Black Is The New Romance 1u3d4y

Black is the New Romance Shreya Solaris

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©ShreyaSolaris

Table of Contents

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

About the Author

Dedicated to my family, who ed me no mater what I chose to do

Chapter 1

When will this class be over? I glanced at the clock that hung languidly on the wall, sighing. Tapping my pencil on my desk, I gazed at the rows of chairs in front of me, having to squint to get a good look at the teacher that droned unrecognizable words. She wore her pajamas, a protest for the board holding finals at six in the morning, but secretly, I hoped that they would still have the test early. The sooner I finished the dreadful exams, the better. Beside me, Kath, my best friend, smiled down at her crotch, giggling quietly to herself every now and then. I hid my smirk behind my notebook. She was probably texting Matt, her new beau. I don't know how they met. I never got the chance to ask, and even if I cared, I didn't have the time to dwell on her love life. My own life was stressful enough. "Miss. Walker?" The professor's voice rang loud and clear through the echoey room. "Yes?" Hastily, I rose from my seat, knawing at my bottom lip. I curled my fingers into my palm, hoping they would sink into my skin and draw the blood I wanted to feel soothe me. "Could you please explain to Mr. Keating why we are studying every genre topic?" She commanded icily. I was unsure if her fury was directed towards myself or towards Mike, but nevertheless, I twirled slightly on my heel to face the arrogant Mike Keating who smirked back at me. I scowled. "Every person here has his or her own personal taste, Mr. Keating," I explained, trying to sound robotic. "We are studying each topic not only for our preferences but also to understand them properly and know which is to our liking. If we are to become part of publishing companies or make our own, then we should assure our clients that we will help them with their books. Knowing the genre of the book will not only benefit them but us as well," I explained hurriedly, my legs wobbling. Mike's eyes were emotionless, but I could see a hint of a smile ing

by my professor's lips. "Thank you, Miss Walker," she said curtly. She narrowed her eyes at Mike, who didn't bother to change his lax position on his chair. "I hope you understand now why we cover these subjects, Mr. Keating, and pick your words wisely next time." "Whatever you say, Prof," Mike grumbled. She didn't say anything. Nodding towards me, she turned her back and continued on with her lecture about our most recent genre, sci-fi. I slunk back into my seat, a shaky, relieved breath of air spreading through my lungs. Beside me, Kath tapped my arm, her phone poking from her backpack. "Are you okay?" She asked. I frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?" She shrugged. "You seemed nervous when Professor Haynes called on you. Is everything alright?" Internally, I sucked on my tongue, hoping it would bleed so that I could have an excuse to keep quiet. "I-It's really nothing. I was just taken by surprise at the question. You know how I hate being called on." Kath's eyes narrowed and I winced. It wasn't easy to hide things from her and her reporter-like instincts. I just hoped that she wouldn't go into the whole "Barbara Walters Inquisition" in the middle of Professor Hayne's class. Our professor definitely didn't appreciate it last time. "I suppose that's valid," she finally grumbled. "You are taking your meds though, right, Adrienne?" "Yeah. I need them, Kath," I smiled, hoping it was warm enough for her to turn away and continue texting Matt. I didn't want to talk, anyway. "Read chapters 7 and 8 of Emma and be prepared for a quiz tomorrow," Professor Haynes shouted over the much-anticipated bell. "Mr. Keating, please stay back for a few moments. I would like to speak to you."

I caught Mike giving me a nasty look from the corner of my eye, but I ignored him, raising my head high and striding out of the stuffy room. Kath and I had lunch to get before my work at the library began. I didn't have time to waste on him. My backpack felt lighter than usual. Maybe it was because finals were approaching. Teachers were certainly backing down on the amount of work they bestowed upon us. I shouldn't be complaining, I suppose. Having less work is a blessing, really. I can focus more on my job and my search for a new one after graduation. "What do you want to eat?" I vaguely heard Kath asking me as we stood in line at Panera. I regarded our surroundings quickly, smiling at her. "Just a sandwich is fine," I said. "And maybe some soup?" "Sure," she grinned. She looked down at her phone, then back at me. "You sure gave Mike a talking today, huh, Adrienne?" I blushed. "Yeah. I didn't expect her to call on me out of everyone in the room, but I'm glad I was able to think of something. At least I didn't make myself look like a fool in front of everyone." "You? A fool?" Kathryn scoffed. "You never are a fool, Adrienne. You're smart. And you know that." "I suppose," I mused. Kath's phone pinged as the line moved, and I smirked at her. "Matt again?" She flushed. "Yes. I want to introduce him to my parents so we're trying to set a date." I smiled, despite the burning feeling that pricked at the corner of my eyes. "That's awesome! I'm glad you're moving on from Henry." She scowled. "Henry was a jerk. I know that now. If I ever think about him, it's just to wonder how I was so stupid to date him in the first place." I shrugged. "We all make mistakes."

