Chapter 48

Y A S M E E N

I didn't know. I lied. I lied to Philip. I don't know what Elijah told him. I don't know what Marcus's true intentions were. I don't know if Philip was saying that to spite me but Marcus's reaction didn't help.

"You're quite obviously not his first choice", Philip's words ring in my ears. "Now that his boyfriend found a new toy, he needs something to keep him preoccupied too."

I think deep down inside, I knew I was a second choice. Obviously, I was the second choice. If he was ready to get over someone, the next would be the second choice for a bit until they build the relationship up to become the first choice but...

"Tell her how your initial plan was to mess with her because you were envious of her close relationship with Alejandro. How you thought you'd get to Alejandro by hurting her," Philip had said.

But did he truly want to hurt me because he couldn't bear my bond with Alejandro? Were his intentions evil to begin with?

If I die today, I want one last chance to ask Marcus, what am I to him? Did we ever have a chance or did he just feed into my dreams because he pitied me?

I wordlessly follow Aayan to wherever the hell he's leading me only because I'm being pushed in a wheelchair by one of Philip's men. I was given medical attention on Aayan's orders. A couple of minutes with the doctor gave me a short time to try to gather my thoughts as my wounds were tended to and I was given medicine to numb with the skin-tearing pain.

What is he going to say to me?

What will he do to me?

Do I have to mentally prepare for the worst?

Of course, I have to prepare for the worst. This man doesn't have a single good intention towards anyone, let alone me.

So, what are my options? I know for a fact that fighting Aayan back will be a hundred times harder with all the deep wounds that were inflicted upon me by Philip. I could've tried using my minimal karate knowledge but Philip made sure to cut precisely where I would be useless because I'm temporarily crippled until the meds kick in.

That motherfu—

Deep breath, I remind myself.

Another one of Philip's men opens a double door, leading us to a dimly lit bedroom where red curtains are drawn shut and silk sheets lay upon the bed. My heart drops to my stomach, I think I'm going to be sick.

"Yasmeen?" A voice calls out from the dark and I almost let out a sob from the familiarity of the tone.

"Marcus?" My voice cracks as I whip my head in the direction of the sound.

Marcus's arms and legs are bound by ropes instead of the chains that were used on him back in the room with Zara and Alejandro. He's been seated on the couch directly in front of the bed.

As the realization settles in, I almost throw up at the thought. Whatever Aayan plans on doing to me, he plans on making Marcus watch.

"You sick fucker," I gasp.

Aayan knows I connected two and two together because he flashes me a foul grin. "What? It's a win-win for you us, no?"

"Why in your sick mind do you think this is a win for me?" I ask, feeling appalled.

He raises a brow as if he truly doesn't understand. "I get to do whatever the hell I want with you while the bastard over there sits and watches hopelessly." Leaning over, he whispers, "I think he deserves to be tortured a little for how he treated you, don't you think?"

I shake my head aggressively. "No, Aayan. Please, I don't want this."

"If I remember correctly, you wanted me back in high school," he says as if the situation is still the same.

I scoff. "You fucking embarrassed me in front of so many people when you turned me down. But not only that, you shredded every ounce of confidence I had," I grit my teeth. "So, I'm sure you can figure that I'd rather be served your severed head on a silver platter rather than think of you romantically."

"Oh, but Yasmeen," his tone is creepily smooth. "What I want is for your pussy to be served to me in a silver platter. I want your body all to myself, whether you want it or not."

"Rape. That's rape, Aayan," I state clearly while not breaking our eye contact.

He only gives me a smirk. "I get what I want, I always have. You know that."

"You're a fucking pathetic excuse for a man," I chuckle darkly. "What? No girl willingly wants to sleep with you and it hurt your little ego, so you have to resort to rape? What else is little about you, Aayan?" My gaze intentionally falls on his crotch. "I'm sure about to find out."

"You ugly bitch!" He clenches his jaw and lashes out by grabbing me by my throat.

"Awe, did I remind you of your tiny insecurity?" My voice comes out rougher because of the way he's restricting my throat. "Poor baby. It's fine. This ugly bitch will try not to judge your tiny dick."

I hear a snort escape from Marcus's throat from the corner of the room.

Aayan's fingers tighten further around my throat and then he pulls me off of the wheelchair to throw me on the bed.

Panic begins to set in as I start to struggle against his grasp on my wrists that are pinned down. He hovers over me, taking both my wrists and pinning them above my head so he can take off his pants.

My eyes widen and I try to knee him where the sun doesn't shine but he holds me down with the weight of his legs.

