Stroke of Midnight

I take a deep, calming breath as my mind begins to plot and plan. The Morellis may think I’m a weak little princess they can manipulate and terrorize into obeying.
There’s only one man I allow to terrorize me into obedience.
Winston Constantine.
It’s time for the princess to save the villain…

Whirling around, I glare as Scout enters the room followed by his matching monster clones. They’re all dressed in tuxedos, filling out the material like grown men. In another world, a girl would grow weak in the knees at seeing them like this—handsome and dressed to the nines. My knees are weak for a whole other reason

Me: Are you having fun?
Winston: Endless amounts.
Me: You just miss me.
Winston: Don’t flatter yourself.
Me: Liar. The stylist had to leave.
Winston: Should I send another?
Me: I’m not a complete idiot. I can do my own hair and makeup.
Winston: Send me a picture.
Me: I’ll trade you one.
He sends me a selfie of him scowling. Tons of photographers are milling about behind him in a luscious courtyard. It makes me laugh because he seems miserable. In return, I send him a smiling selfie of myself.
Me: I still have to throw on some makeup and my dress. The limo will be here at five.
Winston: I can’t wait to see your face all made up knowing I get to make you cry it off later when you’re choking on my dick.
I send him some emojis sticking their tongue out.
Me: I’ll send you a picture when I’m done. I expect endless amounts of praise.
Winston: You’re the only girl I know who shamelessly begs for compliments. They don’t count when you force them out of people