Sweet Sin - S01 E63

Story 1 day ago

Sweet Sin - S01 E63

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 63

[Three Minutes Later]

Migos bounced back to the living room with a dissatisfied smirk flaring his nose, gun swinging fast around his pointer finger.

Nun Estelle was still on the floor, scared, and when he went past her, he gave her a impulsive kick in the face. Estelle fell back.

Her broken wrist got worse, but she quickly covered her mouth with her palm to muffle her cry cos letting it out might mean a shot from Migos. She has only spent a few minutes here, but she knows Migos has a bad temper.

Even Jude pulled a gun at her, so she’s not taking chances.

She clamped the palm tight over her mouth, shaking as she felt her bone cracking again.

“Are you on the shit again?” Yalda asked with an eye roll.

“I’d be messier if I was on the shit,” Migos glared. “Wrath is back with the New Meat, but shit, he gon’ let her take out the bullet.”

“And?” Yalda scoffed.

“If you don’t see anything shitty about that, then you need to get some sleep, chic.” Migos hissed. “In the past, all his bullets were either removed by himself, or by me! He’s just gonna let this dull bitch dominate?”

“As long as it doesn’t affect my menstrual cycle,” Yalda shrugged. “Or my daily bread. I don’t give a fûck, Migos. Wrath knows what he’s doing, and you obviously need that sleep more. Calm your darn muscles, man.”

“He took her to his—”

“Didn’t Yalda just tell you to let it go?” Jude cut into Migos’s words. “Father knows how to handle his plans and shit. Don’t be thirsty.”

“Dude, are you talking to me like that?” Migos crossed over to him.

“You are not going to start a bloodbath in here, Migos!” Yalda blocked his way.

“No!” Migos insisted. “I feel dirty, and I need his blood for that bath!”

Jude stood still by the wall, not a bit moved by Migos’s temper or threats.

Yalda continued tackling Migos, pushing him back in repeat.

On the floor, Nun Estelle just watched silently, holding her cracked wrist.

—

[Bedroom]

Seraphina excelled in treating wounds. Back in Redd Estate when her sisters fought her everyday, she always ended up wounded and stole the family kit to treat her wounds.

This gunshot wound is new to her though. She never got to deal with bullet shit before, but her experience still helped. Also, the owner of the wound isn’t even acting it.

Tobias sat on the bed edge, cigarette between his lips, arm angled for her eyes to reach and fingers to reach.

Even while he’s sitting and she’s standing like this, his height still popped over hers, and that just made her wonder how she was able to reach his face the other time when she came to church to slap him.

Silly,silly move.

He’s got a small kit too, but all the bottles in the kit are unlabelled. Maybe he removed all the labels, so she doesn’t know which is which.

She’s already thinking of how to identify them as she prepared to take out the bullet with a scalpel.

“I’m going all in now,” she said.

Tobias faced her, and all the smokes from his drag bathed her face. She’d have coughed if she ain’t a once-in-a-while smoker herself.

His smoke smells like a mix of incense and mint which just made her wonder what brand he smokes. She hadn’t smelled that before.

But above all, the smokes between them gave his eyes a shade of ash which made her unable to blink as she stared at the eyes.

His eyes are beautiful, and—

“Just take it out. Make it bloody. I like it bloody.” His words cut into her thoughts.

She blinked back, returning her stare to his arm. “Sure. Ok.”

Then she went all in with the scalpel. He didn’t even flinch, but she knows he feels the pain cos he puffed so deep on his cigar throughout, using the smokes as his stronghold.

He didn’t pour out the smokes till the bullet fell out of his arm. He released the smokes through his nostrils and mouth, so cloudy and thick.

The scent filled her as she began swabbing the blood off the wound, and she badly wants to have a puff.

But nothing beats his oud. This whole room smells like that. As she swabbed with the second wet cotton, she was side-eyeing the room.

Though, the black walls seemed to suck out all other forms, but the lights are on, so she could see clearly.

The room isn’t stacked.

Just the medium-sized bed, his minimalist vanity and closet, and his laptop on the drawer.

