I could feel his intense stare gazing upon me, usually that would make one feel highly uncomfortable- but the fear this man struck upon a person was too high and too strong to allow other emotions to overtake it. I could honestly say that I was more grateful to still be alive and stared upon, then to be killed, tortured or played with.

Finally daring to meet his eyes, a smirk played upon his pale features- already recognising the terror within me- "Follow me" he said quietly, contrasting against his stern tone. Swallowing hard, I watched his broad body turn towards the door in the far left corner- I couldn't help but stare at his physique, everything about him was perfect… It wasn't fair, such a cruel- intelligent man being graced with such angelic looks. There was no doubt in my mind that he was the ultimate killer, almost like a snake; sly, sneaky and ready for the kill.

I had followed him for a good while until we reached another similar room, the only difference was there were less books and the marble table had changed from its original colour, to dark brown. Above the table sat three wine glasses, each filled with the same clear, transparent liquid that resembled water, "Sit." Tom ordered sternly, although the look on his face was soft- as if a facade or a disguise for his true emotions.

Nodding, I sat on the nearest chair- watching him sit opposite me. What were his motives? Were we going to be drinking alcohol and having a little chat? No of course not, it's the bloody Dark Lord, Lara.

"I want to play a game." He spoke softly, his posture ever so uptight and his dark piercing eyes staring into mine with a hidden threat.

"A game my Lord?" I repeated in confusion, a man like this wasn't supposed to play games! The only thing a man like this could have in mind is strip poker with a side of 'I'm going to skin your body'.

"Yes, a game." Tom said elegantly, eyes gazing towards the three glasses before flickering back up to me, "Two of these glasses are filled with poison and the other, water. If you are unlucky enough to drink the poison, your death will be slow but painless. Which means, you will not know whether you have drank it or not- and merely an hour later, you will be dead" he said almost lazily, as if disregarding my presence completely.

My entire body froze; I practically just walked into my death. My father practically forced me into my death bed- and all for what? To impress a foul, horrid man with no compassion or empathy, a narcissistic, big headed- "Miss Phillips. You will drink only one glass, and fate will decide whether you live or die." Tom interrupted my train of thoughts; I could feel my entire face redden from anger, the horror of perhaps dying.

But I didn't have a choice, I needed to drink one of them and if I didn't- my punishment would probably have been worse than death, "Yes, my Lord." I muttered quietly, eyes falling upon the drinks. My hand reached out, grabbing the furthest one on the right. As the neared to my mouth, a hesitant thought completely changed my mind. Quickly I grabbed the middle one, gulping it down immediately.

I couldn't taste anything, I couldn't tell if I actually just drank the poison or not. I gazed up to see a blank, unemotional look on Tom's face- as if he were waiting for me to speak, "My Lord- di-did I drink the poison?" I stuttered, afraid to even ask.

Leaning forward, I could tell Tom already had plans in mind. That he wasn't going to tell me- "If you wish to find out, you must earn the answer." He said quietly, unspoken terror striking his voice.

I gulped; my nerves were on edge just as my fear tipped over. But I needed to know, if I were to die- I wanted to be prepared, "How, my Lord?"

"Surprise me."