3. Destined to be lucky.

Elena.

I plastered myself against the wall in the bathroom praying that the footsteps on the ground were suddenly invisible to him and then I pressed both of my hands over my mouth.

I heard bare footsteps and a couple more grunts and to my horror, those sounds were getting closer to me.

Oh my! He must have sensed something.

I hoped that it was just my eyes and ears playing a trick on me and that I haven't been caught right now. There was total silence for seconds and I almost thought I had escaped being seen but that was clearly just a stupid wish because seconds later, the door ripped open and I came face to face with the a man.

The man was bare chested, at least from what I had deduced from the upper part of him which I was staring at.

And from his face alone, you could tell that he had the surge of power and authority.

However, he got better the more I looked. His rich blonde hair had tousled griminess which promised finesse. He had strong arched brows and eyelashes so thick, they could be illegal. He had distinct cheekbones and an angular jaw, his pale skin made him look devilishly handsome. His eyes were gazing into mine like he was looking far beyond the dirty hair and bruised face. I stood and stare back at his eyes that glimmered like the stars in the sky.

For seconds that seemed longer than that, we seemed to be frozen until he suddenly smirked, then walked into the same bathroom space with me and he was smart to make sure he stood at the exact entrance just so I could ever pass through, this left little room to no room between us.

And that was when I suddenly notice that he was stark naked and I jumped, frightened. I looked at the entrance again, wishing that I could somehow bypass him but it seemed impossible, I chose to look down at my feet instead.

"Look up!" He snapped, in such voice that scared me to the bones but I was too terrified to even raised my head up again so instead, I remained as I was as my red hair cascaded over my face even more.

He definitely wasn't taking no for an answer even if it was a mute one as he immediately forced my head up, as I looked up at him, I couldn't help but be focused on his eyes, which were darting back and fourth, shining in the room light.

His eyes were mesmerizing, they were deep and catastrophic, a vivid baby blue as a great body of water that softly melted into a milky green. This close, I could see the flecks of silver in his eyes. But there was something else in them, something glistening. Glistening like an old copper penny being examined in the warmth next to powerful flames that were licking the safety glass door of an old fireplace. They held secrets, the same way a pot holds layers of deep soil- cradling- because it is essential to keep the plant safe. The roots are held in place the same way his dark, liquidy eyes held so tightly onto his secrets.

And they looked deadly, as deadly as my father's. As cruel as my husband's. They seemed to mock me, to let me know that I had simply moved from frying pan to fire and it got tears to roll down my eyes.

I guess I've been destined to be unlucky.

Something flashed beneath the surface of his hardened expression and I hurried to investigate the sudden shift. It was too late, the emotion disappeared before I could identify it, like reaching desperately for an escaped balloon; the string dangling so tantalizingly close but the wind pushed it away and it's lost forever.

I watched as the whites in his eyes turned a pure black, and as his iris glowered red. Symbols, lines and dots formed in the iris, placed in a sort of manner, that or I was hallucinating again. His lethal stare felt painful and piercing, as if his glare was tearing my heart apart with a blinding red light.

And suddenly, he grabbed my neck with his strong hands, almost choking the life out of me, "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!" He roared.

He began to raise me up by his strong hands as I struggled to choke out something, any word at all but failed.

"Are you a spy sent in here? Or are you an assassin? Tell me what you're here for and who the hell you are before I snap your neck in half!" He thundered again.

But how could I answer his questions when he had his huge hands tightened on my fragile neck thus causing a great airflow restriction in my lungs.

Oh God. This man is really going to kill me!

But then, just when I thought this was really the end of me, he suddenly released me, causing me to drop 'thud' unto the bathroom floor.

I coughed repeatedly, trying to regain the lost air that I have been denied of. I shivered in terror, my distress likely evident on my face and the way I was trembling. I felt my pulse beating in my ears, blocking out all other sounds except my gasping breath. I felt myself growing colder under his gaze on me and I knew whatever I was to say at the moment had to be well thought of.

"I'm... I'm not a spy..." I choked out, paused to mirror his expression, then continued, "I'm not an assassin either, I... I... am an orphan who lives on the street since I was eighteen and I had been trafficked but... but... then I was able to escape. I saw your car where it was parked and I got in to escape the men that were after me." I explained even though they were all lies.

He gave a suspicious look that shows that he wasn't buying my bullshit but would love to see the end of it anyway, "why did you run from my men when you got out of the car booth then?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I wa... was scared. I thought I had managed to get myself into another worst situation and my first instinct was to run, they all looked dangerous and I feared for my life, I'm sorry." I said, wondering how I had even managed to come up with such story under the distress that I was in.

I had to lie. It was needed. My father was known all over this state, as much as he had connections everywhere, he also has a lot of enemies, which means I could either get returned right back to him or be killed just for being his daughter.

It was at this point and in this situation that I was grateful that he was not so public with me, its not an exaggeration if I say that a lot of people don't really know about me, I was not spoken about since my mother's death. It was rumored that a lot of outside people think I'm dead.

"What is your name?" He asked after studying me for some seconds.

"Elena sir. Elena Bianchi." I half-lied.

Again.