Page 23

I sat on my couch in the living room, both legs perched on the coffee table. In my hand was the mini portrait he’d sent me, fingers absently tracing the edges of the painting.

I still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that we had sex again, and boy, was it good! I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him until I gave in to the temptation that almost consumed me.

Why did he have this much of an effect on me? Why couldn’t I resist him or stand my ground when he was around me? It was like he had me enchanted, as the more I tried to resist him, the weaker I got.

Raziel now knew my true desire; he knew that I was drawn to him, and that knowledge would be the end of me. I should have done a better job at masking my emotions; maybe that way, he wouldn’t have seen right through my tough exterior.

But then again, Raziel was a psycho— a psycho that I couldn’t bring myself to hate, no matter how hard I tried. He was obsessed with me, possessive, and that only made him more dangerous than he already was.

My face contorted into a faint frown, and I tossed the portrait aside, cupping my face in my palms. That wasn’t a gift from a gentleman. No. It was nothing but a Trojan horse with the primary purpose of spying on me.

I’d found the tiny camera and microphone strategically hidden on the portrait after wondering how Raziel got to know about the masturbation. There was no way that he could have spied on me through my window; it was covered at the time it happened.

Curiosity led me to find the possible ways he might have watched me, and then it clicked: the chances of a hidden camera. I ransacked my place, looking for any sign of alien tech in my house. It didn’t take long before it crossed my mind to examine the beautiful gift box he’d sent to me.

Luckily, I’d found the devices and smashed them, both embarrassed and mad that he had the audacity to invade my private life.

The thought of him watching me masturbate sent shivers down my spine. And the fact that I had called out his name while at it was super embarrassing. Raziel had a hold on me, and I hated it; I hated feeling trapped and suffocated. How could even his absence have so much of an effect on me? It was like Raziel didn’t need to be physically present to control my actions.

I let out a frustrated groan, the couch crunching under my weight as I slid my head down to the left armrest. My mind was flooded with thoughts of Raziel and the way he fucked me on that yacht. His words still echoed in my head, and I couldn’t seem to get him out.

“No one else can spoil you the way that can…. No one can make you feel the way that I made you feel…. You’re mine.”

As much as I tried to deny it, the truth remained that he was right. I was drawn to him alone, and no man could ever touch me or ignite the kind of fire in me that he had sparked. My heart burned for him, yearned for him, and as annoying as it was, it was the truth.

My pride was wounded, and I was both angry and intrigued by the way he made me beg.

Like that hadn’t been enough, Raziel made me admit that I wanted to feel him inside me again.

No matter how hard I tried to block him out of my head, I simply couldn’t. It wasn’t just the pull of his dangerous charm that I couldn’t resist; it was everything about him. Without even trying, Raziel Tarasov seemed to control my life and consume my thoughts all day, every day.

Memories of the way he’d fucked me like a wild animal on the loose came rushing back into my mind. I recalled the sounds of my own moans and the feeling of having him buried deep inside me. Just thinking about it alone caused my core to tremble, and a cold shiver sprinted down my spine.

Just then, the doorbell rang, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. Finally, a distraction. I sat on the couch, my eyes darting toward the entrance as I wondered who it was. I wasn’t expecting anyone—hold on a minute.

My breath lodged in my throat, and my heart stopped for a second.

Shit! Please, God, don’t let it be Raziel Tarasov.

I wouldn’t be able to maintain my cool if it turned out to be him.

The bell rang again, and I flinched at the sound, my heart pounding in my chest. I contemplated ignoring the bell until whoever was outside got tired and left. But then, on second thought, what if it wasn’t Raz?

I drew a deep breath, summoning the courage to rise to my feet. It didn’t make any sense that I lived my life in fear of this man. I’d given him too much control over me, and it was high I put an end to it.

So what if it was Raziel standing outside my door?

I strode over to the entrance and hesitated before grabbing the door handle. It gave a faint creak as I opened it, and my gaze fell on the unexpected visitor standing by my porch.

My brows arched, and my heart felt a bit lighter—a signature effect of the visitor’s presence.

“Surprise!” Bella exclaimed theatrically, her tone mild and soft as a warm smile spread across her face.

I mirrored her grin, my eyes sparkling with excitement. However, my brain was unable to connect with my mouth and produce a sentence. At first, I wondered how she knew where I lived; then I remembered her dropping me off after the hospital visit.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced,” she said, her gaze holding on to mine. “I was in the neighborhood and decided to say hello—oh! I come bearing gifts.” She revealed a bottle of wine after the last statement.

“Your timing is impeccable,” I said, admiring the bottle in her hand. “I could really use a drink right now.” I massaged my temples, my low voice hinting at my frustration.

She squinted her eyes, her head cocking to the side. “Are you okay?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.

I exhaled sharply, gesturing with my hand. “Come on in.”

I headed back into the house, and she followed behind me, her heels clicking against the floor.

“It's a cozy space you’ve got here,” she said, her eyes roaming around the living room. “Nice decor.”

“Thanks.” I beamed at her. “Please, make yourself comfortable.” I gestured at the nearest couch.

My place was small and simple, with a few plush sofas and couches, all within a budget. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings and portraits that added to the ambiance of the space. The room was illuminated by a chandelier’s warm glow and the soft lighting of my table lamps.

