Chapter 10, Dangerous Roommate (Cult of Eros #2, Ongoing Update)

Dangerous Roommate Novel by M. Gaspary Featured Image - Free Chapters
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Here’s chapter 10 of the new book, “Dangerous Roommate.” Enjoy reading. Let me know your thoughts about this chapter in the comment section below.

No person could describe him as incompetent. Stefan thought, remembering peers who asked him how he could excel in anything he did. Although he was too young to join Madam, although he knew he could do anything with the sheer force of willpower now as an adult, although he had always been this assertive and self-aware, he found himself here—clueless of how his life would end in her hands.

He felt stupid. He felt lost, trying to figure out what was truly going on while, at the same time, knowing how he could get out of this. In hindsight, he thought the only way he could do that was to have Mia again. To achieve that goal, he hated to accept that he had to go through this hell.

If this were God’s miracle, it was something he hadn’t asked for, even though he kind of accepted the damning consequences of his actions. That this punishment was something he deserved, though a part of him screamed it didn’t make sense. After all, being here, standing before Madam Gertrude, wasn’t because he had a choice. He was never asked to participate, as though his voice didn’t mean anything.

He wasn’t given a chance to experience a home or feel like he deserved such luxury. Even after becoming a father, he wasn’t free to do what he wanted to do. His life was still tied to his grandmother, his Lola, and now, his daughter in her hostage, too.

While he kept his eyes on the old woman, his mind wandered, picturing the kind of life he wanted to have. As he did so, he suddenly found himself reeling the brief moments he had with Frank, remembering the warmth he felt, how he looked at him, how he smiled at him, how his voice sounded when he said ‘Thank you.’

Though it didn’t make any sense to him, he hated to admit that Frank made him feel something. Something like hope. Though he knew this was a mere fantasy, his gut was telling him to hold on.

“Why are you smiling?” the woman’s voice came through his ears, forcing him to return to his senses.

That smile faded as Stefan blinked for a moment and cleared his throat to ease. “Nothing.”

“You wouldn’t have to suffer like this if you’d have only been a good boy.” She paused to reach for her cigarette and lit it up.

“Why did you have to use her against me?”

After puffing a cloud of smoke, she eyed him, enjoying the show unfolding before her. “If you hadn’t said the magic word, Mia wouldn’t have been taken from you. Simple,” she said nonchalantly.

“She’s your granddaughter!”

“How could I like such a brat? She came from a whore.” She screamed. Her eyes widened, filled with anguish. Her body tingled, feeling her temperature rising.

“You may hate her mother. But I’m still your grandson. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” He looked at her, glowering, revealing his bloodshot eyes. Hate spilled all over his face—his eyebrows and lips twitched, his nostrils flared, and his face turned scarlet. His body was blanketed with fury and worry from head to toe. Definitely not a pleasant experience.

“Your parents were different. Your mom was mine. Your dad was a master thief, just like you. But unlike you, he was rather stupid.”

“Because he left? That’s why he’s stupid?” His voice became loud and scissor-sharp.

“Yes. If he wouldn’t have left, we won’t be hiding like this. If not because of your imbecile father, my daughter would have still been alive.”

“How could you blame my dad for my mom’s death when it was you—You’re the one responsible for all of this!”

Gertrude walked in strides and then slapped his face. It was a loud smack that echoed and then dropped, permeating the silence between them.

“Why won’t you just let me go?” Stefan asked in an edgy voice as he looked at her. It was as though he wasn’t looking at his grandmother but an enemy. He thought it would have been better if his life had been different. He thought about how it could have been if this woman’s life had been different. In his mind and heart, she was a family. His mom came from her. They shared blood.

But why was she treating him like this? Why did she want him to live a miserable life? Do grandmothers act like that? Weren’t they supposed to be the one who would ensure everyone in the family were safe and sound? Weren’t they supposed to be the ones who would remind everyone not to forget about family, traditions—love?

The longer he looked into her eyes, he felt the painful, stabbing pain in his chest. Not because he had a heart attack, though it felt like that. Watching her staring at him like he was nothing but a useful tool was painful, let alone noticing how unremorseful her eyes were.

She flashed a smug on her face and cocked an eyebrow. “As if you have a choice.” She let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head as though she couldn’t believe she was hearing this from him. Especially in that tone. The sweet, subtle sound of him begging was a piece of beautiful music in her ears.

Hearing those words escape her mouth made Stefan feel like lashing out. As much as he wanted to give in to his urge for justice, he couldn’t. If he would rather act by impulse, he wouldn’t be prepared for what Madam could do to his daughter. The fact that she just took her and didn’t do any harm was enough of a compromise.

“I have Frank with me.” He stuttered.

Her eyes popped and then narrowed in suspicion. “What do you mean he’s with you?”

“He’s living with me. I have the artist in the cabin.”

To her delight, a smile wasn’t enough to express her satisfaction. She rose from the couch and walked in his direction, clapping her hands. When she stood near him, she stared at him as though she was studying his face for a second.

Stefan gulped, trying to keep his composure intact. He stared back, though he felt like running to find his daughter—wherever she was right now. He thought if she would ask him further questions, he would be in trouble. Because, at this point, his throat was dry, closing up around a sound. Even if he said something, he might put himself in further danger, knowing how Madam was.

“That’s great news,” she purred and then let out a laugh. She shook her head. “I can’t believe you can do this, Stefan. You’re better than your father. You went beyond my expectations. I wasn’t wrong for choosing you.” She gave him the last look, a long look, before she patted his shoulder and walked past him, leaving.

Without looking behind, Stefan stood still, clenching his fists, feeling his insides churning. And it went on until he saw her men tailing her and left the room. Only when he barely heard footsteps did he feel the air a little less close. For a minute, he looked in the distance, revealing the sharp look in his eyes, feeling more determined than he already was.

Author’s Note:

Thank you so much for spending time reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did when I wrote this part months ago. This chapter, in particular, reminded me of those times when I sat before my desk, seemingly prepared to type in words, but I struggled to keep it up.

It took an external motivation to get it through, and, at that time, the NaNoWriMo event was upcoming. At that time, I thought, “This could be a great opportunity to try and give this a shot one more time. You’d done an excellent job with ‘The Rival,’ so you could do it, Mecyll.”

You know, it’s easier said than done because writing a chapter with a clear intent to finish it requires more than just a skill. Since I started writing fiction, I realized how much this work demands my ability to be naked and the guarantees to answer whether I was mentally, emotionally, and spiritually prepared to face my fears, conscious or unconscious.

So, being able to write this down meant I managed despite the countless times dancing around with depression and enjoying the roller coaster rides my anxiety provided me.

This is why I don’t know how to thank you for your support, regardless of the scale or contribution size, from sharing my work with others or buying my books. It doesn’t matter because, for me, every small act you show is appreciated.

Again, thank you, and have a great day!

If you like to support my writing life, here’s what you can do:

  1. Get a copy of “The Rival” Uncensored Gay Romance Novel.
  2. Read “Dr. Clay” (Cult of Eros #1)
  3. Check out my latest book, “Non-Native Speakers Only.”
  4. Find more writing tips on my website (i.e., content writing, freelance writing, copywriting, self-publishing, novel writing, and many more!)
  5. Subscribe to my Substack newsletter.

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