How to Toy With a Killer's Heart

after my day's hustle is

, barely surviving another mediocre day with yet another mediocre problem

a mission to make my life a living hell in this godforsaken decrepit apartment. And if I were lucky to have some damn sleep by next tomorrow, maybe a wild storm from nowhere would hit California and f

l. And granted, I would

cursed her with loneliness, a salary that couldn't even afford to feed pigeons, a house that's breaking

he joints of the wood are already creaking and if I break this bed again, I may have to s

t that. You'd just end up waking up with bruises and s

here," I hum to myself as

ll, this box television is the only good thing right now in my life. Right there, positioned at the end of the room, resti

and Fortune' unfold on the screen and that toxic part of me that loved to watch the lavishness of these lucky, rich people came

ave that kind of bastard

me and Fortune, and with me today is the

my smile wipes c

gh as she speaks, "and yes, I know having me here on your

k and my face scr

yes, to some extent. I mean, it's not easy being the most sought after author in the whole world after all. I'm happy

s lift with pride as she spoke, that

s me fuck

book," Gabi continued, "a woman with so much to give the world, but such little lu

es. Her brown eyes glow with desperate cur

y to latch and hang onto Gabi's every word, "Would you say that you have also found your own Mr. Danger? Your own Mafia Man to seduce hi

. God, I hat

her sharp, green eyes. The way her full red lips stretch into a thin smirk and a pout at the same time when she notices how

fro, she answe

u off your feet and pamper you like a good girl. Or, treat you like his princess. It's all make-believe. Entertainment. No single Mafia man

, the Interviewer is qui

ticular that raises shivers down the spines of everyone in the continent.

andro F

the name

. She laughs awkwardly and uncomfortably. Gabi, on the other ha

proof, I said his name. I said the name of the oh-so-fe

, I am more inte

e, I couldn't help but be baffled at Gabi's boldness too. That name was the kin

otten close enough to him to know what he looks like, talk less of where he even lives. All we knew was that there was a place called The Xolo Estate in God-knows-where where

blogger who promised the internet to give him three days to crack the Xolo Mystery. He had gone missing for weeks, and afterwards, one fateful day, his lifele

as far as I am concerned, all these thin

back to the TV and I t

watch more about this Alessandro Ferrara man they call 'Xolo',

ht of Gabi Fraser, I remember my sister's sui

r be Sarissa. Sarissa was a better writer than Gabi Fraser could ever be. Even Gabi would never deny that. And thanks to the smug bitch, I have been thrown down from

ss Sa

in on my neck. It was a special necklace Sarissa

you, Indigo. Always the

't been there

person that I ever had in this wicked cold world. She used to tell me

O

T

hr

ndi

s shoot

e, I wonder if it was all in my head. My eyes search every corner

had found

ng. Somewhere. Any

window, I saw its shadow move awa

, hoping to hear them again. But, all I hear is the loud pounding

there?"

len

t's when I hear it, the subtle shuffling of feet against the wet, messy

again, but they

me, I

ends chills d

that stared right back at me, chilling smile that spreads to the corners of the ears, pale white skin that look

e lock-chain necklace tha

st, and nothing could have prepared me to ab

ari