Page 11 of Avidian
He waves, summoning her, and I exhale quietly as an older woman steps forward. Her white hair is pulled into a tight bun, and she carries a stack of fresh towels. The sight of them almost makes me sag with relief. The thought of a hot shower or bath feels like salvation right now. I nod silently, grateful, and step toward her, ready to leave this nightmare behind—at least for tonight.
“Before you go,” Marco interrupts, stopping me in my tracks, “I want you to meet someone.”
I stiffen, already knowing I don’t have a choice. “My other son has finally decided to grace me with his presence,” Marco continues, taking on that smug delivery I hate. “I’ve told him all about my talented little demon.”
My stomach twists. His other son? Of course, he can’t resist showing me off like some circus act. I shoot Bianca an apologetic look before following Marco reluctantly. My body screams for rest, but I press on, biting the inside of my cheek and reminding myself that I’m only moments away from being alone.
Marco stops where the two men are talking at the end of the dim hallway. “This is her—Katja, my special little demon.”
One of the men steps into the flickering light.
“Katja,” he says, his tone familiar in a way that punches the air from my lungs.
I look up, and there he is, towering over me with a slight, infuriating smile. His eyes—gold-flecked and chocolate brown—lock onto mine, and my chest tightens.
“Pleasure to meet you,” he says, extending a hand. “Little demon, is it? I’m Malachi.”
The name hits me like a slap.
It’s him.
My mind races, the puzzle pieces falling into place too quickly to keep up. What a liar. His whole demeanor, his entire act—was it all a ruse? A game? His father works in trade—and not the kind you can talk about without blood on your hands.
I force myself to stay composed, though my pulse hammers in my ears.
“I’d be careful where you put that hand,” I say, my voice cutting like a blade. “Demons tend to bite.”
Marco laughs, clapping a hand lightly against my back. “She can be feisty when she’s tired. Go with Bianca. I’ll find you in the morning.”
I narrow my eyes at Malachi one last time, but his smile doesn’t falter. It’s the kind of smile that hides more than it reveals, and it infuriates me further.
I turn on my heel and follow Bianca, my steps quick and determined. I don’t look back, but I can still feel his eyes on me, watching.
Chapter Five
RULE 5 OF THE NEW ORDER: EVEN A DOG HAS TEETH—NEVER FORGET YOURS.
I finish scrubbingmy body clean and sink back into the warm water, letting it soothe my muscles. The tub—more like a small pool—is gigantic, easily big enough for three people. This entire bathroom is a testament to excess, from the sleek marble floors to the gold fixtures gleaming under the soft glow of an extravagant chandelier. It hangs in the center of the ceiling, its crystal pendants scattering tiny rainbows across the room like a private galaxy.
I let out a sigh and tilt my head back against the rim of the tub, staring at the flickering reflections. Before I got in, I checked the time, 2 a.m. This night has been relentless. I can only hope Marco doesn’t have any early-morning plans for me. Knowing him, he probably does.
The events of the night replay in my mind, refusing to settle. The haunting scene with Carmen. The bruises still faintly visible on my neck. And then Malachi, Marco’s son. My stomach twists at the thought. Good thing I didn’t fucking kiss him that night. But that only raises more questions.
Why didn’t he say he knew me? Why didn’t he rat me out for being in the park? Was it all part of a plan—had he been sent to follow me from the start? Did he already know who I was back then, or was I a random piece in some game I don’t fully understand?
The questions swirl like storm clouds, heavy and unrelenting. Rest feels impossible, but I know I need it. I close my eyes, letting the heat from the water wrap around me, and try to convince myself to relax. If nothing else, I can stay here until the sun comes up.
But the peace shatters like glass.
“This is a strange turn of events,” a voice says.
My eyes snap open, and I sit up with a start, water sloshing over the edges of the tub as I jerk forward. My heart leaps into my throat as my gaze locks on the doorway.
Malachi leans casually against the frame, arms crossed over his chest, his infuriatingly calm expression betraying no sense of decency—or respect for boundaries.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demand, heat rising to my face, though whether it’s from anger, embarrassment, or both, I’m not sure. I instinctively reach for the towel draped over the edge of the tub, ready to use it as a shield if necessary.
He smirks, and the gold flecks in his dark eyes seem to glint in the dim light. “Relax, I just came to talk but you look tense. That bath’s not working? Maybe you need me to help you unwind, little demon.”
