Page 102 of In Love with the Devil

She moans.

“I need you to wake up.”

“Asher…” She cries with her eyes still closed. “Let me die. Please.”

“Like hell I will.” I smile at the ridiculousness of her pleading and push her hair back.

“Asher, it’s not… right.”

She retches, so I turn her on her side, but nothing comes out. It’s good if she vomits everything so that the drug can get out of her system. I stick my finger into her throat and hold her down until she’s only vomiting air. She doesn’t wake up, but her heart rate slowly comes back down.

When I return from filling my tub with warm water, I carry her to clean her up. The water helps her stop shaking. Her own whisperings wake her. “I’m sorry," she says with tear full eyes when she sees me.

“For what?”

“For everything. I’m sorry.”

I nod, sigh, and push her hair back. “You really messed up this time, pretty bird.”

“You killed him?” she asks, looking like a sad little girl, pushing her bottom lip out with tears trailing her face.

“He lied, betrayed, and hurt you. Most importantly, he touched what's mine. Those are not things anyone gets outlive. I’ve made that quite clear to you.”

I can see the pain that fills every cell on her face at the confirmation of his death, and I want to wring her neck for it, but resist.

“Did he ever do this to you? Share you with someone?”

“No. You’re the one that made him–”

The rage emanating from my eyes and the smile spreading on my lips lets her know it’s time to shut the fuck up. She’s not clear of mind yet and doesn’t know the truth. She’ll soon learn who she “married.” Instead of drowning her, I decide to change the subject.

“I brought you a big wedding gift.” My smile is in my tone as I speak words I know terrify her, and I enjoy seeing the horror on her face. I forgot how beautiful she looks when she’s scared, how addicting it is to see it paralyzing her.

A large part of me is raging inside at the fact that she was this naïve and got herself into so much trouble, all in the name of betraying me. I’m only calm because I’ve been working on my temper for the last three years, for her. But, despite the improvement, every man has a limit, and she’s definitely surpassed mine by several miles. I’ll punish her some more.

Punishment number one was allowing that loser to fuck her when she didn’t want it and was sick. Punishment numbers two and three will come up in a few days when she’s stable enough to not worry me anymore and conscious enough to feel all the pain.

She’s in and out as I bathe her, lay her on my bed to sleep, and lock the neck brace onto her. Just when I’m about to leave the room, to clean up the mess, with her eyes closed, she whines, “Asher, don’t leave me.”

My heart flutters. The little bitch still has that much power over me. Her palm searches the other side of the bed. “Asher,” she cries again.

I sigh and walk away. Now I have to get rid of the chauffeur and the limousine. We’ll be lucky to make it out of this country alive.

Chapter forty-eight

Because I missed you

Astoria

My mind bombards me with the disgusting memories, and I try to fight them. I don’t want it to be true. Not after how much I fell in love with Sebastian’s smile and family. I don’t want him to enjoy watching me being raped and then do it himself. I hear myself screaming, but I cannot open my eyes.

“Astoria. Astoria, wake up!”

I’m kicking, pushing, and I bolt up, screeching so loud that it hurts my own ears. Arms anchor me to the mattress while I try to catch my breath. Both my hands rake through my hair and I don’t realize what I’ve been whispering.

“It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen. Not real.” I stop repeating it and just stare at the white comforter covering my legs as reality slips into me like lava, slowly burning away the last trace of happiness. I dared to stop being careful for too fucking long. Oh,it had been so delicious, and like a glutton, I was willing to ignore all the signs.

Julian’s arms move away from around my waist. That’s when I realize he dressed me in a white satin short nightgown. If I survive whatever he does to me next, someday, I’ll ask him what’s his thing with white nightgowns. The weight on my shoulders makes me raise my hand to my neck to find the metal neck brace. I sweep my fingers around it, sigh at my current state, trapped, and look to him. “I’m ready.”

---