Page 30 of My Bloody Valentine

“Come for me, Maya,” he growls, his voice hoarse. “Let me feel it.”

His words guide me over the edge as ecstasy claims me completely. He follows, his own release intense and violent. We’re both breathless, spent, but still, he doesn’t pull away. He whispers dark, sensual promises in my ear, and I shiver, my body already responding to his words.

Then, slowly, I wake, the dream fading, leaving me restless. I roll over, my heart still pounding. The sheets are tangled around me, and I’m sticky with sweat. It takes a moment to remember where I am. It was just a dream. But it felt so real.

The doorbell rings. My heart skips as I jump out of bed and grab my robe, wrapping it around myself before answering the door.

A delivery man holds an extravagant bouquet of deep red roses mixed with black calla lilies. The arrangement screams Adrian—elegant, dramatic, with a sinister edge.

“Sign here, please.”

I hesitate before I scrawl my signature. I bring the flowers inside, their heady perfume filling my apartment. A black envelope nestles among the blooms, my name written in Adrian’s precise silver script.

My little critic,

Join me for a Valentine’s Day lunch at the boutique today at noon. Let me explain everything you’ve been running from. You deserve the truth, and I promise complete honesty.

No games. No tricks. Just answers.

-A

The card falls from my fingers. My throat tightens as I catch the faintest whiff of chocolate from the paper. That familiar craving stirs in my chest—the need to understand him, to taste the darkness that drew me in.

I pick up my phone, thumb hovering over his number. The smart choice would be to ignore this, to keep my distance. But the questions that have plagued me since that night demand answers. What drives him to kill? How does he choose his victims? And why me?

The roses watch me, their deep crimson petals like drops of blood against the black lilies. Everything Adrian does carries meaning. This isn’t just a Valentine’s Day gesture—it’s a message. The roses represent passion, but those black lilies mean death and resurrection.

My fingers are unsure as I type.

I’ll be there.

The response comes instantly.

I look forward to it.

I sink onto my couch, wondering if I’ve made a terrible mistake. But I need to know the truth, even if it destroys me.

My phone buzzes against the coffee table, breaking through my spiral of thoughts. Amelia’s name flashes on the screen.

Hey girl! Valentine’s plans tonight? We’re both tragically single, so I say we hit up that new wine bar on Michigan Ave. Drown our sorrows in some expensive reds?

I smile despite myself. Trust Amelia to try cheering me up, even if she doesn’t know the full extent of what’s happening. A night out sounds perfect—and gives me the perfect excuse to keep my lunch with Adrian brief.

Count me in. I’ve got a lunch meeting, but I’m free after three.

I text back, careful not to mention who the meeting is with. Amelia would freak out if she knew I was seeing Adrian again.

Yessss! Meet me at my place at seven? We can pre-game with that bottle of prosecco I’ve been saving.

Perfect.

I reply, already feeling lighter. A girls’ night is exactly what I need to clear my head after whatever Adrian has planned.

My phone buzzes again.

Wear that black dress that makes your ass look amazing. Never know who might be out tonight

I laugh and shake my head. Trust Amelia to already be planning my outfit.

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