Page 86 of Wicked Believer
“I fearHimstealing her from me. Like He’s takeneverythingfrom me. My pride. My purpose. My wings. My ability to create. And now ...” My jaw tightens, my lip curling in disgust at the unguarded admission that just fell from my lips as I gaze up toward Heaven.
The stained glass image of Christ stares back at me.
My brother. Or my Father, as it were.
According to humanity, they’re one in the same.
Whatever the fuckthat’ssupposed to mean.
“Already, He nearly stole her from me, thrust her into Azrael’s waiting arms, and if I were to tell her everything ...” I hang my head, no longer able to look at the image. At the reminder that, to her, I am stillexactlythe villain my Father made me to be. “He may be your favorite deity, but He’s a piss-poor excuse for a Father, if you ask me.”
The priest remains quiet, and I think I might have finally accomplished the minor feat of scaring him off, though that doesn’t inspire as much amusement in me these days as it used to.
“The only thing that will push her away is if you force her to choose.” He comes to stand at the far end of the pew. “Don’t make her choose, Sammael.”
With that, he turns and leaves, abandoning me to the early morning quiet as some light begins to seep in, making patterns on the floor through the colored glass. And yet I sit there, unmoving, more confused and at war with myself than I’ve ever been since the moment I first chose to tempt Eve with that damn apple.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Charlotte
The following morning I’m still so furious with Lucifer that I don’t even want to look and see if he’s on the other side of the bed waiting for me. Thankfully, when I do finally sneak a peek, he isn’t there, and once I cave and eventually decide to search the penthouse for him after breakfast, I find he isn’t anywhere else either. So, I hightail it into my office at Apollyon headquarters as soon as humanly possible, hoping to avoid him completely before he returns from wherever it is he’s been going.
Whatever it is he must be up to with Michael. I scowl.
The thought fills me with so much rage, it’s hard to breathe.
I seal myself inside my office, and I do the only thing I can do. I throw myself into my work. I make phone calls, answer emails. I review the finalized schedule for the CFDA Awards along with mine and Lucifer’s show-host script. I arrange several interviews—People,Entertainment Weekly,Time—update all the corporation’s social media accounts, including my own (one billion followers and counting), coordinate withVogueabout an upcoming photo shoot I have scheduled, and generally, girlboss my way too close to the sun.
I barrel through my to-do list with such an intense fury that I don’t give myself room to think. About Michael’s little visit last night. About his deal with Lucifer.
About our engagement.
About what that all means for Lucifer, for humanity, for me.
Fuck that noise.
By the time I finish working, over nine hours later, it’s early evening, and I almost forget that I told Azmodeus I’d meet him at his club tonight. I still haven’t figured out exactly what his endgame with this sibling-bond thing is.
I have half a mind to find an excuse not to go. Lucifer told me to leave his family to him, and I’m in no mood really, but it’s the sight of my investor proposal sitting on top of my desk that stops me.
You want to be queen? Fine. Then start acting like it.
Lucifer’s words echo inside my head, taunting me.
“Maybe I will, asshole,” I mutter, my plan cementing itself inside my brain.
I call down to Jeanine at the front desk and ask her to get ahold of Dagon for me, then collapse back into my office chair to wait. Dagon arrives nearly thirty minutes later with the Town Car and full security team in tow. Four members of the team come up to my office to escort me down to where the car’s waiting.
They’re all even more on edge than they were previously.
Apparently, Lucifer laid into them about the whole Olivia thing. He fired several, only to hire several more in their place. Three to every previous one position. Not that it was any of their faults, really. Olivia wasn’t even with me then. How could they have known when they were busy protecting therealme? Though I suppose I did slip their detail a bit too easily.
Another thing I’ll likely be feeling guilty for.
I take accountability for my actions.
Unlike some people.
