BXBX NOVEL Chapter 77 Gusto
Every step toward the bedroom felt heavier than the last, her heart sinking as the oppressive silence of the house seemed to swallow her whole.
She followed Ross, her mind screaming at her to turn back, to run, to fight—yet her body refused to obey.
Her stomach churned as she crossed the threshold into what had once been her sanctuary—her bedroom.
The sight of Ross sitting so casually on her bed, legs folded in a perfect lotus position, sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.
His sharp, unyielding gaze locked onto her the moment she entered, pinning her in place.
But before she could process the sheer weight of his presence, a loud crash echoed from the living room.
"Bang!"
Maya spun around instinctively, her heart leaping into her throat. Her wide eyes landed on the towering, masked figure who now dominated the space.
The man—or this force of nature, perhaps—effortlessly carried Peter, still tied to a chair, with a single hand as though he weighed nothing at all.
The masked figure's other hand hovered just above Peter's head, fingers poised with a deliberate stillness that radiated menace.
Maya's breath hitched. The sheer strength this man possessed was terrifying—inhuman, even.
She gulped hard, her throat dry, as the realization sank in: she knew exactly what Ross had planned.
The image played vividly in her mind, and it was enough to make her stomach twist into knots.
Yet there was nothing she could do. No words would sway Ross. No action could overpower him or his creations. Powerless and afraid, she turned back toward the bedroom, her legs moving on autopilot.
When she reentered the room, Ross hadn't moved an inch. He remained seated on her bed, his posture unnervingly calm, his expression unreadable yet undeniably commanding.
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His presence dominated the space, and even though he wasn't touching her, she felt the weight of his control bearing down on her like a physical force.
"Come, sit," Ross said, his tone low and devoid of urgency, yet it left no room for refusal. "It would be a shame if I fucked you until dawn with nothing in your stomach. You'll need strength to survive this night."
Maya's legs nearly buckled at his words, but she obeyed without question. She didn't have it in her to resist—not anymore.
Slowly, she sank down onto the bed across from him, her hands clenched into fists in her lap.
An empty space separated them, but it felt like an unspoken battle was already taking place, one where Ross held all the power.
Her gaze shifted to Peter, who had been placed at the edge of the bed. His wide, terrified eyes darted between her and Ross, his breathing shallow and rapid. Maya felt her chest tighten.
He wasn't just a victim—he was an unwilling witness to whatever Ross had planned for her tonight.
Ross exhaled softly, leaning back on the bed, his gaze still fixed on her. Then, as though the timing had been preordained, he asked casually, "Where's my dinner?"
Maya blinked, confused by the sudden change in tone, but Ross's attention wasn't on her anymore.
"Ding dong!"
The doorbell rang, startling her once again. She turned toward the door, unsure of what to expect, but nothing could have prepared her for what followed.
The door creaked open, revealing three men, each hidden behind the same sinister demon masks. They stepped inside with an eerie precision, carrying steaming trays of food and bottles of wine.
The rich, savory aroma of the dishes reached her nose, making her stomach churn further.
The food was exquisite—an extravagant feast of delicacies that looked like they belonged in the banquet hall of an emperor.
Golden-roasted meats glistened under the soft light, decadent pastries sat arranged in perfect symmetry, and bottles of wine that looked centuries old were carried in as though this was the most natural thing in the world.
But Maya couldn't focus on the food. Her eyes remained locked on the masked figures, whose movements were too synchronized, too unnatural.
They were no ordinary men—she could feel it in the air.
"Killers," she whispered to herself, and the realization sent a chill down her spine.
Ross smirked, as if he'd heard her unspoken thought. "They're not bad, are they? I raised them myself. They'd die for me if I commanded it."
His words were casual, but they only deepened Maya's dread. Ross wasn't just a man; he was something far more dangerous, far beyond her comprehension.
She couldn't fathom how an 18-year-old young man had managed to assemble and command a group of trained, cold-blooded killers.
In truth, these individuals were nothing more than puppets, conjured out of thin air by Ross just like what he did with James.
The masked killers moved with eerie silence, placing the lavish meal on the bed between Ross and Maya.
"Eat," Ross said, his tone more a command than an invitation. Without waiting for her response, he began devouring the food with evident relish, savoring each bite as though he hadn't a care in the world.
Maya hesitated, her gaze flickering between the plates of food and Ross's unapologetic indulgence.
She sat motionless for more than five minutes, her hands resting in her lap, unsure whether she dared touch the meal.
Yet the sight of Ross eating with such gusto made her stomach twist in protest. A deep, gnawing hunger began to bubble up inside her, impossible to ignore.
Truth be told, she hadn't eaten much of anything all day. The chaos, fear, and horrors she'd endured—not to mention the carnage she'd witnessed the previous night—had stolen her appetite.
But now, the tantalizing aroma of the food filled the room, and her body betrayed her resolve.
Finally, unable to resist any longer, Maya reached out and cautiously picked up a plate.
Her hands trembled slightly as she brought the first bite to her mouth, unsure of what awaited her.
The moment Maya took her first bite, her entire body stilled.
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