SAFE IN HIS DARKNESS

Emily Grayson's

As I stood in the elevator, staring at my own reflection in the polished metal surface, a wave of anxiety washed over me. It was hard not to feel unsettled and nervous, especially because Jack hadn't called me all day long. Our one-year anniversary was supposed to be a day of celebration and joy, a milestone in our relationship that we had both looked forward to, yet here I was, plagued by the thought that maybe he had simply forgotten. I stood at his workplace, ready to surprise him. A sweet gesture that I hoped would show him just how much he meant to me. Jack had recently been promoted as a manager at this company, a position he had worked incredibly hard for, and I wanted to make our anniversary special for him.

Holding a lunchbox in one hand and a carefully wrapped gift in the other, I couldn't shake off the feeling of apprehension. "Oh God," I muttered softly to myself, "I just hope he's not angry that I didn't warn him of my visit today." Jack was not fond of surprises, a quirk of his personality that I had come to accept, but despite knowing that, I still wanted to bring a spark of happiness to his busy day. As I noticed the elevator's numbers lighting up, my heart raced with each count-a countdown to floor seven, Jack's floor. When the doors finally opened, I stepped out, but as I surveyed the area, I realized that his secretary was absent from her desk. I didn't think much of it initially; perhaps she was on a break or had stepped out for a quick errand. Motivated by thoughts of Jack's potentially delighted reaction, I strode purposefully toward his office.

I had never been particularly fond of that secretary; she always seemed to radiate an air of superiority, giving me attitude whenever I encountered her. I couldn't quite understand what her problem was, but at that moment, I pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on surprising Jack. Without bothering to knock, I decided to simply push the door open, excitement bubbling within me.

What greeted me on the other side was a scene I never could have anticipated, one that would forever haunt my memories. Instead of the warm embrace and grateful smile I had envisioned, I found something entirely different: Jack's secretary, clad only in her bra, her shirt hiked up around her waist, was intimately positioned against Jack's body, who was standing behind her, engaging in an act far removed from any work-related discussion. My grip slackened, causing the gift in my hand and the lunchbox I had prepared to crash to the floor with a loud thud. The noise drew their attention, and at that moment, their eyes locked onto mine, filled with shock and disbelief.

"Oh Fuck no! Emily, This is not what you think, it is. Please let me explain.

I was in a state of utter panic, my heart racing with a mix of disbelief and betrayal. Without a second thought, I spun around and bolted toward the elevator, my mind racing as I desperately tried to escape the chaos behind me. Jack, who was still scrambling to put his clothes on, called out after me, his voice a jumbled mix of urgency and confusion.

"Emily, please stop! Let me explain!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the hallway.

I barely registered his pleas as I dove into the elevator, feeling my breath quicken. Just as the doors began to close, I caught a glimpse of Jack's frantic expression, the way he reached out in vain, still shouting my name. And then-click-the doors sealed shut, leaving me in a sterile metal box while his words faded away.

When I finally stepped out of the elevator and into the bustling lobby, I could feel the eyes of strangers on me. The heat of embarrassment washed over me, and I wiped the tears streaming down my cheeks, fully aware that my mascara had transformed my face into a smudged disaster. Overwhelmed by the weight of my emotions, I hurried out onto the street and waved down a taxi, eager to escape the judgmental stares.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally opened the door to my apartment and let myself in. The moment I crossed the threshold, all the pain that I had bottled up exploded inside me. I collapsed onto the floor, anguish spilling out in the form of a heart-wrenching scream. How did everything go so horribly wrong? Was it truly so unreasonable to want to wait until marriage before having sex? Jack had always assured me that he understood, claiming that his love for me was strong enough to withstand the wait. But now, it felt like those reassurances had been nothing more than lies, deceitful fabrications to keep me complacent while he was unfaithfully entwined with his secretary all along.

I couldn't tell if it had been hours or mere minutes; the time slipped away from me as I sat on the cold floor of my living room, enveloped in a haze of tears. My heart felt as heavy as the weight of the world pressing down on me, each sob wracking my body and echoing in the emptiness around me. Eventually, the sound of a knock jolted me out of my sorrowful stupor. I had cried myself into an unsettling sleep, and as my bleary eyes fluttered open, I didn't even think to check who was at the door. I just instinctively pulled it wide, only to find Jack standing there, his expression a mix of concern and desperation.

