AUTHOR'S POV
"Where have you been?" 2am in the morning. A wife asking her husband. "I have called multiple times and you never answered any of my calls." Crossing her arms while confronting her husband. She knows where he has been, she just wants to know with who.
"I'm asking you a question! Where. have. you. been." The married man signed and climed up the stairs while taking off his shoes and shirt. Leaving them for her to pick them up. That'll at least keep her busy for a few minutes.
He takes a shower, then gets into the bed. The poor wife just joins him. 'She tells herself everyday that she just has to be patient, he's probably went through a lot and doesn't know how to open up'. 'He'll learn to love her.' Poor soul. He already has someone else in his mind.
2am at the Blackwoods home. A drunk Avery that could barely walk, walks into their room. A tired Logan sitting at the edge of the bed. He looks at his wife's drunken state. He isn't mad or disgusted, embarrassed or disrespected. He's just tired. He sees the hickey on her neck and that's what does it.
"What the fuck is that?" He questions as he gets up and trapped her against the door and him. She looks up at him unfazed. Asking about the hickey on her neck. Dark enough to go unnoticed.
"Just a bruise." A breath of alcohol hits Logan and his face changes into disgust. He steps back due to the stench she was emitting.
"The maid was right, you are still on the clock. Fucking disgusting." He turns around returning to bed.
"If you're disgusted by me why don't you divorce me?" Logan remains silent. "What? Cat got your tongue?"
"Must be why yours is always out for money." He retaliates back and covers himself with the bed sheets going back to sleep. Avery just rolls her eyes and goes to shower then joins him. They were both on their side of the bed.
The next morning arrives and Aliana was told what to do for her first day at work. She was introduced properly to the kids and then she took Emily to school and Jackson to Kindergarten. She fetched them afteschool. While she was playing with the kids in the backyard, she hears chatters coming from the kitchen then she gets called by Avery.
"VICTORIA!" She rushes in quickly since she's not in good terms with Avery already. After instructing Aliana on what to do. Alaina serves them their snacks the way Avery instructed. All 4 of them go to the backyards porch joining the children. Aliana stays in the kitchen, cleaning the mess she. A few minutes later, Ivan enters with a few dishes in his hands.
ALIANA'S POV
"You must be the new maid. Victoria, right?" Getting startled as I hear a rather unfamiliar yet a familiar voice. I turn around and there's Ivan, with dishes in his hand. I'm still shocked that his wife is Jessica. Out of all the people in the world, he chose Jessica.
"Yes. First day." Taking the dishes out of his hands, our fingers touching each other then I turned around going to the sink to wash the dishes.
"Welcome. Remember me?" He asks as he leans on the counter and crosses his arms. His dress shirt was folded on the arms showcasing his veiny, strong arms filled with tattoos. I turn around to face him. Not looking up to face him.
"Yes, you're the married man I met at the convenient store, Mr. Ivan." I formaly call him because, I don't want to mess with him. I'm here to destroy Avery, Logan and most importantly Jessica. I don't know this man and everything about him screams danger.
"Please, call me Ivan. Mr. makes me sound like my... (pauses for a brief moment) father." He dissociates for a millisecond which went unnoticed then his stoic empty eyes came back.
"Oh? And how is your father?" I innocently asked out of curiosity.
"Non-existent. So, Victoria..., what brings you to this... lovely family?"
"Just needed a job. This one paid well." Nervously responded. Fuck, he's so intimidating.
"I see..." I can feel his gaze intensifying but I never dared to look up.
"Why do you ask?" I look up meeting his gaze.
"Curiosity. You seem... familiar." Pushing himself off the counter and he starts to walk towards me. I look down immediately after he stands right in front of me.
My heart starts to race, not only because of this man but, because he might find out who I am and rants me out to his friends. I don't even know him
"Though, I would've instantly remembered a face like yours." He states as he tilts my head up to look at him with his pointing finger. I calmed down a little. Thankfully he doesn't know me either.
He leans in closer. I had no urge to push him away. I was frozen. He uses his thumb to rub my chin and he leans in, his lips a few millimeters from mine. I close my eyes unintentionally.
"Whats going on here?" Avery startles me and I turn my face to opposite direction of where she was standing. Ivan not bothered nor panicked, he remains in the same position. He's acting like he isn't married right now. I try to push him away but he won't budge. He finally steps back and looks at Avery.
He stares at her with what seemed like annoyance and he just passes by her and goes to the porch again, rejoining them. I have already ran up stairs avoiding any confrontations from Avery. She stares at me as I ran up the stairs. Her face void of emotions.
AUTHOR'S POV
"I'm not him!" A man screams as he gets punched in the face again. Hanging upside down with his hands tied up behind his back. He has been dangling upside down for the past 5 hours. He can't feel his lower body and he's loosing consciousness. His face and body is bruised and bloody from all the torture he has been getting. He gets punched harder in the stomach again. He reacts to the pain with a grunt.
"Then tell us who he is." The one doing the torturing questions. He has been sent to track down the mastermind behind the organization that had taken the lives of some of their members.
"I don't know him...I've only talked to him through a burner phone. (puking blood)" The poor man states. Weak and bruised. The torturer receives a text. He opens it and it was from his boss.
"The member in or near Ravenswood town go to house number 45 at Olive street. That's where the perpetrator is." The torturer goes there. Leaving the dangling man to die.
He immadiately drives there and he finds the house locked and dark. He was surprisingly near the perpetrators house. The house was small just like all the houses in the town. The door was made of old wood that was tired making it easy for him to break in. He holds his gun in his hands. The house was rather dark and dusty. Showcasing that no one had lived in the house for a long time.
Empty whiskey bottles and books lied on the coffee table. The man rummages through the books but finds nothing. He walks and goes straight for the bedroom. The bedroom door was open and it was empty. He tucks his gun in his pants and starts searching for any clues. He searches in the drawers, bed, and closet.
"Looking for something?" He freezes. He has tucked his gun away at the back of his pants and the man was behind him at the doorway of the bedroom. He's not sure whether the man is armed or not. Taking a risk. He quickly takes the gun in his pants, turns around and points it at him. The man raises his hands in the air. He wasn't armed but he wasn't scared or intimidated either.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" The man in the doorway questions.
"I don't think you're in the position to ask the questions here. So shut up and let me do the talking. Are you the Podzemny Gospodin?" He asks. Both men were the same height but one was scared. The man in the doorway smirks.
"I'm being called that now? That's cute." The man with the gun trembles but he still keeps his hand on the trigger. The man on the doorway steps closer. His face stoic, void of emotions or expressions. His voice now dark and low.
"What do you want?" That was enough to scare the man. Taking advantage, the man who was at the doorway suddenly, darted left – the gun fired, missing him by inches. He seized the moment, delivering a swift kick to the gunman's wrist, knocking the weapon loose. As it clattered to the ground, he grabbed the attacker's arm, twisting it behind his back. The perpetrator spun, but he anticipated the move, countering with a vicious elbow strike to his jaw. The gunman crumpled, unconscious. He stood over him, unscathed – his calm demeanor belied the deadly precision of his counterattack.
He took the gun on the floor and a bunch of pillows. He packed the pillows on his head and he fired the gun, ending the unconscious mans life. He takes what he came here for which was a briefcase hidden under the wooden floors under his bed and he leaves.