We got our food after a long, boring wait in line, settling at a small bench in the cafe. At first, it surprised me as to how many little stores GreyHorn University had, but I wasn't questioning it. After all, it was free food. Who was I to complain about that? "Did you hear about the person who will be speaking at our graduation?" Kath asked suddenly, pounding her fork into her salad. I set my sandwich down carefully, raising my eyebrow. "No...who?" "Lazareth Noir," she giggled. I rolled my eyes. "Oh god. Not this again." "What?" She defended. "He's super sexy, you can't deny that!" "I wasn't denying anything," I said. "I just don't understand your infatuation over him, Kath." "Uh...duh? He's the richest man in the world? And he's speaking at our graduation!" Kathryn squealed. "I even hear that he'll be offering job interviews to some of the students!" Again, I rolled my eyes, sighing. "Awesome. What does he do, again?" "He owns Olympian Deals, some real estate company," Kath explained. "He started from scratch and made one of the biggest companies in the world! Hell, it sures Google and Amazon—combined!" "Good for him," I snapped, biting hard into my sandwich. Kath frowned. "What is it? You don't like Lazareth Noir?" "I don't even know the guy, Kath," I murmured. "And I'd rather not, quite frankly." "Oh? Why do you say that?" Kathryn questioned, leaning over the table, twirling her hair. I wrinkled my nose. "Getting involved with CEOs usually brings a lot of drama.

I'm not willing to go into that world." "Even if that world is ionate and sexy?" She prodded, her grey eyes sparkling. "Even so." I let out a deep exhale. "Look, I'm sure he's a very nice man, but being involved in their world is not a risk I'm willing to take, Kath. What if I get hurt?" "So? Love is love," she leaned back on her chair, taking a bite of her food. "Life is full of risks, Adrienne. We have to take them at some point." "Then you can do it," I decided. "If Matt becomes rich and famous like Lazareth Noir, then you can step into the limelight. Just leave me out of it." Kath shrugged. "Whatever you say, Adri." "Miss. Walker?" Professor Alvarez's cool, collected voice brushed my ear. Shivers trickled down my spine and I tilted my head up to meet his hard, steely eyes. "Yes, Professor Alvarez?" I replied immediately, almost dumbly. "If you are done with your lunch, I would like to speak to you in my classroom." His voice was calm—nerve rackingly so. "O-Of course, sir," I stammered, failing to collect myself. "Is something wrong?" He shook his head, a soft but tight smile crossing his lips. "No, Miss. Walker. I simply wish to speak to you about a task I would like for you to complete for me." "O-Oh..." I glanced at Kathryn. She jerked her head towards her phone. I'll see you after work, She mouthed, ing Professor Alvarez a hard stare before gathering her things and leaving the cafeteria. "So, what would you like me to do, Professor Alvarez?" I questioned timidly, avoiding bringing my gaze to his.

