost but now I'm found in your reality... Or something like that.

How was the chapter? I like Vivian, she's perfect!

How are you? Could have updated sooner, but I was updating Destiny, another story of mine.

Be safe and happy ❤️