Page 19

The city was alive this afternoon, bustling with activities as pedestrians crowded the sidewalks, going about their daily lives. Towering skyscrapers stretched above like giant sentinels, their glass and steel facades glinting in the sunlight.

Impatient drivers blared their horns as cars, buses, and taxis rumbled through the streets. The atmosphere vibrated with the hum of engines, the wailing of distant sirens, and the chatter of pedestrians.

The laughter, the music, and the calls from street vendors and performers added to the city’s loveliness, enticing passersby to stop and sample their wares. The air was filled with the sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee, exotic spices, and roasting nuts, all teasing my senses.

The city’s rhythm enveloped me as I walked through the crowd, my mind occupied with one thing and one thing only: the man, Raziel.

His effect on me from the last time we met hadn’t washed off yet. His intimidating glare and sense of possessiveness still lingered, and I couldn’t shake it off. He clearly wasn’t done with me and still wanted more of what had happened the other day.

One of my biggest fears was how he would perceive me after getting what he wanted. Would he take me seriously? Would he avoid me because he’d gone between my legs? Would I be just another name he’d cross off his list once he was done taking my innocence? All these questions had overlapped in my mind.

I was worried that he’d discard me like I was some used toy to be tossed in the trash.

However, the reverse now seemed to be the case. Raziel’s reaction was the exact opposite of what I’d thought. Although a part of me was relieved that my fears hadn’t become a reality, I couldn’t help but feel like this clinginess was also another type of trouble.

Raziel’s possessiveness of me was alarming. It was almost like he was…obsessed. His words still echoed in my head, inflicting me with fear and something that I was too afraid to name. “...I own you…you're mine…”

A cold shiver sprinted down my spine, and my heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice resounding in my mind. I struggled to dispel the thoughts of him, especially because I’d almost been run over by a car the last time he was in my head.

Focus, Clary. Focus, I thought to myself, slapping my forehead while still in motion.

I honestly needed a distraction from these thoughts that wouldn’t let me think straight. I had stepped outside to clear my head and rid my mind of this man. But it was like the more I tried, the more I failed—woefully.

I could still feel his touch on my skin. Despite the amount of time that had passed since we made out, the taste of his tongue lingered on mine. Images of this man grinding into my waist with expert moves flashed through my head, reminding me of how good the experience was.

If I continued like this, I’d lose my sanity. This distraction was starting to get out of hand, and I desperately needed to get Raziel Tarasov out of my head. He’d overstayed his welcome, and these illicit thoughts that flooded my mind would only land me in more trouble.

I had enough on my plate already, and it was all because of him. I missed the days when I used to be in charge of my own thoughts, the days when nothing controlled me and when nothing crept into my mind without my permission.

Now, I felt helpless, unsure of how to get myself out of this mess I’d created. How could something so deadly feel so good?

As my mind wandered, in search of a way out— a solution to my problem—my eyes caught a small bookstore across the street. My brows narrowed slightly, knowing this was the perfect way to get Raziel out of my head, for now at least.

Reading was one of my many hobbies, something that helped keep me busy, and spotting that bookstore somehow gladdened my heart. On a whim, I stepped off the curb, looked both ways, and then crossed to the other side. My shoes clicked against the pavement as I strolled over to the shop.

I ducked into the small bookstore, its shelves packed tightly with volumes of several shapes and sizes. I walked through the tiny aisle, my eyes scanning the collection, thinking about which one to pick.

That was when I heard a very familiar voice from behind me. “Clarice?”

I recognized the voice, the sweet femininity of it, but I’d yet to place a face to it, until I turned around. My gaze met the speaker, her hair cascading down her shoulders, eyes sparkling with mirth. Our last encounter was brief, but there was no way I would forget her so easily.

My lips curled into a genuine smile, my eyes crinkling at the corners. “Bella?” I chuckled, stepping toward her. “What’re you doing here?”

“Same thing as you, I suppose,” she replied, mirroring my gesture as she slipped into my arms. “I did tell you that I’d see you around,” she teased, letting go, her eyes locked on mine.

“Yeah, you weren’t kidding.” I chuckled, a sense of comfort and peace washing over me.

Her gaze dropped to my knee for a second before returning to my face. “How’s the leg?” she asked, her tone tinged with a hint of concern.

My smile broadened, and I rolled my eyes in mock exhaustion. “Come on, you know it’s just a scratch.”

“Just checking. Is that so bad?” She laughed, stepping toward the nearest shelf. “So, what brings you to this neck of woods anyway?”

“Nothing much, just browsing for some new reads,” came my reply, my eyes darting across the collection of books.

“Same here—I swear I’m starting to run out of shelf space at home,” she said, withdrawing a book, her fingers flipping through its pages.

The enthusiasm in her voice was a clear indication that she was a fellow book lover, and that softened my heart. My lips parted into a small grin as I drew nearer. “Interesting,” I began, halting in front of her. “What kind of books are you into?”

