Page 14 of The Devil's Chaos

Each bolt of lightning brought me closer to her.

It wasn’t until I reached the doorway that her eyes widened at the realization that a hooded stranger was rushing toward her, which sent her stepping backward. I tried to reach her before she tripped over the chair. My hands reached out to her even when she tripped, slipping between my fingers and slamming her head into the corner of the patio table.

I rushed to her side, scooping her in my arms, carrying her back to the bedroom. I laid her gently on the comforter and frantically checked for any signs of injury to her head, feeling a pang of guilt for inadvertently causing her harm. The storm raged on outside, the raindrops hammering against the windows like an urgent message trying to break through. She stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open to meet mine, revealing the depths of her emerald-green eyes. I expected her to recoil from me in fear, but her confused expression was replaced by recognition.

There was no fear.

There was just a glimmer of understanding in her eyes.

“It’syou,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the howling wind. “Why are you in my apartment?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Because of the business with my father?” Her voice held a hint of steel beneath the softness, a subtle warning that she remembered what I’d said in the dressing room.

“Not just because of that,” I replied, my voice low and steady despite the chaos of the storm inside me. I watched as her gaze flickered with a mixture of emotions, uncertain whether sheshould be afraid or resign herself to whatever fate she thought she deserved.

She sat up slowly, wincing as she touched the tender spot on her head, then turned her attention back to me.

“You could have just knocked on the door, you know,” she said calmly. “Breaking in isn’t exactly the best way to gain someone’s trust.”

I couldn’t help but offer a small, rueful smile at her words. “I suppose I’m not known for making the best decisions regarding certain matters.”

She regarded me momentarily as if trying to decipher what I meant. “I’m not sure what you think I know about my father’s business, but I can tell you that you are playing a dangerous game. One that will put you in a six-foot grave if you’re not careful.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m not worried.”

Her eyes narrowed, studying me intently as if searching for any sign of fear or deceit. “Do you even know who my father is? What he and my brother are capable of?” She shook her head with resignation. “Even to their own family?”

I met her gaze directly, “Do you know what I am capable of, little lamb?”

“Little lamb? Why do you call me that?”

“To your family, you are their sacrificial lamb,” I stated casually, as if it were really as simple as that. My words were cold and calculated, hiding the beast inside within me that craved nothing more than to tear her apart.

My favorite.

She flinched at the coldness in my tone. “Go to Hell.”

“I am Hell, little lamb.”

“Stop calling me that!” Her voice rose, her eyes ablaze with fire as she pushed herself off the bed, standing tall despite the unease that danced in her gaze. I could see the internal strugglewithin her, the desire to stand her ground warring with the uneasiness of confronting a stranger in her own home.

I stood up, moving a step closer, closing the physical distance between us as if drawn by an invisible force as I whispered against her ear. “You can resist all you want, little lamb, but you can’t deny the truth staring you in the face.”

She bristled under my close proximity, her jaw clenched tight, her fists balling to her sides as she glared up at me. “I’m not some helpless victim for you to prey on. I won’t be intimidated by your games.”

I could feel the tension between us, the unspoken challenge hanging heavy like a shroud. But beneath her façade of bravery and strength, a weariness was etched on her face. I admired her spirit and the way she held herself with such resolve.

It only made me want to break her even more. Show her how good it could feel to submit to me. To accept the power I would give her when she was mine. A power she never dreamed of.

“You have no right to barge into my life like this,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. She thought I wouldn’t notice, but I prided myself on being observant—looking for little changes in behavior or gestures that would otherwise go unnoticed by others. So, when her eyes moved to my lips so quickly I almost missed it or the way she bit her lip in hesitation, I knew she was more affected by my presence than she let on.

“Maybe not,” I started, my voice softer now, “but rights mean nothing when fate has already intertwined our paths.”

She scoffed, a bitter smile twisting her lips. “You speak in riddles and cryptic bullshit. What do you want from me?”

I took another step closer, our breaths mingling in the charged space between us. “Answers,” I admitted, my gaze unwavering as it bore into hers. “Answers only you can provide.”

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