vengeance

who is he?

Ryan's gaze locked onto Charlotte's big olive eyes, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. The intensity of his stare made her skin prickle, but then, without a word, he lowered the gun and continued driving. The rest of the ride was oppressive, the silence between them thick and heavy.

As they pulled up to his house, Ryan's parents greeted Charlotte with warm smiles. His mother enveloped her in a hug, while his father extended a welcoming hand. Ryan, however, brushed past them without a word, disappearing into his room with a quiet thud of the door.

"Welcome, Charlotte," his father said, his voice filled with warmth. "How are you, darling?" his mother asked, her eyes sparkling with kindness. Charlotte forced a smile, her politeness intact despite the turmoil brewing inside her. "I'm fine, thank you," she replied, her voice measured.

His mother nodded, her expression understanding.

"I asked the maid to show you to your room. Ryan... well, he prefers his solitude, so you'll have to make do. You'll have to improvise, I'm afraid."

Charlotte's eyebrow arched slightly, her mind racing with possibilities.

"Probably because he's planning murders," she quipped, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Ryan's father chuckled, his eyes clouding over with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. "I think you're mistaken, dear. Ryan's a kind soul. He's even gentle with Brian." Charlotte's curiosity piqued. "Brian who?" she asked, her voice tinged with intrigue.

Ryan's father walked away, saying,

"That's a story for another time."

Charlotte tried to ask more, “sir…”,but he turned back and said,

"Call me Dad, that's what Ryan calls me." His mom smiled and followed him, leaving Charlotte with the maid.

"Let's go, I'll show you your room," the maid said, breaking the silence. Charlotte nodded and followed her, still thinking about the mysterious conversation.

In the evening, Charlotte strolled through the garden, lost in thought. Suddenly, Ryan emerged, looking dashing in a black coat, crisp white shirt, and sleek black pants. His watch gleamed in the fading light, and his messy hair added a touch of rugged charm. He seemed to be heading out, but his eyes locked onto hers, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Cherry, go inside," he said, his voice low and husky. "It's cold out here, and you're not even wearing a jacket." Charlotte rolled her eyes, a hint of defiance sparking within her. "Go where you were going," she retorted, her tone dismissive.

Ryan's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, his gaze piercing. "You're so stubborn," he muttered, his voice tinged with exasperation. "I said go inside." Charlotte refused to budge, and Ryan's expression softened slightly. "Please?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of persuasion.

But Charlotte still refused, and Ryan's patience wore thin. He threw his head back and groaned, the sound echoing through the garden. In a swift motion, he removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders, the warmth of the fabric enveloping her. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Charlotte wrapped in the scent of his cologne and the weight of his coat.

Charlotte watched Ryan disappear into the distance, her mind racing. Why was he being so gentle with her? She pushed aside any softening feelings, reminding herself he wasn't a good guy.

She tried calling her mom again, but she didn't answer. Charlotte sighed, knowing her mom was hurt and angry. Her daughter had married her husband's murderer, after all. The thought still felt heavy and complicated. She thought to herself, “I mean at least he smells good.”

The family sat down for dinner, and the maids served Charlotte's favorite dishes. Ryan wasn't there, but his parents chatted happily. Then, a person with a covered face walked in. Ryan's father hugged him warmly and made him sit with them. His mother smiled at him, too. Charlotte was confused - who was this person? and why was his face covered?

Ryan walked in just in time for dinner, quickly washing his hands before joining the table. Everyone greeted him warmly, and he playfully ruffled the mysterious person's hair, a gesture that suggested a close relationship. Ryan then took his seat beside Charlotte, noticing she hadn't touched her food.

With a knowing glance, he filled her plate himself, anticipating her stubbornness. Charlotte wasn't impressed, but she began eating small bites as Ryan devoured his food with gusto, his hunger apparent in the way he took big, satisfying bites. The contrast between their eating styles was almost comical, with Ryan savoring each morsel like he hadn't eaten in days.

As everyone else finished their meal and left the table, Charlotte tried to get up, but Ryan pushed her back down into her chair, trapping it between his legs. "Charlotte..." he began, his voice low and husky, "I don't know what you're thinking about me, but don't starve yourself." Charlotte tried to yank him away, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "Don't pretend like you care," she snapped.

Ryan's expression remained impassive. "I don't care. I'm just fulfilling my responsibility." He picked up a spoon and started feeding her forcefully, his movements swift and efficient. Charlotte chewed slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. "You've probably poisoned this too," she muttered, trying to provoke him.

Ryan's lips curled into a low chuckle, and he gently closed her mouth with his fingers. "Be a good girl and shut up while eating," he whispered, his breath tickling her skin. Charlotte's defiance flared up again. "I'll go..." But Ryan's grip tightened. "Like I'll let you?"

Somehow, Ryan managed to feed her the entire plate, his hold on her chair unwavering. When she finally finished, he released his grip, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and authority. Charlotte's face was flushed, her breathing slightly ragged, but she said nothing, her gaze fixed on her plate.

The mysterious figure, still shrouded in shadows, watched the tense exchange between Ryan and Charlotte with growing despair. His eyes filled with tears, and his fists clenched in anguish. Unable to bear the scene any longer, he suddenly turned and ran away, disappearing from view. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the hallway, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that lingered between Ryan and Charlotte.