THREE DAYS LATER
With a tune on my lips and a twirl in my step, I make my way to the kitchen to whip up some chocolate chip cookies. The counter is littered with a few stray utensils, but I pay them no mind, for the melody that fills the air from my classical playlist far outshines any mess.
As I whisk away at the eggs with effortless grace, I tie up my hair in a messy bun, my white sweatshirt hugging my frame. A true baker’s outfit.
Lost in my baking haven, my phone’s ringing jolts me out of my reverie – the caller ID reads ‘Saint’. Untethering it from the counter, I answer.
‘Bonjour biche,’ a rich, velvety voice murmurs, sending shivers down my spine.
‘Hej kochanie,’ I answer, the sound of his chuckle causing my heart to flutter.
Every molecule of his being has a hypnotic hold on me.
‘How is my beautiful wife doing?’ he questions. ‘Well, your wife is baking some cookies,’ I tell him and he sighs.
‘Have I mentioned that you’re the most extraordinary baker in existence?
I’d do anything for those fresh, mouth-watering cookies right now.’ he laments, eliciting a light chuckle from me. ‘I’m flattered Saint. When you return, I’ll happily whip up another batch and serve them to you hot off the oven,’ I assure him as I expertly mix the eggs with other wet ingredients.
The tantalizing aroma of the dough diffuses through the kitchen, a delicious testament to my culinary prowess.
‘Well, I would love that very much but I’d prefer you bake with only an apron on and feed me while I fuck you on the kitchen counter.’ As he utters those words, I freeze, my cheeks ablaze with a surge of warmth that spreads deep into my body.
‘I’d appreciate you having your sex talk in the other room, Saint, I’m working here.’ As I listen to Abel’s grumblings echoing in the bellowing background, my chuckles escape with a sweet taste of blush.
In the midst of distant shuffles and the thud of a door shutting, he smoothly interrupts our conversation. ‘Ignore him. But let me continue my promise of how badly I want to fuck you while you innocently offer me your cookies…’
Despite being completely alone, an unsettling sense of unease washed over me. I couldn’t help but clasp my thighs together and nibble on my lower lip as his words sent my imagination into overdrive.
It hit me then – Nirali’s words had been eerily prophetic. My insatiable lust for Saint had transformed me into an absolute sex fiend. I craved him like nothing else. You do become a sex addict once you’re doing it with someone you can’t get enough off.
I can’t help but let out a mischievous laugh at the mere thought.
‘Well, if I may say, I’d love that very much. Can you imagine the heavenly aroma wafting from the kitchen as I stand, wearing nothing but an adorable apron? I’ll be perched on the kitchen counter with my legs wrapped around you, while you energetically thrust into me, all while I feed you piping-hot cookies fresh out of the oven.’ I taunt playfully, barely able to contain my excitement.’ I tease,
‘Fuck Irena are you trying to get my balls blue,’ I shrug, acknowledging that he can’t see me, and respond, ‘You started the conversation, I’m just assisting you in visualizing it.’
He groans, making me grin like a crazy person.
I gently set the bowl of ingredients down and saunter over to the cabinet, eagerly reaching for the sack of baking flour. As I measure out the perfect amount, a sultry voice breaks through the silence.
‘I miss you,’ he whispers, stirring up a flurry of butterflies in my stomach.
A smile spreads across my face as I respond, ‘I miss you too. Just two more days until you’re back in my arms.’
As I extracted the luscious bar of chocolate from the frosty fridge, I took an impulsive stride toward the counter, my fingers grazing over the shiny handles of the knife holder. My thoughts drifted briefly to a sizzling time here Saint used the knife on me. I shook my head and peeled away from the tantalizing reverie. Swiftly, I selected a different blade with a sleek steel handle, clearing my throat to banish any lingering diverting thoughts. With deft motions, I settled the rich bar of chocolate onto the smooth chopping board, ready to masterfully slice it into delectable pieces.
‘Oh, so you’ve been keeping track? I’m thrilled to devour in your cookies and you of course,’ he proclaims, and I can’t help but shake my head. ‘Psh, I’ve been having a blast while you were away,’ I fib.
‘Have you been pleasuring yourself?’ he asks, his voice tinged with a yearning that inflates my confidence. ‘Yes. Every night, I’ve sprawled out on the bed with my legs spread and fucked myself,’ I tease, and he lets out an agonized growl, an expletive slipping past his lips.
‘Do you hear that?’ I asked Saint, my tone laced with worry. His voice turned serious as he quizzed me, ‘Who do you think it is?’
I hastily dusted my fingers and laid the gleaming knife on the counter.
‘I have no idea,’ I replied, my heart pounding with uncertainty. ‘Are you expecting someone?’ He asks. ‘No.’
As I tug on the door handle, my heart plummets as I am met with a familiar set of piercing blue eyes. My uncle Krzysztof grins devilishly, clad in a nonchalant grey suit that hangs off his chiseled physique as he holds a large black envelope in one hand.
My throat tightens as I stutter out, ‘W-what are you doing here?’ Suspicion ripples through me as I observe him adjusting his tie with practiced ease.
‘I just came to check in on my favourite niece, and it seems you’re doing quite well,’ he responds smoothly, casting a slow appraisal over my form that sends shivers down my spine. Only when our eyes meet do I realize that I’ve been caught in his wicked game.
‘And I have a meeting with your husband Saint. Is he here?’ he questioned.
‘No, but he will be back soon. I’ll let him know you dropped by.’ I lied, though my reasons were unclear. Maybe I didn’t want to reveal that Saint was out of the country, or perhaps I found it odd that he hadn’t rescheduled the meeting.
