Page 113 of Darkest Deception

I spin around and find my stalker—or, rather, Helia—standing in my room.

He wears combat boots, black cargo pants, and a black hoodie, and stands tall and unmoving in the middle of my balcony as the curtains flare aggressively.

My words climb up my throat and so does my scream, but I shut it down.

He takes a long step inside, moving the curtains out of his way, then another step, and my heart rate spikes.

“Seems like someone missed me.” He tilts his head. The faint sunset behind him casts him in shadow and makes him look all the more threatening.

“It’s you,” I breathe out, my hands starting to shake at my sides.

A huff of a laugh leaves him when he looks all around my tidy room.

Nothing is out of place. Thankfully, my laptop is shut. So he can’t see what I was working on.

I don’t want him to know about it until he tells me the truth.

“Yes, me, little sin.” He takes another step towards me, and fear scratches at my throat like nails on a chalkboard.

“No,” I whisper, willing for courage to fill me. “It’s Emerald, isn’t it?”

He stops in his tracks.

This time, I take the step towards him.

“Isn’t it?” I repeat.

His jaw tics.

A laugh trickles out of me. A mocking laugh.

“Had fun playing with me… Helia?”

I take hold of his hood and throw it off.

There he stands.

“You—”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t has the intention to.

His, it’s so fucking haunting. He doesn’t look like a CEO or a friend of Remo. He looks like a killer. His eyes hold this empty, yet psychotic look in them, and I realise I never even knew Helia. This man in front of me isn’t him.

He’s not Helia. This isn’t who I thought Helia was.

“You not only tormented me in my workplace, not only took everything from me, but you did that when I was in my own home too, in the security of my bedroom,” I chant it all with a gasp. “You took, took, and took and still you weren’t satisfied?”

He shakes his head, his hair falling into his eyes. “No, Ambrose—”

“You lost the right to call me that the moment you decided to use two faces to haunt me! You made me believe the Madden sisters sent you. You made me believe someone wanted my death. You made me believe I should just wish for death. You want know what’s ironic? I have finally given up. I don’t care anymore.” I sigh.

“What?” His brows crinkle. “No, you are supposed to always fight, Ambrose. You can hit me, punch me, throw insults, and I will take it, but please don’t give up on yourself.” His voice sounds so pained, so broken, that it almost makes me feel bad for him.

“So what? So you could get my company and go on with your life? Be free of the problem you have?” I push him, I shove him, and he lets me.

Angry tears burn my eyes.

“Was seducing me and making me fall into your trap part of this whole big plan of yours? Was it? To bring me to my knees? You wanted me to bend to your will, and you accomplished that.” I sob.

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