"If lying were a crime, we'd all be in jail."

➳ ➳ ➳

Earlier that day, Nicholas moved forwards on his seat as he clenched his hands in an attempt to calm himself, but nothing seemed to work for him right now. The only thing he wanted to do was grab the blonde man sitting in front of him by the neck and choke him to death. That's how angry he was, but Nicholas knew better than that. Things weren't going as expected. He had a plan, and it was going how he wanted, until today. The news he received today was not pleasant.

The blonde man's skin got even paler, and he gulped once he spotted his boss' furious expression, his eyes were burning daggers at him, and his blood was boiling, the man knew that something terrible would happen if he said anything wrong.

"Can you please repeat yourself, Mr. Pitcho?" Nicholas asked him in a deep voice, making him sweat. Henry fixed his blue suit and cleared his throat, trying not to show how scared he was.

"We couldn't find the evidence we need for this case. M-my and I searched for every possibility, and it's simply impossible. There is no case here." He finished, stammering terribly and saw Nicholas' nostrils flair and slam his ready fist on the desk, making the objects move from their place. Raymond jumps in surprise but made sure not to show his discomfort.

"Then maybe you haven't searched good enough," Nicholas says, through his gritted teeth, irritated with his employee's lame excuse. It was one thing that Nick knew for sure, and that was there is no perfect crime.

"Mr. Snow, I swear to God-" The poor man couldn't get to finish his sentence because, in one swift movement, he was on his feet with Nick's big hands around his neck with not enough force to choke him, but to leave a bruise that will remind him this was no joke. Nicholas is serious. His patience was running thin, and he has been waiting for Raymond to show up for two months now, yet came empty-handed.

"Don't you dare tell me that. I was clear when I assigned you a job, and you come back after all this time with nothing. How should I take that?" Nicholas asked him, his eyes turned a darker shade of green. The room went completely silent; the two men stand there with dark windows, making sure no other employee can see them from outside. Henry placed his hands on Nick's wrist, trying to loosen his grip a bit. He was afraid for his life and knew how Nicholas could get when he is angry. He for sure didn't want to experience it.

"I'm sorry. Really." He apologized, terrified, and widened blue eyes.

"Your sorry won't do anything," Nicholas yelled, shaking him now.

"I-We'll search again. More careful this time." Henry's shaky voice says, and the fear in his eyes made Nicholas relax a bit. He realized if he kept forcing pressure on the other man, he would kill him. He didn't want to do that, even though he was exceedingly enraged with him. He sighed deeply and removed his hands from Henry's neck. Nick's hand was now holding him by his tie.

"Do it! And next time you come here, you come here with fucking evidence." Nicholas told him sternly, and Henry nodded his head quickly as he still gasps for air. He tried to support himself on the chair behind him and caressed his neck to soothe the pain.

"I will Mr. Snow." He said breathlessly. Nicholas sat on his chair again and started writing and signing papers on his desk. He is avoiding eye contact with Henry since he knows Nicholas would snap back if he saw his face.

"Leave my office, Mr. Pitcho. We are done."

"Yes, sir," Henry whispered and not trusting his voice at the moment. Hesitantly, he turned his back to Nicholas and moved towards the tall, black, wooden door walking outside without another word.

Once the clicking of the door closing was heard, Nick's loud groan echos in the office. The papers on the desk flew on the floor as he pushed them away, aggressively, and soon followed the coffee mug. He took it in his hand and with force, threw it against the wall, making it smash to small pieces.

"Fuck! Damn it." He cursed loudly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. When Enrique called earlier that day to tell him Henry might have found something useful, he felt delighted and immediately ran out of the house to talk to him. He thought they finally found something, anything that would make the ones who caused him any pain to pay the price. Now, he is disappointed.

He collapsed on the chair and exhaled, looking on the corner of his desk was her picture in a thick, black frame. He observed it with sad, gentle, loving eyes softening all features. Her beautiful smile and big brown eyes warmed up his heart for a moment, but it didn't last long.

"They will pay, I promise." He said, still looking at the picture of her. He was determined to make them pay, even if it meant killing them himself and have their filthy blood in his hands.

[Angelina]

"Did we have to come back so soon?" I asked Guidry when he parked the car in front of the big gate. He looked at me from the mirror and smiled before shaking his head. I pouted, crossing my arms in front of my chest and looked out the window to the house.

I wasn't prepared Nicholas, yet. I want to spend a single day without having to look at that face.

That handsome face...

"I think you should probably get inside," Guidry told me, and I turned my head, still sitting in the back seat. I nodded and undid my seat belt, which Guidry insisted I wear.

"Yeah, you're right. Thank you, Guidry, I had a lovely time." I told him truthfully, and he smiled a bright smile.

"Me too."

I opened the door and stepped out, taking a big breath in as I walked through the gate in front of me and saw a dark shadow by the window. It soon disappeared before I could get a better view. I had a feeling though, it was Nicholas, and that made my anxiety appear, and my heart started beating fast.

I opened the door slowly, which was already unlocked and stepped inside hesitantly. What if he is mad at me? I didn't do anything terrible. The hallway was empty, Agnes and Sandra weren't there, maybe they were upstairs.