His cold stare burned into me, a languid smirk spreading over his pale lips. "I presume that you already know about Mr. Noir and his speech at our graduation ceremony happening shortly?" "Yes?" I quirked my eyebrow. Where was he going with this? "We have requested an interview with him for the school paper," Mr. Alvarez continued. "He agreed, and the interview is scheduled for Friday. Do you think you'll be able to come up with a list of questions to ask him for the interview?" I stared at him uncomprehendingly, my mouth unceremoniously ajar. Inside, my heart thrummed against my chest, like it was trying to escape and hide in some closet. "W-What do you mean?" "Are you hard of hearing?" He sneered. "Mr. Noir is willing to have an interview with us. It will be published in public newspapers as well as our personal newspaper for the school. I would like for you to conduct the interview." "Why me?" I blurted, thoroughly confused. "I'm not even a part of the newspaper club!" What seemed to be a sadistic smirk spread across Professor Alvarez's features. "I suppose you could say that I have been...studying you, Miss. Walker. You have exceptional talent, especially in the literature department. I would like for Mr. Noir to see your talent. Perhaps he will even offer you an interview?" He slid forward an old recorder and a few pages of lined paper, like what middle school kids would use for an essay. "Write your questions here. The recorder is for you to use only when you interview Mr. Noir. Bring your list back by tomorrow for me to proofread. As soon as everything is acceptable, I will schedule for you and Mr. Noir to meet." He gave me a pointed look. "Any questions?" "Um...what time will the meeting be?" I asked softly, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. "Why?" "My little brother has a concert that I would like to be present for," I replied curtly, gathering some confidence. "If the interview conflicts with his concert,

I'm afraid I'll have to decline." Professor Alvarez stayed silent for a few moments, but then, a wisp of a smile touched his lips. "Ever the fireball, aren't you, Adrienne?" He murmured. He cleared his throat. "I was told that the meeting would take place somewhere around 10 pm." I winced, and he at least had enough of an ego to look slightly ashamed. "I know. I apologize for the late timing, but it will be on campus in the cafeteria. Will that be okay for you?" I reached for my phone and scrolled through the many apps littering my space before I finally was able to track down the calendar app. "His concert is at 6. I should be able to have my older brother take care of him," I said, smiling. Professor Alvarez nodded stiffly, handing me the materials I needed and sending me on my way quickly. It wasn't until I was on my way back to the dorm Kath and I shared that I realized just what I had signed myself up for. An interview. With Lazareth Noir. The biggest billionaire in the world and the richest man alive. And, according to Kath, the most coveted bachelor in America. My heart hadn't stopped racing since I left Professor Alvarez's office and it was now that I realized my palms were sweaty. Opening the door to our shared dorm, I spotted Kath immediately. She was on a Skype call with her brother, Kevin. Quickly, I saw her close the call as the door groaned closed behind me. "Hey, Adrienne," she greeted, getting up to give me a hug. "What's up? What did Alvarez want?" I slammed the papers onto the table, dropping into a crisscross pose on the ground, my head in my hands. Kath sat next to me, taking the papers slowly. "He wanted me to interview Noir," I mumbled through my fingers. She gasped. "Really? When?" "Friday."

"What?!" Now she slammed the papers. I looked up from my lap. Her eyes were sparkling. "Well, I'll be damned. Seriously, Adrienne?" I giggled. "Yeah. I'm going to actually talk to your sexy billionaire." "First of all, I never said he was my billionaire," Kath chuckled. "But...fuck, Adrienne..." "I know," I sighed, dropping my head against the front of the couch. "I have to prepare some questions and... god, study!" Kath grinned, tapping the papers against my knee. "Well then, let's get started."

Chapter 2

My feet felt heavy as I trekked to Professor Alvarez's office the next day. The library was in the farthest part of campus, meaning that it would take me extra time to get there, especially after lunch when there was rush hour. Kath and I agreed to meet after my work was finished, mostly so she could gush about Lazareth Noir. Despite having a boyfriend, I didn't understand what made Kath so infatuated with him. I didn't bother to look up a picture of him but based on her descriptions, he sounded to be a young, handsome man in his twenties. Or, I could just be making a wild assumption and he's an old, fifty-year-old guy with a goatee, I grumbled to myself, clutching my books closer to my chest. The hardcovers pressed through the loose fabric of my shirt and against my skin, grafting. I felt the small notebook I carried around with me slide against my chest, but I ignored it. If it fell, I would just pick it up. Or, hopefully, someone else would pick it up for me. Unless chivalry is dead, I thought, snickering to myself. As I reached the library, the hallway began to clear. There weren't many classes by Professor Alvarez's room, anyway. Nobody wanted to be within six feet of the cold professor, at least, nobody who didn't have classes with him. "Hey, Walker!" Mike's nasal voice echoed in the hallway. Footsteps clicked in a rush behind me, and I swallowed a groan. I had hoped he would have gone to his day job already, but clearly, I was wrong. Either that, or he purposefully stayed behind to stalk me. "What do you want, Michael?" I snapped, turning slowly on my heel to face his cold green gaze. Forget Professor Alvarez. Mike's eyes were ten times scarier when he was angry. "Where are you going?" He asked, ignoring my brisk welcome. He leaned against the pillar beside my head. Brown, curly locks of hair brushed his haughty cheekbones, smirking with his lips.

