“I’m not an idiot. I know this is only a phase before you move on to the next step.”

He pauses with his glass of wine halfway to his lips. “What do you think I’ll do?”

“Fuck me?”

“Eventually.”

The single word, though calmly spoken, crashes my world and splinters it into a million bloody pieces. My stomach sinks with a mixture of feelings. There’s the sharp tang of disappointment, but that’s not all. Malevolent butterflies claw at my skin with a dark sense of enthrallment.

All the nightmares I had after that night start to scroll through my mind’s eye. The shadowy, blurry images morph into two figures on a bed as one of them rams into the other.

I never wanted to identify them, but now, one of them is as clear as the face in front of me.

Him.

His strong body is pounding what seems to be both pleasure and pain into the person lying beneath him.

One of them is still faceless, and I desperately want it to be me.

“Even if I say no?” I murmur.

“If I were a rapist, I would’ve broken into your apartment in the middle of the night and taken what I wanted. I would not have asked you to dinner.”

“Am I supposed to appreciate the gesture?” There’s a slight slur at the end of my speech. This is probably my third glass of wine.

Shit.

In my attempt to loosen my nerves, I went ahead and got drunk in the company of a monster who wouldn’t hesitate to use it against me.

This is the absolute worst. I not only have a low alcohol tolerance, but I also lose my inhibitions in all senses possible even when slightly intoxicated.

Adrian raises his glass to his mouth, barely sipping. He hasn’t poured himself anything aside from his first. “It’s not obligatory, no.”

“I…I want to go home.” I stand on unsteady feet, then fall back on the seat. I’m still catching my breath when a large presence appears by my side.

He clutches my arm and gently pulls the glass of wine from my fingers. “I believe you’ve had enough to drink for one night.”

“I want to leave.”

“Then let’s leave.” He places a few bills on the table and wraps a strong arm around my waist as he leads me out of the restaurant.

I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or everything that’s transpired tonight, but I feel like I’m levitating. My nostrils fill with his masculine scent and his firm hold on me only heightens it.

But somewhere at the back of my mind, I still recognize that he’s dangerous. That he’s a monster hidden under a composed façade and gentlemen’s clothes.

I wiggle away from him. “I can walk on my own.”

He releases me, and before I can be relieved, I stumble. Adrian holds me by the elbow and pulls me to him so that my front is flat against his hard chest.

I’m so small compared to him, barely reaching his broad shoulders. I’m thin and tiny in contrast to his large physique and monstrous aura. As if the asshole could use another thing to intimidate me with—aside from my life.

We’re standing at what I assume is the back entrance of the restaurant, because it’s not the same one we used when coming in. The place is empty except for a few cars in the parking lot.

Only a single streetlight is in view. Even in the semi-darkness, Adrian’s eyes are intense but have that sheen of utter calmness. I wonder what it’d take to disturb that look.

To disturb him.

“Why did you wait a week to find me?” I murmur.

“I was busy.”

“Busy gathering information about me?”

“Probably. Why? Have you been thinking about me, Lenochka?” His voice drops with the last word.

I don’t tell him he’s the only one I’ve been thinking about, in the most terrifying way possible, and that when I saw him again in the audience, something inside me unlocked. That I think I had my best performance yet, just because I knew he was there.

Instead, I say, “Everyone thinks about their Grim Reaper.”

He strokes a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture is gentle, but the undertone is far from it. If anything, it’s charged, dark, stifling.

“Then don’t make me into yours.”

“How— Mmmm.” My question is interrupted when he crashes his lips to mine.

His hand holds my face in place as his tongue forces its way inside my mouth. I place my palms on his chest, intent on pushing him, on slapping him, but instead, my fingers curl into his coat as a helpless sound escapes my throat. His tongue invades my mouth, conquering it, then swirls against mine with a feral need.

The man kisses as confidently as he walks and talks, but there’s none of his calm behind it. Nothing to hold his stoic face in place. He gives as hard as he takes, tilting my head back so he can deepen the full invasion.

I’m no virgin. But this kiss alone is more intense than any sex I’ve ever had.

More claiming, too.

When he pulls back, a desperate moan echoes in the air.

Mine.

Staring into his shadowed eyes in the dark, I’m fully aware that things have shifted between us after that kiss.

I just signed away something else. No idea what, but it’s now in his hands and there’s no way I’ll be able to get it back.

Just like my fate and my death.

6

Adrian

Lia tries to remain awake.

She fights tooth and nail for it by shaking her head, pinching herself, and eventually tapping her cheeks.

But it’s useless.

She falls asleep against the car door because, in her attempt to remain awake, she was also religious about keeping her distance from me.

I watched her entire struggle from my position with my forefinger tapping against my thigh. I didn’t have to do anything except wait for the inevitable.

People, in general, think they can change things with the sheer force of their determination. That the danger signals would push their brain and it’s enough to propel their system forward. What they fail to understand is that the brain can contradict itself and send different signals. After all, the body’s exhaustion can and will overrule the brain’s plots.

I grab Lia by the elbow and pull her close. She doesn’t even stir as her head lolls down on her chest in what has to be an uncomfortable position. I maneuver her so that her head is resting against my thigh.