Just when I shut the door behind me, I heard footsteps descending the grand staircase that grew louder and heavier.

Nicholas.

At first, I saw his shoes, but soon enough, I saw his whole figure come into view. His one hand was on his stomach, and the other arm hung limply by his side. He wore a dark grey suit with a black tie that fit perfectly as always. His head was down, he wasn't looking at me, and I couldn't tell if he was angry or not. I stood in place not daring to take a step forward or backward, I waited for him to approach.

"It's nice to see you obey me for once without arguing." He said, sounding tired and his eyes finally met mine. I still couldn't tell what he was feeling, because he was here when his mind wasn't. It was obvious something is bothering him, I can tell by his intense eyes — the hatred.

"Yes," I replied.

"Come with me." He said sternly, giving more of a reason to obey. He guided me upstairs, and no one said a word. Almost there, I knew where he was taking me. The Studio. Was he going to work on his painting again? He stopped in front of the heavy door and opened it with small, silver keys. He motions for me to walk inside first.

"You know what to do." I heard him say from behind me and I gulped, turning to face him.

"Now?" I asked with a frown and an attempt of looking innocent and pure. Hey, you never know, it might work.

"Yes, darling. is there a problem here?" He asked me with his heavy English accent. He didn't look the least bit affected by me. Instead, he remained severe and professional, so I decided to get this over with.

"No," I said lightly and appeared small.

"Then undress."

And with that, he turned his back to me and walked towards the opened windows. He closed them shut and pulled the long, dark curtains over them, preventing the sun from shining through. He was preparing everything. The canvas, the colors and everything else he would need and I just stood there frozen, staring at him like he was the most fascinating thing I had ever seen - maybe he even was. I didn't know what it was that intrigued me so much.

Nick stood in front of the big, still empty canvas and took his suit off, gracefully. Placing it on the chair, he pulled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows, showing a few of his tattoos that I now know were there. The thin material of his shirt made it possible to see the rest as well, along with his toned muscles that clenched every time he moved.

I shook my head, removing my eyes from Nick's figure and looked in the opposite direction. I took off my clothes quickly this time and moved my long, brown hair over my breasts before unclasping my bra and putting it on the floor with the rest of my clothes. I was only in my underwear; I took a deep breath to prepare myself and walked towards the sofa like last time. I wasn't as scared at then, but I was still uncomfortable, especially since Nicholas has his eyes observing me. He didn't move from his spot like the last time though, he stayed in place and just looked at me.

I sat down, trying to remember the position I was supposed to be, but it was getting more and more difficult with Nicholas in front of me. I bit my lip feeling my cheeks turn red from embarrassment. I carefully lie down, taking the red silk sheet with me and pose it like it was before.

My eyes moved back to Nicholas, and I saw him nod, making me relax a bit more. His eyes rolled back onto the canvas and took the small, thin paintbrush in his hands. He dipped the hair into black paint and then moved his hand to the white canvas. His eyebrows knit together and pressed the brush to the surface, finally starting to paint.

My eyes were focused on him more than I understood that something was off. He wasn't one hundred percent concentrated like the night I remembered. It looks more as if he didn't know what he was doing. His hand was moving fast, confusing lines and was biting his lip hard. Something was disturbing him, whatever happened earlier must have been pretty bad when the man called. I glanced at the clock on the wall and back to Nicholas. It had already been thirty minutes since we have been here, of him being distracted.

"Nick..." I called to him, but he ignores, his eyes were focused on the canvas and whatever he drew on it. His face quickly turned to show anger, and he brought two lines making the mark of an X and threw the paintbrush to the floor.

"God, damn it!" He shouted, making me jump and sit up with wide eyes. He took the canvas in his hands and threw it with force across the room, taking a few other paintings with it that was previously hanging on the same wall. I gasped and put the sheet over my body as an attempt to cover my exposed body.

"Fucking hell!" He cursed.

"Mr. Sno-"

"Get the hell out of here!" He yelled at me, and I stood up, looking confused at him. He was pacing back and forth with his hands on his head as if he were in pain. Is he in pain?

"What's the matter?" I asked in a low voice, too scared to talk correctly. He heard me and turned to my direction. His lips were parted, and he was breathing heavily as his eyes looked at me intensely. Then he came and stood in front of me, so close I could smell his intoxicating cologne.

"You better get out of here." He said, staring and towering over me.

"What happened?" I asked again, firmly.

"Get out!" He repeated, pointing at the door behind him, but I stood my ground. He was acting irrationally, and I was afraid to leave him alone. What is he does something stupid? What if he hurts himself? My feet weren't listening to me, and my foolish mouth had to open.

"Why?"

"Because if you were scared of me before, after what happened, you would be terrified." He said slowly, his eyes glowing like a predator in the night.

"I-"

"Get out damn it." He says through gritted teeth and didn't wait for me to move or talk, he just took my wrist in his hand and walked, pulling me with him. I stumbled a bit and held the red silk tightly and over my chest. Nick opened the door and with force pushed my small body outside the room, letting me fall to the cold ground.