Before I could regain my senses enough to close the door and protect myself from whatever he had come to say, Jack pushed his way inside uninvited. I instinctively recoiled, taking a step back to create some distance between us, desperately trying to shield myself from what I feared would be another wave of hurt.

"Emily, baby," he began, his tone laced with regret, "it's a mistake. Baby, I love you." His words hung in the air, and I felt a mixture of anger and disbeliefs fermenting inside me..

***EMILY GRAYSON'S ***

Jack, do you even know what today is?" I shot back, the bitterness evident in my voice.

His brow furrowed as he tilted his head, confusion swirling in his eyes. "It's our one-year anniversary in this relationship... I said

Fuck," he muttered, realization dawning on him. "Fuck I forgot.

Jack, just get out. It's over," I said, a resolute finality in my tone. My heart was breaking, but I couldn't allow myself to be swayed by his presence.

"Baby, you can't just end our relationship over a silly mistake," he insisted, his desperation morphing into a plea.

"Silly mistake? Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I exclaimed, feeling anger bubble up like lava ready to erupt. "You think cheating on me with your secretary is just a silly mistake? How could you even say that?" I yelled

He looked momentarily taken aback by my yell. Yes, I have never yelled at him before.

The shock was evident on his face. "Since when?" I countered, my voice rising again slightly.

"Since when have you been sleeping with your secretary?" I pressed, my voice a mixture of hurt and fury. It felt surreal that we were even having this conversation-like we were two strangers grappling with the fallout of hypocrisy and betrayal.

"Emily, please," he said, moving closer to me, his hands reaching out to cup my face as if he could erase the pain with a touch. "I swear to you, it won't happen again. It was a mistake."

I flinched at his touch, instinctively pulling away from his grip. "I don't want to hear it. Just open the door and leave," I told him, struggling to keep my voice steady, to not let the cracks of hurt show through.

"We are done," I stated, the finality of my words hanging heavily between us.

"Baby, I completely understand that you're feeling angry right now, and I recognize that your emotions are running high. Perhaps the best course of action is to allow you to rest and sleep it off. Let's take some time to cool down and revisit this conversation tomorrow, when you're feeling calmer and more at ease. Until then, take care of yourself. Goodnight, and I want you to know that I love you."

With a stunned expression etched on my face, I found myself watching him walk out of my life, leaving the door ajar as he made his quiet exit from my apartment. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, filling the space with an uncomfortable tension.

"Unbelievable. Rest and sleep it off." did he just fucking say that..

_____________________________

****ALEXANDER'S ANTONIO'S POV***

My hand rested under my chin, my fingers tapping my lip as I waited. I was getting more and more impatient by the second. I sat upright and rubbed my hands together, looking at the man across from me. His arms were bound tightly to the wooden chair he was forced into; his face is cut and bruised, with dried blood staining his dark tanned skin. I may have given him a slight beating. I wasn't afraid to get my hands dirty.

"I'm not going to ask again: what did you do with the money you stole?" I spoke slowly.

The man chuckled hoarsely. "Do you think I would tell you? I don't know where it is, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you." He looked at me with a mad glimmer in his eyes, a sight I did not like.

"Very well." I pulled out a gun from my belt and held it to the man's forehead. "I don't like repeating myself." I clicked the trigger, and he was instantly dead. His head hung to the side as blood poured out of the gaping hole in his skull. I placed the gun back in my belt and turned around to see Raphael staring at me, his brow raised.

"What are your plans now?" he inquired, absently rubbing the faint stubble lining his jaw, a nervous habit of his. I turned my gaze towards him, a playful smirk creeping onto my lips. "Now... let's head out and enjoy ourselves," I replied, the hint of mischief in my voice. With those words hanging in the air, I turned on my heels and made my way out of the dimly lit warehouse, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. I ambled towards my sleek black 2020 Toyota GR Supra sports car, its polished exterior gleaming under the flickering fluorescent lights of the parking lot. The sound of Raphael's chuckle followed me, echoing behind me, a sign of his approval and willingness to join in on the adventure.

