From Frying Pan to Strange Fire

Roman made no effort to move another step toward her. He just stared at her after hearing her yell at him.

“What?!” he asked, surprised.

“This is my room, right?” Joan asked after sitting up, her tone calmer this time.

Roman didn’t know why she was asking that, but he still answered. “Yes, it is.”

“Good. Get out of my room.” Joan repeated, again with a calm tone, glaring daggers at him.

“Are you okay?” Roman asked, still not moving. He didn’t know what to think about what was happening. He expected her to be asking him about the attack but she was instead telling him to leave her room. Did she perhaps think that he was behind the attack? Was that why she was this angry at him?This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Do I look okay?” Joan asked, annoyed. She felt she was going insane, and the dreams she had been having were not helping matters. It was no headless man this time. Rather, there were strange looking people who continuously whispered things she didn’t understand into her ears until she finally found the will to break free from their hold.

“No, you don’t look okay. You look like you enjoying getting yourself in trouble and dangerous situations.” Roman answered, finally taking bold steps to cover the distance between them. As much as he was worried about her, he was also pissed. “What made you think you could run away from me? You almost got yourself killed, remained unconscious for more than 12 hours, and the first thing you do when you woke up safe and sound was to yell at me to leave your room? For what? For saving your ass?” Roman threw the questions one after another, gritting his teeth.

He was now standing by the edge of the bed, glaring down at her. He knew she wouldn’t have gotten into trouble if he had not dragged her into his messed up life, but damnit, if she had listened to him and not tried to escape, she would have been fine.

Joan was ready to retort, but she held her tongue because, once again, she began to feel the need to find clean air as the one she was currently breathing had become polluted. She narrowed her eyes as she shot him a suspicious look, believing as she had previously suspected, that he was responsible for what was happening to her.

To further confirm her suspicions, she could see his eyes slowly getting darker, having a few specks of red. This made her believe what she saw the first day in the car was not her imagination.

“What are you?” She managed to ask, willing herself not to panic and to keep breathing. “What are you doing to me?” She asked again, realizing that staying calm helped a great deal with her breathing, but not with the sudden chills running down her spine and the need to move away from this man.

Noticing her distress and hearing her question, Roman moved slightly away from her and composed himself. He was quite surprised she didn’t start wheezing like she did the previous times. Still, her question made him panic slightly.

“You’re stubborn. You don’t want to know what I do to stubborn and defiant girls. Stop tempting me and behave.” He uttered before backing off and going toward the door.

His words didn’t sit right with Joan so she knitted her brows. Much as he scared her, he also brings out a strange boldness and audacity from within her. However, she decided not to counter yet again because her breathing was gradually returning to normal as he moved away from her.

Roman walked away, snatching the key from the inner part of the door, and shutting the door after he stepped out. Joan widened her eyes, seeing what he had just done. Was he planning to lock her in? Or did he take the key because he didn’t want her to lock the door?

Roman turned around and inserted the key into the lock, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn it. He tried to force himself to do it. That was the least punishment he could give her for trying to defy him and do exactly what he said she shouldn’t.

In the end, he ran his fingers through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. This was a small thing. Just for a few hours and he would open the door again. Why the hell couldn’t he do it? Why was he struggling this much over something as simple as this?

Glaring at the door, he felt like releasing some of his frustrations by punching it, but simply knowing that she was in there made him shift his attention to the adjacent wall instead.

Without hesitation, he moved to his target and punched the wall so hard, Joan shook on the bed out of fear.

Her heart started to beat wildly, but she willed herself to stay calm as she fixed her eyes on the door, waiting for what would happen next.

A few seconds later, the door was opened to reveal a fuming Roman. Joan had never seen him look that pissed, even though she had only seen him a few times. Strangely, his anger seemed to bring her some joy and satisfaction. She shouldn’t be the only frustrated one.

Roman stated at her large green eyes which appealed greatly to him, and almost made him forget the reason he was angry in the first place.

He returned the key to its original position and turned around to walk away from there. Trevor stood a distance away from him, giving him a look, and Roman raised a brow at him.

“Her meal is ready.” Trevor reported, understanding the look Roman gave him.

“Good. Serve her then.” Roman commented, walking toward his room.

“Me?” Trevor asked, widening his eyes. Before Roman could say a word, Daniel, who just arrived at the scene, spoke up.

“I’ll do it.” He said and when Roman shot him a look, he added, “I think I can handle what Trevor is scared of.”

“And what’s that?” Roman asked.

“Her temper, boss. I have very good people skills.” He assured, and Roman walked away without saying a word more to either of them.

He had thought he had it all figured out and that after everything he had done, Joan would come around. But now, it was obvious he needed to restrategize.