“Hmm. A little bit of everything, I guess,” she replied, her tone light and tinged with a glint of uncertainty. “Fiction, non-fiction, mystery, sci-fi….” Her shoulders shrugged casually. “I just love getting lost in a good story.”

“Me, too.” I laughed, intrigued by how much we shared in common. “Although I like to believe that I’m a total sucker for historical fiction. There’s just something about being transported to another time and space that just…captivates me, you know?” The slight pause came when I groped for the right adjective, my voice dripping with enthusiasm.

“Ah! I know exactly what you mean, Clary.” She chuckled, closing the book in her hand and slipping it back into the collection she withdrew it from. “Personally, I’ve always been fascinated by the Victorian era.”

“Shut the front door!” I raised my brows in surprise, my eyes shining with excitement.

“I'm serious.” She laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Have you read any of the Bront? sisters?” I asked, my gaze pinned on her, eagerly awaiting her response.

“Are you kidding me? I adore Jane Eyre!” she replied, her voice shrouded by excitement.

I couldn’t help the broad smile spreading across my lips.

Bella was one of the very few individuals in my life who seemed to be drawn to the same genre of books as me. It felt good to find someone else who loved the things I loved finally.

As time went on, we continued to chat, laugh, and discuss books. Our conversation flowed easily and naturally, like we were old friends. Speaking with her helped ease my stress and reduced my anxiety.

We spent more time together at a nearby café, eating and drinking as we delved deeper into the mysterious world of books and novels. Our conversation revealed that she and I shared a lot in common, and I couldn’t help but wonder where she’d been all my life.

With Scarlett out of town, Bella was definitely going to be my new buddy. Her energy matched mine, and her presence always helped me forget all about my situation.

Before we parted ways after long hours of chatting and laughing, she gave me a book she said was her favorite. Considering that we were both essentially identical in this aspect of life, I had no doubt that I was going to love the book.

We exchanged phone numbers, and then we both went our separate ways. I was glad I stepped out when I did and that I ran into her at the bookstore. Our time together made me feel a whole lot better, and I returned home in a better state than when I left.

I strolled into my house, locked the door behind me, and headed straight into my room, my fingers rubbing my tired eyes. From the entrance, I shed my jacket and tossed it onto the nearby hanger. I took off my shoes and walked over to the bed, the wooden floor cool beneath my bare feet.

Cupping my face in my palms, I sat on the edge of the bed, letting out a soft sigh. Now that Bella wasn’t here to keep me company, my mind was once again starting to get flooded with thoughts of Raziel.

My eyes fell on the gift box he’d gotten me, and I instinctively rose to my feet, strolling over to the table. Raziel hadn’t only gotten me a dress for the dinner date the other night. Inside the box was a mini portrait, a painting of a man radiating several emotions, depicted with colorful brush strokes. I lifted the decorative box and the portrait, perching them both on the shelf across my bed.

A small smile played on the corners of my lips as I admired the thoughtfulness behind the painting. My fingers brushed over the surface of this gift, my eyes pinned on the man in the painting. For some reason, I could see my present situation in it. It was almost like the intensity of the emotions swirling around the man was a somewhat graphical representation of my own life.

I was helpless against these overwhelming thoughts of Raziel, and the more the images of him flooded my mind, the hornier I got. The tingling sensation between my legs caused my thighs to brush against each other as a heat of passion slowly spread through my body.

I wanted him so badly, and now my body was starting to tremble. My fingertips were tingling, and my heartbeat escalated by the second, leaving me breathless. I stepped away from the shelf and sat on my bed, my eyes fixed on the gift box.

Raziel was wild, dangerous, and far beyond my ability to help. Yet, that untamed part of him stirred up something inside me.

As I sat on the edge of the bed, my thoughts spiraled, seemingly out of control. Despite my attempts to push him out of my head, Raziel’s presence still lingered, consuming me from the inside and awakening feelings I struggled to suppress.

It was starting to feel hot in here, and my thighs wouldn’t stop brushing against each other. A flame of passion ignited within me, and I didn’t realize it when my hands darted to my chest. My fingers grazed my nipples, and I stared directly at the gift box, playing with my breasts over the fabric of my top.

I was so wet already just thinking about Raziel's possessiveness—his hands all over my body and his tongue in my mouth. Fuck. A spark jolted across my body, and I felt a shiver sprinting down my spine.

It was useless trying to control my appetite. I wanted him so badly, and since I couldn’t have him at the moment, I’d rather just….

My fingers grasped the waistband of my pants, and I took them off, my body sprawling on my bed with my head tipped back. I slid my hand between my legs, and my eyes widened as I felt my wetness. A soft moan escaped my lips, and my other hand darted to my chest, caressing my breasts.

I’d never done this before, but here I was, touching myself and thinking about a very dangerous man. I hated that he had so much of an effect on me, but I couldn’t help it. He had me hooked.

Fuck you, Raziel.