"Aayan, get the fuck off of me!" I shout, struggling even more under him.

"What was it that your two-timing boyfriend said to me when we first met?" He pretends to recall a memory when he clearly still remembers. "Ah, yes. He told me to get out before he decided to not let me see him tomorrow. Wait till he finds out what I have in store for you, he would've wished he ended me that day."

"That offer still stands, bastard." Marcus's voice echoes through the room. "I'll fuck you up so badly, you'd wish that I killed you earlier."

Aayan only chuckles. "You would love to fuck me, wouldn't you?"

"Piss off!" Marcus yells. "What the fuck will you get out of taunting me? You think Philip will finally let you fuck his ass if you mess with us? You're his little bitch, aren't you?"

"Speaking of ass fucking, tell us, how did you enjoy your nights with Alejandro? How did you enjoy the nights by yourself when Zara took him away?" Aayan's easily ignores Marcus's comments because he knows he has the upper hand in this situation. "How many times did you feel the urge to shoot a bullet through Zara and Yasmeen's head because of how quickly they became the apple of Alejandro's eyes? How many times did you imagine wrapping your hands around Yasmeen's throat to make her disappear?"

I'm waiting for Marcus to deny it—any of the claims—but I'm only met with silence.

The silence only makes Aayan laugh harder. "See, my beautiful Yasmeen? Marcus isn't anything but a cold-hearted bastard. He loves nothing and no one besides bloodshed, violence, and the obvious Alejandro."

I relax against Aayan's grip and take a deep breath. I won't get anywhere by arguing or struggling against him. I have to think fast before he does serious damage.

I shrug my shoulders. "Whatever, it doesn't matter anymore. Do whatever the hell you want with me as long as you promise me I'll get out of here alive."

Aayan's expression cracks into a huge, revolting smile. He thinks he's won, he thinks I've finally succumbed to the chaos ensuing around me.

"Now, that's a good girl," he draws out his words, his index finger sliding down my jawline. His touch makes me flinch ever so slightly but I hold my body still.

Think. Think. Think.

"Yasmeen, don't fucking dare give into this creepy," Marcus pleads.

"Or what, Marcus? I've embarrassed myself enough because of you," annoyance slips into my tone. "I just want to get out of here alive and if it means letting this disgusting bastard to do what he wants to me, then so be it!"

"Yasmeen—"

"There's nothing left to me, Marcus. You took everything. I don't have my dignity, I don't have my happiness, I don't anything because I foolishly gave it all to you and never got anything in return. I just want to leave." I'm creating a scene to distract Aayan but the words are flowing too easily out of my mouth. Maybe because there's some truth to them.

"Oh, oh, oh. What do we have here?" Aayan smirks. "Yasmeen finally waking up from her daydream?"

"Shut it, Aayan. Just get it over with," I mumble.

"Don't worry, Marcus," Aayan says. "I'll make sure you don't get to see another tomorrow after what I do to her. But, please, enjoy the show while you're still alive and breathing. It is all happening because of you, our special guest."

Marcus sighs. "Whatever, fuck it. No point in hiding behind a mask when I'll die anyways."

"Oh?" Aayan tilts his head in amusement.

"Yasmeen, put that sharp tongue of yours to good use and put on a show, just like he asked. I want to join in after you've... given him the service he deserves." Marcus's words hold some kind of a... purpose, a meaning.

What is he trying to say?

"Yes, Yasmeen. Listen to your boyfriend and put on a show for him with me."

I roll my eyes. "Hurry it up, then."

I feel something against my hip.

Put that sharp tongue of yours to good use, Marcus's words repeat in my mind.

Oh, I see.

I try to move my legs to see how much mobility I have in them and realize that the medicine has started working because my legs only have a lingering pain rather than anything intense.

Perfect.

I've already relaxed myself, placing a hand against Aayan's cheek. I pull him closer, near enough for me to access his neck. I trace a gentle line down his throat, making his knees give out for a second. His hand grips my hip roughly, now letting himself ease completely with me.

My other hand snakes near my own hip, sliding it into my dress's pocket, unsheathing the dagger Marcus had secretly slipped into my pocket right before we were chained up.

"Let the show begin," I smile, my heart pounding against my chest.

I pull out the dagger, slashing it across Aayan's throat while using my foot to push him away from me.

A gush of blood splatters across my face and chest as he falls back, grabbing a hold of his own throat while gasping in pain.

He's in absolute, utter shock. Just as a should be. Bastard.

I roll off of the bed and bolt towards Marcus. I use the bloodied dagger to cut the ropes around his wrists and ankles. The dagger slips from my grasp a couple of times from being drenched in Aayan's blood.

