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   Chapter 67 Sixty seven

Romira By Akanksha Jaiswal Characters: 9423

Updated: 2019-11-21 22:57

Third person


He fucked up.

Like always.

Staring at the girl sitting opposite of him, he tries to find his girl in her because she is not really his girl at the moment. She has turned herself into someone else just to prove him she's not naive or embarrassing like he thinks. She couldn't be more far from the truth and there is no one else but he is at fault. He is the one who drove her to do something he knows she'd never do.

His Ray is just too pure for a fucked up place like this, too pure for him and his dark word. Anyone in this fucking room can see just how special and unique she is.

And fucking hell she is his!

He aches to go there and pull her in his arm, away from all the prying eyes. He wants her captivating eyes, her attention solely on him. He craves for her body, her heart and her soul to entirely belong to him and he won't settle for anything less. He wants to take care of her, be everything she needs but seeing her sad is like bullets piercing his black soul.

He deserves to bleed for being the reason of her sadness. It's as if every time he tries to keep her away from his darkness he ends up hurting her.

What the fuck is he supposed to do?

His body trembles with uncontrollable fury when the fucker touches her. He wants nothing more than to break every single bone of the bastard's body. His beast trapped inside is crawling the wall of its cage, fighting to take control and show everyone who she belongs to. He so fucking wants to give in and let the beast take over just to teach every fucker eying his girl a lesson to remember for lifetime.

But he also knows that, that would scare his girl away, for good and he can't let that happen.


So using every ounce of force he tries to subside the beast. He struggles, it seems an almost impossible task to push back the beast when it comes to his girl. The beast suddenly silences for a moment after seeing his girl cringing away from that fucker's filthy touch. It gives him a great pleasure that she is repulsed by any other males advances.

Though he knows his beast is silent but it only needs one wrong move and no one, not even him, would be able to control it. Like a storm, it will not stop until it has its beauty back in his arm.

Until it claims her back!




For next few minutes my mind is fuzzy from the newfound revelation. With alcohol running in my system I struggle to work out all the information, Adam has just provided me. The rest of room turns blur and I find myself in a dark, empty place.

I go over all the points to get everything straight.

One, he owns this place.

Two, he has a private room here.

Three, he probably used that room to fuck a new girl every time.

I don't know how this all should make me feel but I k

, shaking me.

For some reason all my heartache, sickness and pain transforms into an irrational anger toward him. I guess I'm still pretty drunk.

I shove him away, shouting, "You and your flashy past!"

This time I'm certain I see hurt in his enigmatic eyes before he could hide them.

I don't wait to dwell on it or my words and move past him toward dance floor. I'm still that mirror girl until tonight so why not enjoy it.

'Cheap Thrills' start blasting and my legs itself starts moving before my whole is shaking with the every beat of rocking song. With a heart aching and head spinning I let go of all my rationality and start dancing all my worry off.

A rough hand suddenly grips my waist, pulling my body toward a hard body and starts grinding.

What the hell?

Before I could even blink my eyes the unwanted heat is forcefully removed from my back, followed by loud collected gasp of horror.

The music goes off and on turning around I find a guy on the middle of the dance floor. I gasp when I see his nose bleeding profusely. The guy doesn't even get a chance to stand up and is attacked by someone.

I jump back seeing that someone is Romero.

My Romero.

He is punching and kicking the guy like manic, the guy couldn't even defend himself against his attack. His face is morphed in a rage I've never witnessed before.


He is not my Romero, he is someone else.

He is King.

Slade, Luke and Lucas go to stop him but they also struggle to get a hold of him.


The other guy is not even reacting but that does not stop him, he continues with torture.

It's not until Slade says something in his ear, his fist halts on mid stride.

Then his almost black eyes snap toward me.

I flinch, unable to digest the foreign look in them.

It is lust of violence!

A thirst of blood!

A hunger of a beast!

* * * * *

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