There's no emotion strong enough to describe the way I need you. Because baby I'm drowning without you.

Serina POV

Not even the bottle of scotch could make me forget.
Because there was no forgetting him. I couldn't.

I never liked scotch. The liquor was never enjoyable to me, but what does that matter now? What does it matter what is good or not.

The scotch coated my throat and caused a buzz in my head. The buzz distracted me.

I didn't like scotch, but Lorenzo did.

Eyes watched me, glaring. Wishing to do horrible, unspeakable things to me. Hollow and dead eyes from Satan's men as We all sat in the leather seats of his elitists club—watching a naked woman spin on the pole in front of us.

Satan didn't even bother flying us back to Russia, he said there's no point in Limiting his power to just the Moscow base now that Lorenzo was...

So Satan said we would stay a while, to 'enjoy all that it has to offer'

Satan's arm draped over my shoulder as I clutched the bottle of scotch to my chest, the bottle cold against the bare skin. His arm over colder.

The slutty top and thong I was wearing earned me stares, hungry eyes.

Marco sat beside me, watching the woman spin as he took sips of his rum ever few moments. His eyes riddled with the reflection of the flashing lights.

The man beside Satan—was sucking face with another of the naked woman, as he fingered her core In front of us.

And the woman dancing on the pole, my eyes watched her spin. Not a single emotion or thought in my mind, I just watched blankly.

Two weeks. He's been gone. Dead. Two weeks.

"Be a good girl and get me another drink." Satan whispered into my ear, and I looked at him for a few moments before I shoved my bottle of scotch into Marcos lap abruptly and stood. 

My bare ass hanging out as I walked up to the bar, a man pouring me his bosses favourite. Gin.

Everyone here worked for Satan now, he'd bought the club and made it his own private brothel.

This little club was heavily guarded, and we sat in a private room. One of Satan's guards watched me as I stood at the bars counter to make sure I didn't run.

But there was no point in running. He'd catch me somehow.

So I just grabbed the drink, and spun on my heels.
A part of me wanted to feel, to feel all the rage. But I couldn't. All I felt was nothing. Emotionless.

It had been two weeks since Lorenzo was shot, and they have partied every day since. And I sat, and watched, and wished I was dead.

I walked back into the little room hidden in the corner, my stilettos clicking on the ground and I practically tossed the drink Into Satan's hands.

But not before he grabbed my wrist and said.
"We want you to dance for us." He smirked, his drunken voice laced with lust. Another man beside him snapped his fingers, and the woman on the pole bowed her head and stopped—walking away, and leaving the floor empty.

I didn't say a word, I just looked at him.

He wants me to dance. He wanted to humiliate me further.

when I didn't respond to his request he gripped my wrist harder, and pulled me down, holding me and my body against his.

Marco eyed me in a way—dare I even say cautiously.
Like he actually cared whether I got assaulted or not.

Satans hand moved to my neck, and my body froze in disgust in every place his touched with his fingers. My body like stone as he brushed his lips across my chest. "Dance Serina, or I'll—"

He'll do his worst.

"Fine." I said, as I pushed myself off him. My heart racing like a sports car. My vision so blurred I hoped it would make me block out this moment.

Lorenzo Save me, I wanted to repeat that a million times—but how foolish was that. He couldn't save me, not anymore.

There were six men and two women sitting around the elevated platform that sat in the middle of the room; Lighted In red LEDs, the devils color.

The music burned through my body, as I stepped up.
The flimsy crystal lingerie held together with thin straps sparked in the light.

My hand gripping the pole, my fingers tightening around it. Marco sat back in his chair, and looked away for a moment. His jaw grinding slightly.
Like he cared that I was being forced to exploit my body In a way.

But the others just stared, shamelessly, Wishing my clothes we see through.

Id danced like this before, times in my past when I was drunk and foolish. Yet this is different, this was meant to humiliate me, mock me, degrade me.

But no matter how blank I feel—I would never let Satan make this moment a way to make me less then I am.

So I walked around the pole slowly. Feeling my body beg to just fall to the floor, and let them kill me.

I knew dancing like this was a bad thing, a bad choice, but it was better then the punishment I'd get if I refused.

So I continued, my body moving as I tried to forget everything around me. Trying to wipe the guilt, the pain, the horror. Trying to wipe the disappointment and anger I knew Lorenzo would feel if he was here.

The men looked hungry, as they whistled and clapped like I was a whore on displays. Satan watched my face, and I looked at his.

He had a smirk on his face, as he practically forced me to prance around half naked.

I should have stabbed him twice, jammed the shrapnel into his heart. I should have.

Satan saw the spiteful look in my eyes as I slid down the stupid fucking pole, hating myself more in this moment then I ever though possible.

I don't know how long the song was, but I wished it end sooner. I lost time, distractingly myself. Trying to force myself to be the Serina I was before Lorenzo.

And as the the song finally ended, and I stopped my heart thundered my and body was on fire. I pushed off the pole and walked up to him.

Watching as he looked down my body with snake eyes, his gaze making me want to throw up.
"Now was that so hard." He said, as he looked and waited for a snappy response.

He has tried to get a rise from me since the second I stepped foot in the SUV. He hasn't stopped trying to get me to fight him.

I could fight back for the rest of my life, but I will never again give him the satisfaction of knowing he can get under my skin. So I bent down slightly, marking my movements in disrespect that spoke loudly. "I'm getting a drink." I scowled with hatred laced in my voice as I stood up again and stepped down.

A guard moving in front of my way I move around him and walk out. Hearing the sounds of footsteps behind me. So when I got to the bar I stopped and spun,

Marco standing in front of me, and behind him—Satan's eyes way he us tightly, as he was within listening distance with his hand on his gun—ready to kill Marco if he said the wrong thing

"Get your ass back there. He demands it." He said as he signalled for a shot from the bartender.

"Or what?" I whispered as I stepped forward into him, gripping his tie seductively and fixing it. "I would have thought you'd know me better then to assume I follow demands." I smirked as I brought my lips close to his, my mouth hanging open.

My hands running down his chest.

"Serina." He growled, as he placed his hand on the counter to stabilize himself as I breathed hot air into his skin. I shifted my eyes over to Satan again, who was watching us curiosity.

"You took Lorenzo away from me." I whispered into his ear while still looking at Satan with spite as I kept my body pressed against Marcos. "You stole my heart." I added as I ran my hand up and behind his neck slowly and carefully, and pulled his face so I was staring into his eyes. Hating the way they replayed his betrayal, hating the way I could see my broken reflection in his irises.

"And so when I kill you..."I smiled with psychotic eyes as I placed my one hand over the fabric of his suit that covered his heart.

"...I'll make sure I take yours." My words were laced with truth and acid.

And that was the last thing I said before I kicked him in the balls, and he sank to the floor in front of me—and for a moment he was at my mercy.

My fist reeling back, I hit Him in the face—and he drops onto his knees even further.

I'd never thought I could be completely and utterly insane. But I have nothing to loose now. The want for vengeance and revenge must do strange things to your mind.

Lorenzo is the love of my life. He's gone. There is no fixing me after that. There's no version of Serina after Lorenzo. Just a person with that name.

So with My eyes on Satan I grabbed Marcos drink and walked away.

He could kill me if he wanted, I didn't care anymore.

Feeling the pain of my heartbreak caused me to slip slowly into madness.