"I'm willing to try another way. That is, if I get by another day."

—Try Tonight, Lana

I didn't know how long I passed out, but the moment I gained consciousness, Edward was nowhere to be found. My head was dizzy as hell and I suddenly felt cold from head to toe. Visual memories about last night were automatically played, making me feel sicker than I already was.

Fuck.

Did last night really happen?

A wave of nausea started to come just thinking about the probability. And it was enough to get me sprint toward the adjoined bathroom and empty the content of my stomach. Damn it, what the hell had happened? I didn't even remember it. Could it be true? Or was it just the drug? I admitted I had experienced it. Popping some ecstasies and I could be having orgasms just by looking at the cute guy at the party.

The difference was, back then, I didn't even have a slight care about it.

I washed my face and stared at my pale reflection in the mirror. Those scenes in my head didn't stop, though, and it was only making me feel more disgusted with myself.

God, I hated him.

I mean, why? Why he had to do that? Why did he drug me? Did I do something wrong? Did I upset him that much?

I felt so angry and helpless. There was nothing I could do to fix this situation and I couldn't get away from here either. Damn it. Why Jacob had to drag me along into his grave? Why me for fucks sake? I sat on the cold bathroom floor and hugged my knees, unconsciously crying, letting out all the frustration and anger. I cried so hard for only God knows how long, releasing all the confusion and disappointment that had been held for a couple of days. Every single emotion was poured to free the burden in my chest.

Next thing I knew was my eyes were puffy, my head hurt and my body was all tired.

As if my luck couldn't get worse, the devil itself chose that moment to open the bathroom door and watched my downfall. He was standing there in his usual nice suit while I was a crazy mess on the floor.

His lips were curled up into that signature annoying smirk, looking amused as ever.

I wouldn't lie I wanted to cry harder.

This was so humiliating.

I looked away first, but I could tell his eyes were still on me. The man didn't do anything else. He was just standing there and staring.

His gaze made my skin crawl. And the way he was blocking the exit made me feel more helpless and trapped.

Was it also his intention?

The silence was uncomfortable as usual. I thought this was definitely his favorite part, a tricky way to intimidate people.

And I fell for it every single time.

"Did you sleep well?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow in suggestive way. I was kinda surprised he decided to end our mental war really soon. But of course, as soon as I heard his question, I knew where it was heading to. This was just how he played games, bringing it to the new level, trying to make me feel smaller and cornered.

"What do you want?" I bit back, out of the anger I had been holding the entire time. He had the guts to chuckle at my reaction, as if I just entertained him.

"Oh, so feisty this morning, aren't you?"

Was he serious right now?

I couldn't hold it back any longer. I lost my shit the moment I saw his amused face. My hands made a move by themselves, throwing everything on the countertop at him. A bottle of shampoo, body wash, even toothbrush. Anything. But unluckily for me, nothing hit the target. That famous quick instinct made him ready all the time. I wondered if he really ever let his guard down.

He made to dodge all of them effortlessly and I felt like I just made a fool of myself.

As if I wasn't humiliated enough…

The grip on my upper arms was expected as I was pulled roughly onto my feet by the time he took three long strides toward me. Those greens looked me dead in the eye. And I didn't have a choice but held my head high despite of the trace of tears on my cheeks. "You don't wanna start, bellissima." He coldly warned me.

At this point I got nothing to lose.

"Oh, well, let's cut the bullshit, shall we?" I snapped, making him flinch at the tone. Yeah, never heard anyone screaming at you before, your majesty? "What the fuck else do you want from me?!"

His response was far from my expectation. Never guessed he would grin evilly instead at my outburst.

"So, do you want to know, hmm?" he teased, shortening the gap between us. And once again I was trapped. Between his body and this wall behind me and this sick game he was playing. "How about I'm showing you…" he paused, only to lower his face to my eye level. "…bellissima?"

I had to be looking so pathetic right now.

"Didn't you take enough?" I replied, hating that I couldn't just skip the shaking part in my voice.

That wicked cynical smile appeared. I was already down looking at it alone. "Men are greedy motherfuckers, baby. Why just having one bite when you could have more?" he twirled my hair, tucking it behind my ear.

"You're sick." I spat, full of hatred and furry. Memory about last night came into my mind for countless times already. God, I hated him. I hated him so much.

"Aw, how cute. Where do my willing bellissima go right now?"

I didn't know how I did it, but I slapped him across his cheek. His face snapped to the side. My palm was even burning after the blow. But of course, it was worth it looking at how stunned he was at that sudden move. And it took longer than usual for him to gain his composure.

Still, by the time his jaw hardened, I knew he had decided to pay it back equally.

When he turned his face back at me, his cool and playful demeanor was gone, replaced by furry and back to his original psychotic behavior. He pulled me by my hair, dragging me across the bathroom and over the dirty bathtub, only stopped to turn the tap on. I watched the water fill it and wondered what he had in mind.

Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

He turned my head to his direction, never once loosened his hold in the process. "You always fucking test me." I grimaced at his dead tone and the look on his face. The man looked like he was ready to make me suffer.

The grip on my hair tightened as he brought me to my knees, then without mercy pushing my head into the now overflowing bathtub. I held my breath as long as I could while fighting against his grip. He pressed my head deeper to the bottom as I was struggling to breathe. When the water started to block my airway, he decided to pull my head out.

I gasped for air, taking all I could get before he dipped me back to the damned bathtub. I screamed and tried to break loose as best as the chance allowed, but he didn't stop.

He did this back and forth until I didn't have left energy to fight him anymore.

I just accepted it. And silently prayed that this psychotic monster would rot in hell. The one and only place he should be.

I was barely conscious as he decided to end my torture. My chest hurt and my throat was burning. I coughed so badly I felt like I was dying.

He tossed me on the floor like a fucking garbage. My vision was blurred and the ache all over my body was obvious.

Somehow, I knew he was still here. Just stood and stared. I could feel it. Those piercing eyes. The intense gaze. His mind was at chaos too. The darkness behind my eyelids made me see and acknowledge more. I wondered why he didn't throw me a cocky smirk. Or made a snide comment. Wasn't this what he wanted?

He took one, two, three steps. Away from me. The sound of his expensive shoes was ringing in my ears. Chill and shiver wrapped me tight. Numbness was my only company. And before he really left, I ffinally found my voice.

"Edward?" he stopped and glanced, taken aback that I was still conscious. Or that I dared to call him by name. But the acid tone was clear. And the other meanings behind it. My deep hatred. My upcoming revenge. I bet he could feel them too.

I blinked, opening my eyes. His was full of confusion. Furrowed eyebrows. I wondered why he was so quiet. So, I asked him. I asked the question that had haunted my mind since I laid here, on the cold floor.

"Are you satisfied?"

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