Page 71 of Moonlit Temptation

It always made people stop on their walks to admire, questions in their eyes.

Who lives here? What did they do to get such a home? What does the inside look like?

If only they knew about the man who lived inside, they wouldn’t give a single damn about the house.

Not when he was designed in the stars by an architect with a vengeful streak. Too striking for this earth, too cold to welcome people in.

A snake ready to dig his venom into your veins, poisoning you with passion before leaving you to perish alone.

Don’t come.

His text burned in my brain, punctured my heart.

Fueled my anger.

The moment I read it, I wanted to scream, wanted to throw my phone out the window of the car as we raced ninety miles per hour toward him.

I wanted to send him the middle finger emoji.

I wanted to do a lot of things in the moment, but in the end, I did nothing except sit in the back seat of my father’s car, stoking the roasting coals of my anger.

Saint was radio silent for days, and the first time he decided to turn communication back on was to say that?

Don’t come.

No.

Fuck that.

And I hope when Saint saw the dress I was wearing tonight, he’d regret his words as well.

I was wearing a short, skintight red dress that hugged my body in a way to trick the eye that I actually had curves instead of the boyish twig figure that I did have. I even exchanged my combat boots for another pair of boots. These ones had a heel and ran all the way up my thighs.

I wanted to make Saint crazy when he saw, knowing he wouldn’t be able to touch me.

Now the little torture number felt even tighter.

I hoped when he saw me, he got down on his knees and ate his words.

I wanted groveling. The deepest and sincerest apology.

But as we walked through the side gate that led to the private courtyard of Saint’s main and guest houses, where a lap pool stretched between them, I knew I wasn’t going to get any of it.

The stewing anger inside me shot higher when I noticed it wasn’t a dinner party after all.

It was just a party.

People littered the backyard. It wasn’t a casual event either. Guests were dressed up as they moved around the pool, and even the ones in swimsuits dripped with expensive accessories.

Uniformed waitstaff breezed past us as music spilled out of hidden speakers.

I searched for him in the people lounging with drinks in the pool, searched for him in the people that clung to the perimeter exchanging gossip like favors.

The coward. The liar. The heartbreaker.

Don’t come.

Too late. Should’ve texted me sooner.

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