So Krzysztof is lying.
As I attempt to close the door, his foot halts my progress and he forcefully nudges it back open. ‘I’m in no rush, not to mention the snowstorm outside is ferocious. Besides, the way the snow is sprinting down outside is hardly optimal for a slick drive back to my penthouse. The perilous roads are just asking for an accident. Best to stay put,’ he elaborates, casually sauntering in.
My throat cleared uncomfortably, and the entire room became tense as the atmosphere shifted.
‘Finally, now that we’re alone, I have the opportunity to catch up with you,’
he stated, and I forced a smile while pursing my lips.
Noticing that I had forgotten my phone in the kitchen, I lead him there but remembered that Saint was still on the phone. ‘Would you like some water?’
I inquired.
Krzysztof rejects my offer of kindness tossing the envelope on the counter.
‘Why are you here Krzysztof?’ I question. He cocks his head to the side, grinning mischievously. ‘I’m here for Saint,’ he replies, his tone dripping with insincerity.
I refused to believe his words and crossed my arms in defiance. ‘You’re lying.’
His expression remained unfazed. ‘Ah, the disrespectful back-talking is still your go-to defense mechanism, I see.’ Despite the fear that began to take hold in my chest, I refused to let him see me falter. My heart was pounding, but I held my composure.
‘I am not being disrespectful. I merely expressed my personal belief that you may be untruthful. It is important to understand the difference.’ I assertively declare.
With a deep breath, Krzysztof slowly advanced towards me. But, I refused to budge an inch as I met his intense stare head-on. He paused, a few feet away from me.
‘Hmm, Irena Irena Irena.’ tsking my name and shaking his head in disappointment. ‘Careful now, sweet Irena,’ he warned, his voice laced with an imposing tone, ‘you wouldn’t want to see what happens when you cross me again, would you?’ A wave of rage washed over me as he trailed off, and I could feel the fiery passion bubbling beneath my skin.
‘Allow me to jog your memory, Krzysztof. I am no fragile maiden and certainly do not quiver at the mere sight of you. If you have come seeking a brawl, rest assured, the consequences will be yours to bear, not mine. After all, you wouldn’t fancy ending up like poor Grzegorz, would you now? My husband just may take matters into his own hands and teach you a lesson for your impetuous intrusion.’ My words were laced with icy authority, as I made it crystal clear who held the real power in this scenario. ‘Maybe he’ll cut your tongue out worse, kill you.’ Krzysztof merely chuckled with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
My voice is laced with a dark warning as I confront Krzysztof. ‘You know he’ll be back, so it’s probably best for your own safety if you leave now.’ But Krzysztof doesn’t seem to take me seriously, his eyebrow raised in a smug expression. ‘Last I heard, he’s still in America. Should I ring him up? Saint!
Saint!’ he calls out mockingly, his words ringing out in a deafening silence.
Suddenly, his tone changes, and he approaches me menacingly.
‘To be honest, I’m here to send a warning to your precious husband. If he doesn’t pull through on our deal, he’s going to regret it.’ The words are barely out of his mouth before he grabs my hair, brutally slamming me onto the kitchen counter.
As I looked on, my view became hazy, with specks dancing before my eyes as a persistent buzz droned in my ear. My sight faltered, and I staggered back, sensing a warm trickling that made its way down my cheek.
‘You, my dear, are his weakness. With you in our grasp, we can attain anything from him.’ He declared, seizing my throat as his grip tightened around the air in my lungs.
Gasping for air, my eyes filling with tears, my head throbs with excruciating pain. Despite my efforts to push him back, his overpowering strength keeps me in place.
‘You’re nothing without him,’ he sneers, his voice dripping with venom.
‘Always have been and always will be. Just a pathetic girl responsible for the death of her parents doomed to never find love.’
For a moment, I nearly lose consciousness. But then my eyes fall on the knife, still lying on the counter from when I’d been chopping chocolate. With a desperate grab, I snatch it up and deliver a deep, swift wound to his gut before finishing him off with a vicious kick to the balls.
As Krzysztof falls, coughing and helpless, I refuse to hesitate. With the blade still in hand, I repeatedly stab him, venting all my anger and pain into each piercing blow.
‘Fuck you!’
Stab.
‘Fuck you!’
Stab.
‘Fuck you!’
Stab.
‘Fuck you!’
Stab.
‘Fuck you!’
Stab.
‘Fuck you!’
His chest ripped, ribs broke, and pulled out with violence. He gasped, his eyes bulging in disbelief. From his open mouth came gurgling, sputtering sounds. He wanted to cry out for help, but he could get no volume. The soft melody from earlier still played, a cruel juxtaposition to his fiery agony.
The pungent aroma of iron and the sound of flesh yielding to my blade, painted my face and clothes a crimson red. My every nerve was electrified by the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
His throat was the final strike, and I watched as his life seeped from his body, terror-stricken eyes locked in my gaze until the very end.
With a heavy exhale, I let the knife fall, crimson drops cascading from my features as I rose to my full height. I snatched the phone from the nearby counter, only to find the line was still open.
My trembling hand raises the phone to my ear, hearing his frantic voice on the other end.
‘Irena, Irena, speak to me. Are you alright?’ His words oozing with concern and fear.
With a quivering voice, I respond. ‘Saint,’ I whisper hoarsely, causing the weight on his chest to dissipate.
His tone lightens with relief. ‘Thank God. Irena, are you okay?’
My eyes dart to the lifeless body at my feet. Krzysztof cold, dead gaze meets mine, surrounded by a crimson puddle.
Taking a deep breath, I confess, ‘He’s dead, Saint.’