Once inside the car, we settled into the luxurious leather seats, which wrapped around us like a warm embrace. I reached into the inner pocket of my tailored suit, withdrawing a pack of cigarettes.I pulled one from the pack and offered the remaining to Raphael, who eagerly took one for himself. With deft fingers, he produced a sleek lighter from his own pocket, igniting the small flame before bringing it to his cigarette, then returning the favor by lighting mine. The warm glow of the lighter illuminated our faces for a fleeting moment, capturing the camaraderie shared between us.

***ALEXANDER'S ANTONIO'S***

"What are you going to do about the money?" Raphael asked again, leaning back into the plush seat, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he exhaled a thin plume of smoke. I followed suit, letting out a calming breath as the rich aroma enveloped us. "I'll find it," I said, my confidence unwavering as I licked my lips and reclined back against the comforting leather, sinking into the moment. The car's interior was quiet, save for the soft crackle of our cigarettes and the distant hum of the city outside. Raphael's grin widened, and I could tell he had no doubt in my abilities. An understanding forged by our past experiences together. The thrill of the unknown ahead ignited a spark of exhilaration within me.

Raphael was my late Uncle James Mariano's son, my mother's brother, which makes him my cousin, his my best friend, second in command, and a skilled sharpshooter. He was only two years younger than I was. No one knew of his existence until his parents died, and my parents took him in. He was only ten years old then; I was twelve, and since then, we have been inseparable. I feel somewhat sorry for him. My parents are alive, and they give me their greatest legacy.

I am Alexander Antonio, the boss of the Italian Mafia and CEO of THE ANTONIO'S company.

The car soon stopped, and my door was opened by my guard. "Thank you, Sergio," I nodded as I stepped into the dark night. Sergio is my most loyal guard; he would take a bullet for me. I admire his skill, and I trust him with my life. Likewise, Raphael does too. He nodded back in response, his hand on the gun in his belt, looking around for any danger. I breathed in the cool air and smiled to myself.

"Oh shit," Raphael muttered as he rubbed his neck and tried to arrange his hair perfectly. I looked at what he saw: some ladies were looking our way. "Just don't steal all the beautiful ladies tonight, Alex," Raphael said.

"I smirked." I had the looks and the money; women practically fell to their knees for a one-night stand with me. So when they offered me their bodies, who am I to reject? I like sex.

Entering the club, followed by Raphael, Sergio, and the other two guards, I noticed it was crowded tonight. Moving to my VIP section, I nodded my head to Sergio; he knows what to do. I needed a quick fuck to clear my head. Raphael was already talking to a blonde girl on the dance floor.

Just then, a brunette caught my attention. She was sitting alone with about five empty shots in front of her. How the fuck did she maintain such long hair? She was wearing a very short red dress that looked like a second skin. Fuck that ass. my dick stirred, am hard, without even seeing her face.

I stood up to walk to her, right then Sergio came in with two ladies. "Boss, they're here," he said, I looked at the ladies with cake-like makeup. "You can have them, Sergio," I responded. I was more curious to see that lady face. "Boss, I thought you wanted to," cutting his sentence short. "I have changed my mind, Sergio. You can have them," I responded.

"Damn; fuck that ass!" I turned to see Raphael staring at the brunette. "I thought you were talking to the blondie over there," I said, looking at him with a dark look.

"Yeah. But I want this one," he said.

"Don't go there, Raphael; she's mine tonight," I said with authority.

"Yeah, yeah, you always get the hot ones. Do you know her?" he asked.

"I'm about to find out."

"See you when I see you," he said, and with that, he was out of my sight.

I finally walked over to her and took a seat beside her. "Two shots of vodka," I addressed the guy behind the counter. "Sure thing, boss," he nodded and poured them out.

I placed one in front of her. She had her head bent down, looking at her phone. She took the vodka and drank it without turning to look at me

"So, what makes a beautiful lady to drink in a bar full of bad people alone?"That got her attention; she turned to look at me.

"Ah, fuck my life." If I was hard before, now I am painfully hard. She's fucking beautiful-the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

"Are you a bad person?" she asked, looking at me with her beautiful brown eyes. I was so struck by her beauty that I was speechless. I have never been speechless in front of a lady before; I don't even know her name yet. I'm... I'm, hmmm, what the fuck? Now I'm stammering. Thank fuck Raphael and Sergio are not here; they would have laughed at their boss.

She's still looking at me, waiting for my reply.

But what she said next made me go mute:

"Can we fuck?"