Although the space was not exquisite, it somehow earned me praise from the very few visitors I had.

“What can I get you?” I asked, strolling over to the kitchen.

“I’m more interested in what’s up with you. So, let’s just start with the wine, shall we?” she replied, staring at me from the living room.

I paused, staring back at her. This was her first time at my place, and I felt the need to at least entertain her with something of mine.

“Don’t look at me like that. Just grab two glasses and get over here,” she said, her tone smooth and teasing.

I chuckled, shaking my head as I withdrew two champagne flutes from the cabinet and returned to the living room. Bella was already seated on a couch with the bottle standing tall on the coffee table. Gently, I set the flutes beside it, raised the bottle, and popped it open with a deft twist.

“Now, that’s more like it.” Bella laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

The gentle glug-glug of wine flowing into the flutes as I poured released the fragrance of fermented grapes into the air. Once done, I set the bottle on the coffee table and sank into the couch inches from Bella.

The leather crunched beneath her weight as she adjusted and faced me, her left arm resting on the couch’s backrest. “Alright. What’s going on? Talk to me—it’s a safe space.” She beamed, her voice light and playful.

“Hold on,” I said, reaching out to grab a flute. My fingers wrapped around its stem, and I lifted it to my lips, draining a significant amount from the glass.

“Uh…I’d take it easy if I were you,” Bella said, her tone tinged with caution.

After swallowing a generous mouthful, I lowered the flute back on the table, a small amount of wine remaining.

“Is it that bad—what you’re going through?” she asked, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Honestly…” I began, letting out a soft sigh. “I don’t know, Bella.” I held her gaze, my voice laced with a hint of helplessness.

“Lemme guess: There’s a man in the picture,” she teased, her lips curling into a faint but radiant smile.

I scoffed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “What’re you, psychic?”

She shrugged her shoulders, her smile broadening as she moved closer to me. “Alright. What exactly is going on, Clary?” A glint of solemnity flashed across her face.

“I’m stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea,” came my vague response, my eyes pinned on her.

“Yeah, I can tell, so I’m gonna need you to be a little bit more specific than that,” she said.

I paused for a moment, hesitating before saying, “Bella, I think I’m falling in love with the devil.”

Her brows rose gradually, but her expression remained soft and welcoming. “Now, we’re getting somewhere.”

“It doesn’t matter how hard I try to stop thinking about him—I just can’t.” I lowered my head, buried my face in my palms, and exhaled sharply. “It’s like there’s something about him that keeps pulling me in. Argh!” I groaned in frustration, smoothing my hair backward.

“May I ask why you’re fighting this feeling you have for him?” Her eyes bore into mine.

“Because Bella, this man is the devil himself and—and whatever this is…it’s all shades of wrong.” The words tumbled out of me in a frantic rush. “The worst part is that I know he’s evil, and I know what we have is dangerous, but….” I paused, shaking my head, my voice trailing off. “…I can’t help it, Bella.”

She stared at me in silence, listening, her hand reaching out to touch mine.

I continued, my voice shaking as I expressed myself with trembling lips. “I feel so attached to him, and there’s this…this insatiable desire I have for him that burns beyond the physical.” As I spoke, I demonstrated with my hands, my voice dripping with frustration.

Bella gently squeezed against my fingers, her soft expression lingering on me.

“Do you know what annoys me the most?” I scoffed dismissively. “He’s obsessed with me.”

“Obsessed?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I blurted out. “He keeps tabs on me, has his men following me around.” My fingertips rubbed my temples in a massage motion.

I felt a slight pang at the back of my head and reached out to pick up my glass of wine.

“Maybe it’s Raziel's twisted way of trying to keep you safe,” Bella said, her voice audible but flat.

I drained the remainder of the wine in my glass and squinted at her. “Keep me safe? What’s that supposed to mean?” I lowered the glass back on the table, suddenly feeling a little dizzy.

“Well, we live in a shady world, Clary, and you never know when trouble comes knocking on your door,” she said, her voice dropping to an eerie whisper. “You never know when you’re staring right in the face of danger.” Her voice trailed off, and her smile vanished.

There was something sinister about her response, something dark that I’d yet to process. And then it hit me; I hadn’t mentioned his name to Bella, so how did she know who I was talking about?

“Hold on. I never told you his name was Raziel,” I said, feeling the tension hovering around us.

As I tried to make sense of this sudden change in atmosphere, my vision started to blur, and my head grew heavy. I pressed my eyes tightly, my hand flying to massage my temple as the world around me began to swirl. My heart raced in my chest, a misty veil covering my eyes.

“What’s the matter, Clary, feeling a little light-headed?” Bella's voice echoed as if the entire room was empty.

My vision was hazy, and everything in my sight appeared to be double. The flute fell off my hand, splattering on the floor, and I tried to rise to my feet. Too weak and faint, I dropped to the ground, struggling to keep my eyes open.

It was the wine. Bella had spiked my drink. She drugged me. But why?

Bella rose off the couch and towered over me, her voice fading into the background as she said, “Nighty night, Clarice.”

The self-satisfied smirk on her face was the last thing I saw before my eyes shut, and I drifted unconscious, out like a light.