For a man as rich as he is, this Rectory is too minimalist, but Yalda said he has his personal mansion, and she’s guessing wherever that place is, it’ll be a damn palace.

Maybe one day, she’ll earn the rights to go there with him.

She dropped the last cotton and dragged the kit closer. Now, the issue about the unlabelled bottles.

“How do I know the one to…apply first?” She asked, expecting an answer as she touched them one by one,but no answer came.

When she looked up, he was looking at her.

She saw him looking, and he didn’t look away when their eyes met.

He kept up the look she doesn’t understand, but it made her gulp. Her fingers twitched on top of the bottles she placed them on.

“I hate labels on drugs,” he finally talked, looking away. “It’s all the same, just use one.”

Seraphina picked the brown bottle and dipped a bud, applying the wet liquid gently on his arm.

It stung him.

She knows by how hard he puffed on the cigarette again.

But she couldn’t shake off what she feels by his last statement.

“I’m guessing you…” She looked up. “You hate labels cos they represented your parents when you were young. Other kids got parents guidance on medicine, but you got none from parents. You had to rely on the labels on the body of the bottles before you were able to use your medicines.”

Silence blowed the room after she said those words. Just her heavy breathings, and his smokes.

Even her pulse felt quicker cos he gave her a really deep stare which made her skin shift.

“You think you know everything, Seraphina.”

“I’m just saying—”

“Leave.” He interrupted, dropping his cigar on the ashtray.

His mood turned foggy she couldn’t even see through his eyes.

She slowly dropped the bud.

“Fath—”

“I will not repeat that word,” he stood, towering over her. “Next, I’ll give you a arm shot to remember too.” He drew a gun under the bed.

He aimed for her forehead, slipping his finger under the deadly trigger.

Seraphina picked her phone from where she had dropped it, then she went for the door.

She held the knob, pulled it open, but she looked back at him.

And that was it.

He pulled the trigger.

The bullet rammed into the door—right above the knob. Above her hand.

Her blood stopped flowing as the sound bounced through the walls. She felt blood boiling to black in her ears and face.

She rushed out, nearly slipping on her sneakers. She never looked back anymore, till she disappeared.

Migos and Yalda came over. Merely seeing the hole on the door, Migos cussed.

“I knew I should’ve never let her in! Fûck!”

“Are you ok, Wrath?” Yalda asked.

Tobias stood still beside the bed, gun in hand.

He didn’t even answer her.

“I can still catch up with her. I’mma plant a bullet in her.” Migos announced, shifting.

“Migos, what I need you to do is listen while I fuckin speak, and do whatever the fûck I tell you to do!” Tobias spat, facing them.

Whenever his aqua eyes are bloodshot like this, it’s like an execution is happening in hell,but this one’s more dangerous.

Maybe hell’s falling apart, cos he looks like a maddened dog.

“She made you mad to the point of you having to shoot the door?” Migos argued. “Wrath, she’s unneeded. You could use Yalda. Send her to the Empire, and we get that shit back within a fucking week!”

Tobias shot again.

It wasn’t the door this time. It was meant for Migos, and it got Migos on the leg, sending him staggering down with a yell, head slamming the wall as his blood ran out.

“What the fûck did I just say, motherfucker?” Tobias demanded, redness spreading beyond his eyes to his eyelids, deeply.

“Aggg…shit!” Migos cussed, more blood running, spreading. “You talk, and I listen. I do whatever the hell you tell me to do.”

“Good,” Tobias lowered his hand.

He left the room, slamming the door heavily behind him.

“You deserve all that shit, wanker.” Yalda smiled. “You know how much he hates interruption or opposition, but those are your hobbies. You’re gonna get killed one of these days, I think that’s why Jude is here. You get to see your replacement before you die, Wrath is nice, to a point.”

She was chuckling as she left the room, softly closing the door.

Migos crawled fast to the kit on the bed, dragging it down.

He was panting as he picked a new scalpel, wet it with disinfectant. He dug it into his leg, pushing the bullet out forcefully, jaws clashing.

“Fuckkk!!!!”

—