I gasped at the cold chill and tilted my head up, looking at his figure through my lashes. His jaw clenched, but his eyes almost looked apologetic - almost.

"For once, just listen to what I fucking say." He grunted and closed the door in my face.

~ ~ ~

"Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" Agnes asked me for the fifth time today. I nod my head this time.

"Yes, what could happen?" I told her, faking a smile.

Anything could happen.

Agnes had a break for the next two days, which means that she won't be around for two days, leaving me with Nicholas. Sandra works until noon, so after that, I would be alone with him. As much as I didn't want it, I couldn't tell Agnes not to go. That would be selfish, and besides, she deserves a break, even if it was just the weekend. This is why I try to convince her everything was fine, and she could leave feeling less worried.

"Fine, but call me if you need anything. Anything." She insisted. I roll my eyes with a smirk as I patted her back.

"I'll be fine, just go," I told her, and she looked at me for one last moment before taking a deep breath.

"Be careful... He could sometimes be demanding." She caressed my cheek and stepped outside. I waved and closed the door and whispered to myself. "I know."

I sigh and look at an empty house. Sandra left an hour ago and Nick; after ruining his studio, he left the house in a hurry, but he hasn't been seen since then. Whatever caused his reaction must have been horrible, but it was no excuse to explain the way he treated me. He threw me out like a scrap, again, and shut the door in my face.

Right now, the only thing I hoped for was not to have to deal with his bipolar behavior, and maybe this weekend would pass by fast. I walked over to the living room where the TV was still on and sat down on the sofa in an attempt to relax every time I thought of Nick coming back crossed my mind even though my heartbeat increases dramatically.

Close your eyes, Angelina.

I was slowly drifting off to sleep, my eyes closed, and my head was growing heavy. Before I could entirely fall asleep, a loud, hard noise was heard. Somebody was banging on the front door impatiently. My eyes opened wide and approached carefully. The sound grew louder.

Nicholas?

"I'm coming!" I yelled. I ran to the door now and opened it with an annoyed expression.

"What-" I stopped myself when I saw who was standing in front of me. Yes, it was Nick, but he wasn't looking so good. He could barely stand on his own two feet, his head hung low, and his messy curls covered parts of his face. The shirt he wore was ripped on the front side, exposing his torso. My mouth felt dry, and I can't make any words. I was stunned, in front of me was something I never expected to see, he was wasted. He looked like he was in a fight.

"Mr. Snow?"

"Get out of my way." He spat at me, moving me to the side and came stumbling in. I closed the door and approached him hesitantly. I don't know what I was supposed to do, help him? Leave it to himself and find his room? Psh, I sound like a child.

Nick was about to take a step forward, but due to the drunken state, he lost balance and almost fell before I ran to his side. He looked at me with his pretty green eyes and blinked a little before his eyes entirely focused. His face was pale, and his forehead was sweating. Ugh, he's a mess.

"Fank you." He said with difficulty. I just nodded my head and started ascending the stairs, letting him support himself on me.

When he reached his bedroom, I suddenly started to panic again. Nicholas specifically said I was not allowed in his room. It won't matter in this situation, though, would it? It's not my fault.

"Take me to bed." He whispered, rubbing his temples with his hands.

"Okay..." I took the doorknob in my hands and turn it, pushing it open all the way. I flicked on the lights, but it didn't make much of a difference from when they were off. The walls were colored black, and a big painting covered one of the four. A blood-red curtain covered the only window, the king-sized bed in the middle, and black duvets on top, and in the corner was a big wardrobe with a mirror.

"Bed." Nick slurred. With a bit of difficulty, we reached the large bed, and I was about to remove his hand from around my neck, but he wouldn't have it. He fell on the couch, causing me to fall with him.

I squealed without wanting to as I collapse on the soft, comfortable, mattress with Nick's limp body on top of me. His one leg was positioned over my legs, and one of his arms lay over my torso, making it impossible for me to free myself.

"Mr. Snow," I called his name with a shaky voice.

"They did it. He did it." He started whispering, making no sense at all. His breath smelled of alcohol and cigarettes, then I saw the little red lip stain on his white shirt, and I don't know why, but I got angry.

"Mr. Snow!" I said a bit louder this time, but he still won't listen to me; instead, he's laying there, stiff as a board and whispering the same thing over and over.

"He did it. Why would he do that?" He slurred and looked at me after forcing his own eyes to open, to peel away from each other. I couldn't understand him, it was barely English. His voice was full of pain, and I frowned.

What is he talking about?

I don't even care I was trapped anymore, my curiosity was growing, and I wanted to know what he was saying.

"What did he do, Nick?" I asked him, he immediately answered with more pain in his voice.

"He killed her, Angel." He said. His chin quivered, and my heart broke to see him in this state. I caressed his cheek, pushing his hair away.

"But, who did he kill?"

"Her!"

Although it was a simple reply, I could tell he was getting a bit aggravated; even with the alcohol. I wanted something more. I wanted a name, so I push for it.

"Okay, who was she? "

"Nina. She was my Nina."