“This isn’t the time for inner conflict.” I stare at my friend. “If Ilya wanted to give them something, he would’ve handed over the mansion’s blueprint, including the newly installed security cameras. And he wouldn’t have stayed during the fire or saved Gareth.”
“The motherfucker could’ve been faking it.”
“Enough.” I exert pressure on Nikolai’s neck. “We should focus on making them pay your way.”
Light shines in his usually dead eyes and he smirks. “You can’t take that back. We’ll do it my way and you’ll tell those fuckers Kill and Gaz to obey me.”
“After I plan it.”
“Do your thing. But I’ll use explosives.”
“Explosives will get the authorities’ attention. No.”
“You said my way.”
“Anything but explosives.”
I’m sure he’ll come up with an equally screwed-up method, and I’ll allow it.
Those fuckers deserve whatever wrath Nikolai has planned.
And I will watch as their blood stains the streets.
After we get home, I stop at the front of the mansion to look at the fully burned east side. Some workers are already moving like bees, cleaning the space in preparation for renovating it.
We came out of the incident unscathed. Yes, I almost died, but something worse could’ve happened. Like losing my sister and the only friends I’ve had my whole life.
After taking a shower and changing my clothes, I go to my Annika’s room and knock on the door. This is a temporary one since her purple princess room is being cleaned.
“Come in,” she says with utter boredom from the other side.
I stroll in to find her lying on the bed on her stomach, legs in the air and phone in her hand.
Annika is the spitting image of Mom. They have the same long brown hair, petite features, and an elegant aura that it feels like I have a mini version of my mother with me.
Their similarities end on the physical level, though. Where Mom is soft-spoken and demure, Annika is extroverted to a fault, never stops talking, and has the energy of a bunny on crack.
Upon seeing me, she jumps up, throws her precious phone away, and inspects me. “Are you okay? Should you be moving? And why did you go jogging when the doctor said you should be resting?”
“Breathe, Annika.” I clutch her by the shoulder. “I’m fine.”
She narrows her eyes, observing me further, definitely not believing a word I said.
Since she was born when I was six, I’ve considered it my mission to protect her with my life. The fact that I couldn’t last night has been chipping away at a part of me.
“Enough about me. Are you okay, Anoushka? Do you need anything?”
“Aside from being set free of my Rapunzel tower? I don’t think so.”
I ruffle her hair. “It’s for your security.”
“Oh, please. You just like locking me up.” She swats my hand away. “And stop treating me like a kid.”
“No,” I say point-blank, and she makes a face.
“Come on, Jer.” She takes my hand in hers. “At least let me go to the dorm. I miss the girls so much, and they’re worried sick about me after they heard about the fire.”
The girls.Including, but not exclusive to, Cecily.
“No.”
“Jer!” she whines. “Please. You know how hard it was for me to make friends, and these girls really like me despite my status as a mafia princess and my last name. I can’t just lose them.”
“There will be no going back to the dorm temporarily.”
“You’re so heartless.” She drops my hand as if it’s an expired object. “I pity the girl who will have to marry you.”
“I was going to let you have lunch with your friends, but since I’m heartless…” I shrug.
“Oh, don’t be silly. You know I was kidding!” Annika laughs and lunges at me with a koala embrace. “Thanks, Jer!”
“You’ll be escorted by guards,” I tell her with a hand on her back.
“Okay!” She jumps down and disappears into her closet, probably to pick a dress from the hundred purple ones she owns.
Shaking my head, I step out and pause when my phone vibrates.
The name on the screen shouldn’t be there.
It should’ve been deleted, but it wasn’t.
I shouldn’t have been reading and rereading her last text about the manga that I stole from her room that night.
It’s that fucking obsession that I can’t shake.
Cecily: I heard about the fire. Are you okay?
I stare at her words or, more like, glare at them.
Why the fuck would she act so worried when she’s obviously hung up on someone else?
But then again, since when do I care about that?
I gave her a chance to escape me, but she didn’t take it.
If I want to own her, I will.
When I’m done with her, no other fucking man will be on her mind.
CECILY
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re ghosting me, Cecy.”
I take a slurp of my energy drink and try to remain cool and unaffected, despite Lan’s shoulder that’s nudging mine.
At Remi’s and Ava’s insistence, our group of friends have gotten together for drinks at a pub downtown.
The big table in the middle of the room overflows with drinks, chatter, side-nudges and the general hyper energy that takes place whenever we’re together.
Remi dragged Bran and Creigh along, and Ava got me and Glyn to join.
Anni would’ve loved to be here as well, but she still hasn’t gained back her full freedom and has to be monitored at all times by her guards. She’s also been staying in the Heathens’ mansion.
I would rather not be in a place that’s buzzing with people, loud music, and sensory chaos, but I’m willing to do it instead of letting Ava get drunk and have no one to take care of her after.
Also, anywhere is a better place than my head.
