Chapter8

#Chapter8

The auction

Ian's POV

/"Papa please./"

Hit.

/"It's obvious you can't stop me./"

Hit.

/"Such an abomination for a devil to have angelic wings./"

Hit.

/"Ian, you have to stop.../" I threw a heavy punch on the punching bag in front of me and sent the person behind it to the end of the room. She landed with a big thud and laid on the clobbered floor, looking at me with pitiful eyes.

/"Ah!/" I yelled, grabbing a handful of my hair and knelt on the floor.

My mind was playing with me. I was going insane. I glanced around the room that was dimly lit by the moonlight, tearing through the grate on the ceiling. The whole place smelt like sweat and an Avante Garde fabric.

I'm guessing it was from my newly purchased boxing gloves.

Water was dripping from the cracked ceiling and it drained the concrete floor. This was where I came to train, and let out all my pain.