Don’t Do This | Roman Godfrey
There was a lust inside of the Godfrey heir, not only for sex, but for power, to have somebody’s blood running from his perfect lips, tainting whatever expensive shirt that he was adorned in.
It was a mutual agreement, to have him contact strange men that allowed leeches to hang carelessly off of their old and corrupt bodies, it was no surprise that the odd diet was no longer satisfying him.
The realisation was always there, closeted in the back of your mind, however you refused to let it out. There was no other option than to believe in him, if you didn’t then who would?
Peter was gone, he ran with the wind when Letha had been confirmed as dead. Now it was just you and your up stuck friend Roman, fighting for his will and whatever else came your way, such as his rights to his inheritance.
That didn’t change him much, but his best friend leaving had. The young man became somewhat colder, refusing to wrap his long and clinging arms around your exposed frame once you chose to spend the night every now and then.
It was some kind of distraction for the both of you, and god knew that the green eyed monster was in dire need of it. The entanglement of your bodies was nothing more than a nightly escapade, one to clear minds and keep hearts remaining locked. However it wasn’t exactly so simple for you.
Oh no, it was far more complicated than that. There was love and hate, both casting opinions about your upir bed mate and business partner, conflicting the matters of your heart and mind. If someone were here, whether it be Peter or Letha, they could help you solve these flooding emotions.
There was no denying that you didn’t want to feel any of them, but they always returned each time that you saw the giant. Even now, as he stood before you, a recognisable tint of red upon his pout.
“You broke the deal.” You stated, choosing not to grow angry. If his inner beast was hungry, it didn’t matter if he cared for you, the monster wouldn’t consider that factor. It would rather sink its launching teeth into a vein that have a tame conversation. “Who was it?”
His head tilted to behind the island of the kitchen, his thumb coming up to wipe the leftovers from his mouth. “Some delivery guy, funnily enough, he had a letter for you.”
He plucked the paper that had blood stained fingerprints over it, picking out the contents and opening them, cleaning his throat before he began to read the letter aloud.
The thought had you squirming, there were many things that you kept from Roman, whatever this was being one of them.
“Dearest Miss (Y/N),” he began, the introduction already having you on edge. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as it wasn’t anything from Peter, if Roman found out that you were in cahoots with him, well, you weren’t entirely sure how that scenario would end.
“I am writing to you, to give you the information that your blood has the ability to keep Mr Godfrey alive. Seeing as you queried on the behalf of this, I can also see it possible for you to be a supplementary food source, however the idea will need to be tested first, in a practical sense, from Yohan.”
Nodding your head at the contents of the letter, your action only seemed to infuriate Roman thus more. He bit his lip, trying to refrain from speaking his mind, but it was well known in his bloodline that it was hardly manageable.
“Look, I can explain...” it was a gesture of good will, offering answers to someone that sought them, but still, even as you had tried to diffuse the tension, it only seemed to thicken it.
“Explain what?” He barked rather harshly, coming to stand before you as he peered below, his envious pools boaring into your human soul. “Explain that you were willing to let Pryce play doctor, just so I could, unknowingly may I add, drink your tested blood?”
As his words hit home, he raked his hands through his locks, tugging on them, trying to relieve some of the stress. Sex wouldn’t cut it this time, that was a one way ticket to distraction, and he by no means wanted to disregard this matter at hand.
Your lip quivered as he spat words, Roman wasn’t scaring you. He was making you realise how inconsiderate you had been by not consulting him in this ploy. But even if you had, there was nothing to say that he would react any better.
“I’m going to kill him.” Roman stated, air seething through his clenching teeth as his hands formed infuriated fists. “I’m going to have Pryce’s fucking scientist head for this shit!”
“Don’t.” It was a plain argument, that did nothing for demotivating him on his planned hunt. “It was my fault, it was my idea.”
“He agreed to your stupid fucking idea though!” He yelled, grabbing his keys as he was intent on reaching the door, that was until your hand grasped his elbow, tugging him back with the effort of all of your weight. “Let me go.”
It was an order. It was a command, and at that your grip loosened, allowing him to skulk off, and you’d have to wait until tomorrow to know whether or not Pryce had survived.