I just didn’t count on Lan joining us because A, he doesn’t hang out in our circle and has his own entourage; and B, I really don’t want to talk to him after the fire episode at the Heathens’.
That was a week and a half ago, and I still feel that burning sensation down my throat whenever I swallow.
Another tap on my shoulder, a subtle nudge, and the feeling of his breath down my neck.
I stare at Lan, who looks dashing in his casual clothes without him making an effort. It’s the easygoing grin and the aristocratic features. He shares them with his twin brother, but Bran appears elegant and sophisticated.
He’s nothing more than a devil.
“What do you want, Lan?”
“Don’t sulk over such a trivial issue.”
“Trivial,” I whisper-yell so the others don’t hear. “Did you just call arson trivial?”
“No one got hurt.”
“Jeremy did.” My chest squeezes, as is the case whenever I think about him.
“Meh. He survived.” Lan’s blank gaze remains in place, and I come to the bitter realization that I really don’t know this man.
I’ve spent twenty years in his orbit and about three years crushing on him, and yet I have no clue who the hell he is.
“He was hurt, Lan,” I repeat. “He was injured and needed medical attention.”
“He still survived like a cat with nine lives. Also, hold on, why are you getting so worked up about Jeremy? Don’t you hate him?”
Worked up.
Is that what it looks like from the outside? That I’m worked up?
Ava said something similar when I kept asking Anni questions as soon as she was able to meet with us again for lunch.
“Why are you so invested in this, Cecy?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
I waved her off, but now, I face Lan. “Because I unknowingly caused a fire after you used my goodwill for satanic purposes.”
He laughs, slapping his knees, but none of the emotions reach his eyes. “Aren’t you being a little dramatic? It’s the Remi effect, isn’t it?”
It dawns on me then. All of this is a joke to Lan, a game he plays, a fun activity he indulges in.
He couldn’t care less who needs to be crushed as long as he has what he wants.
I’m just a pawn on his chessboard that he used and discarded.
“Did someone say my lordship’s name?” Remi jumps up beside us. “Don’t talk behind my back when you have the whole thing here.”
“Oh?” Lan grins. “And here I thought you were ignoring me, Rems.”
“Nonsense.” He gathers him in a bro hug. “There, there, don’t feel lonely, mate.”
Bran releases a puff of air. “He doesn’t even know the meaning of that word.”
“Don’t be jealous,” Lan says with a grin and utter ease, enjoying egging his twin brother on a bit too much.
He’s like that, whether it’s with his friends or family. Everyone is a fluid matter that could and would be used.
I guess I only just realized the extent he’d go to.
“Are you guys fighting for my attention? Don’t do that, I can’t choose!” Remi releases Lan and goes to sit beside Creigh. “I will only have my spawn, thank you very much. I know you miss Anni, even if you don’t say it, but I’ll keep you company.”
“He doesn’t care about you.” Ava raises her glass. “Maybe you should salvage your dignity while you can.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are we still talking about me? Because that whole speech could’ve been directed at you. Your dignity is shriveling and dying on the floor as we speak.”
“Oh, you’re so dead, bitch.”
“Bring it on, bitch.”
Ava goes for his throat and they bicker on and on, accidentally spilling each other’s secrets. Glyn, who’s allergic to conflict, tries to mediate and break them up. Bran offers them drinks to cool them down.
Neither work.
Usually, I’d take Ava’s side. One, it’s fun to rile Remi up. Two, she might not act like it, but she was hurt by his words and I don’t allow that.
But I can’t bring myself to move or talk. Some of that has to do with Lan being here.
In the past, I’d get all giddy whenever he joined us and fangirl internally. Now, I’m uncomfortable.
I don’t want to sit beside him, knowing what he’s done. It’s been a long time since I figured out he doesn’t care about me more than as a childhood friend, but this is the first time I’ve finally accepted it.
I wait for the pain to wash through me, but it doesn’t. It’s merely a dull ache now, and I’m not sure if it’s because of him or something else.
After taking a sip of my drink, I check my phone. It’s a stupid habit I’ve developed ever since a different devil barged into my life.
The last text I sent is sitting there. On Read.
Of course he didn’t reply. Why would he?
Besides, I was too stressed at the moment, thinking I actually hurt a person, as monstrous as he is, or I wouldn’t have sent him that text.
From his perspective, I must’ve looked like the clingy type who couldn’t move on from the madness of that one night.
A part of me regrets it, the part that was always ashamed of my preferences. The part that prides itself in being confident and assertive but still made the reckless mistake of showing my tendencies to a predator.
No, not a predator. A hunter.
The other part is relieved that I was finally able to do something about my fantasies. That I was courageous enough to let it happen while I was scared of it.
That I was strong enough to not have one of those panic attacks like I did in the past whenever sex was mentioned.
I just didn’t count on everything that happened afterward.
I’ve driven myself to the edge countless times since, especially after the fire, and my sleep paralysis has become more frequent and filled with images that make me cry and scream.
Only internally, though.