But the second Marcus is free from all restraints, he pulls me into his chest, holding me as if he was about to lose me. And he might've lost me if I didn't understand what he meant when he told me to use my sharp tongue. He managed to discretely remind me to use the dagger that I had completely forgotten about.

"I thought you wouldn't have understood," he says with relief.

"I almost didn't until I felt the hilt of the handle against my hip," I smile almost proudly. "Now, I think you have a business to finish?"

He looks down at the dagger in my hand and takes it without another thought. His expression changes completely from relief to frantic bloodlust. The muscles on his body flex, making the angry veins on his arms look much more visible. There's only one purpose in his eyes: Aayan's brutal death.

He looks back at me as if to ask for permission and I nod, "Finish that fucker."

Marcus walks towards Aayan, who's still struggling to find his footing. He kicks Aayan down, and he falls on his back still gasping for air. Marcus presses his feet on his chest, making Aayan choke out more blood.

He takes the knife and stabs it into Aayan's arm, dragging it upwards through his skin.

"This is for touching her using your filthy hands."

Aayan makes a blood-curdling cry and I look away for a second from the gruesome sight. I take a deep breath and turn towards them again. He takes the sharp object and drags it upwards through Aayan's left leg.

"This is for holding her down with your knees."

He pulls the knife upwards, closer to Aayan's crotch and my eyes widen. The dagger takes a plunge right in between Aayan's legs and I almost let out a scream myself.

"This," Marcus begins with clear violence raging in his voice, "is for attempting to rape her, you fucking coward."

Aayan screams out in skin-curling agony, writhing brutally on the floor. He's trying to call for someone but for obvious reasons, his voice isn't loud enough. He won't last another minute, he'll die. The men outside are probably assuming the screams are coming from either me or Marcus.

"That's enough, Marcus," I slowly say but Marcus is lost in his desire for violence and blood.

I take a step back, fear of his uncontrollable rage sets me off.

"Marcus..." I try a little louder but with no luck.

"I said I'd cut you up piece by piece. I'll slice every inch of your skin and set it on fire," Marcus almost grins manically. "I'll make sure you feel every fucking inch of the pain. You'll die on my terms, you fucking bastard."

However, instead of begging for his life, Aayan flashes a smile, bearing his dark red teeth. "You've... already lost, Marcus," his voice is extremely strained. "Yasmeen... she's afraid... of you..."

Marcus whips his head at me and I unconsciously take another step back, the couch digging into my back. He looks murderous, vicious, and extremely bloodthirsty. Blood is splattered across his face, the grin on his face slowly turning into a frown as he notices me shaking.

"I win," Aayan uses the last bit of his strength on those final words before closing his eyes.

Marcus quickly turns back to him, yelling in a deep animalistic manner. "Fuck you! Wake the fuck up! I'm not fucking done with you, motherfucker!"

Marcus stabs him repeatedly out of the pure rage of hearing those last words from Aayan. He stabs Aayan over. And over. And over again.

"Marcus, stop..." I say carefully. "He's dead."

I've seen him like this, I've seen him in a state where he looks like there's not one fragment of humanity left in him. It terrifies me because I don't know if he sees anything but red in that state. I don't know if I spook him by being loud, he'll charge toward me with the dagger instead. I don't know.

But he doesn't stop. He's stabbed Aayan enough times to the point where the internal organs of his body become visible to the eye.

"Marcus, you're either going to stop or I'll—"

"Or you'll what, Yasmeen?" His voice is surprisingly steady.

I shut my mouth faster than I can blink.

He stands up, rubbing the blood off of his hands against his pants. He walks toward me with unknown intent in his eyes and I let out a small, inaudible noise. My back is pressed against the cold wall now and I'm truly afraid for a moment.

He balls his hand into a fist and hits the wall above my head, making me flinch.

"Do I frighten you, my little dove?" His tone is low, deep.

A chill runs down my spine and I don't dare to meet his eyes because my legs might give away.

"No," I lie. "You were just losing control and it was taking up time. We have to go."

"You're lying!" He raises his voice, making me flinch. "You're lying..." He repeats again, tipping his head down in defeat.

With a sharp intake of breath, I carefully rest my forehead against his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"Tell me, how many times did you think about putting a bullet through my head? How many times did you want to wrap your hands around my throat till I stopped breathing?"

He holds me tightly against him, his heartbeat too calm for what he just did.

He nuzzles his head against the top of my head, before whispering, "Too many times, too many to count."

I let a tear slip out as I grip his shirt tighter from my inability to hold in my sobs any longer.

"I couldn't keep the sound of your laughter out of my head, I couldn't stop picturing your smiles, I couldn't stop thinking of the way my skin burned with desire every time we touched. I couldn't stop thinking about you," he says. "It was making me unhinged. I couldn't focus on anything. And the only way I could possibly think of ending the madness was trying to kill you because that is the only way I have always dealt with problems—a simple bullet to the head, a knife through the chest—ending my problems as simply as they began."

I hold his hand—the one still gripping the dagger—and hold it against my throat. "You can still do it, you can still end all your problems with a simple swipe of the tip against my throat or—" I drag the dagger down to my chest, against my heart, "—plunge this right into my chest."

He only chuckles sadly, dropping the weapon on the ground.

He grabs my chin and lifts it so our eyes would meet. "If I do that, my little dove, I'll follow right after because I can't imagine living in a world without you in it."

I pull him closer until our lips are inches apart. "Choose me," I said. "Choose me, Marcus. Please."

But it wasn't that easy for him. It's not like I'm asking him to pick between apples or oranges, black or white, night or day, winter or summer.

No, I was asking him to choose between someone he loves or someone he needs, someone he wants to kiss or someone he'd give anything to sleep with one last time, someone who makes him smile or someone who was his everything.

And when I asked him to choose me or Alejandro, he kisses me instead—a deep, passionate, and hungry kiss. His hands grip my waist tighter as he moans into my mouth when my hands rest on his lower torso, itching to just let him have me. Seeing that this might be our last moments together, I'm willing to let him consume me, body and soul because I want to hold onto this—hold onto us, just a little more longer.

However, the answer is clear as the stars on a cloudless night because I'm the one he loves, I'm the one he wants to kiss, and I'm the one who makes him smile. My heart cracks open from the center as realization settles into the depths of my despairing soul. I'm the one he loves so could only mean one thing: Alejandro is the one he needs, Alejandro is the one he'd do anything to share one last moment within his bed, Alejandro is the one who's his everything.

I'm just someone he loved along the way because he didn't have a choice because he was lonely without the person he truly needed. After all, I was just forced into his life. I don't hold as much importance as Alejandro in Marcus's life and unfortunately, no matter how desperately I wish for this to be untrue, I will always be circumstantial love, a second choice, just someone he desires to soothe his empty heart but not someone he needs.

I can't imagine living in a world without you in it, he had said just moments ago.

Lies.

But he loves me.

But needs Alejandro more.

He doesn't need me.

He can live in a world without me in it.

He doesn't need me.

But he can't live in a world without Alejandro in it.

He doesn't need me.

I pull away from our kiss, my emotions empty, my heart broken.

"So, this is it..." my voice cracks. "Is this the end of our tragic story?"

He seems to have understood even before he kissed me that this is our end because even now, he couldn't choose me over Alejandro.

His silence is answered enough.

"Can I ask for one last favor?" I ask in an almost whisper. He only stares at me, his hand still resting on my cheek. "Can I hear you say, you love?"

His thumb brushes against my bottom lip. "I love you, Yasmeen," he says with absolute sincerity.

"But you need him," I say the unspoken words that were laying dormant between us.

"I'm sorry, my little dove," he apologizes while still caressing my face. "I'm sorry—"

"—that I wasn't enough," I finish his sentence for him as I lean my cheek further against his hand.

He won't ask me to stay because he knows it's unfair to me. It's unfair for me to stand by his side knowing everything I know.

A small part of me wishes that he asks me to stay anyways, for the sake of being selfish for the both of us. But he won't. Marcus is logical rather than emotional.

I feel my heart being ripped out of my chest, thrown to the ground, stabbed a million times, and torn into unmendable pieces. I guess that's what I get for loving without heeding to the consequences of falling for someone who refuses to leave his past behind.

I press a kiss against his neck, letting my lips linger for a moment longer and leaving one last kiss on his cheek. He shuts his eyes momentarily, soaking in the feeling of my lips against his skin, the sensation he'll never feel again.

"I, too, am sorry for falling in love with you," I say, giving him a small smile. "I guess we were doomed to begin with."

I bend down and grab the dagger, then hand it back to Marcus so we can prepare to head out.

"Let's hope Zara managed to hold up or else I might actually die of a heartbreak," I sigh, feeling a sharp pain in my chest. Even breathing hurts. "I just want to go home."

___

I really chose ✨violence✨and ✨depression✨for two chapters straight.

Again, I will not be accepting any responsibility for how this chapter impacts your mental health.👩🏽‍🦯 And I will also not be responsible for any of your therapy bills.