I rolled my eyes. "Why do you care?" "Because you're my friend, obviously!" He clutched his heart. "How cruel, Walker!" "I don't see anything cruel about a question, Keating," I scoffed. "And why do you keep calling me by my last name? You know my name's Adrienne." "I do, but I prefer to annoy you," Mike shrugged. "Your face scrunches up when you're annoyed. It makes you look cute." I wrinkled my nose, taking a cautious step away from him. "Um...thanks, I guess? But seriously, Mike, what do you want?" "Where are you going?" He repeated, shuffling his feet. "I'm going to see Professor Alvarez quickly before I head to my job," I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at him. "Why? Where are you going?" "Why are you going to see Old man Alvarez?" Mike sneered, ignoring my question again. "You got detention with him?" "We aren't in middle school anymore, Mike," I growled. "No, he asked me to do him a favor—!" "Ooh. Are you fucking him for good grades?" Mike interjected, his eyes sparkling cruelly. "Damn, I never pegged you as that type of gal, Adri." "No, I am not," I snapped, feeling a fire igniting in my chest. "It's a professional favor, Mike, and it's none of your business." He raised his eyebrow, challenging. "Is it?" He purred. He stared at me for a few moments, then, in a rush of air, I felt the papers Kath and I spent all night working on being snatched from my hands. "Hey!" I jumped up to grab them, but Mike was faster. He pushed me aside and I stumbled against the edge of a classroom window, just barely being able to collect myself. "Give those back, Michael! They aren't yours," I demanded. A raw fire burned

around my heart, climbing up my throat. "What made you inspired to become an entrepreneur," Mike mumbled to himself, holding me firmly at arm's length. His blazing green eyes scanned the page, then met mine. "Are you interviewing Lazareth Noir?" He asked. I glared at him. "As a matter of fact, I am," I answered coldly. "God damn." Mike threw the stapled packet of papers at me. "Fuck him while you two are alone in the cafe, 'kay? He's one hell of a catch." "What is your problem?" I asked sharply, shoving the packet into my books. I strode closer to him. He smelled like alcohol. "Why do you always antagonize me? Why can't you leave me alone?" "Geez, Adri, what's with all the questions?" Mike sneered. He leveled my glare back at me, and suddenly, he seemed more frightening. "J-Just answer them," I ordered, my chest heaving. Mike scowled. "I would think you would know why I'm not leaving you alone," He spat. "But then again, it still amazes me as to how you got into GreyHorn Uni —what with that insect-sized brain of yours." I gaped at him. "Insect sized brain? Excuse me?" He smirked. "You heard me, Adrienne. You may be the superstar girl of campus and Professor Hayne's favorite doggy, but you'll always be the same, bitchy whore you and I both know you are—!" "Ahem." Professor Alvarez's sharp cough brought both Mike and my eyes towards him. His cold grey irises icily glowered at Mike. "Is there a problem here, Mr. Keating?" Mike's jaw clenched. "Of course not, Prof!" He smiled. "I was just catching up with my best friend." His words were like venom spewing from his lips. His arm around my hip was

tight, as though he was trying to squeeze the life out of me. "Shoo." Professor Alvarez waved his hand. "Catch up with your best friend in your free time, Michael. I'm sure Miss. Walker already told you, but we both have some important matters to work into." "But—!" "Leave." Professor Alvarez's voice held no room for debate. He glared at Michael, who hastily pulled away from me and scampered down the hallway. I smirked to myself. Mike may pretend to be a big-shot, but even he couldn't stand up to the wrath of Professor Alvarez. "Miss. Walker," he nodded towards me, leading me into his office. "I presume you and Miss. Kathryn, had a ball brainstorming questions for Mr. Noir?" I flushed, fumbling for the packet. "Uhm, yes, sir. We came up with a few." I handed him the packet, bending my head. He took it from me, grunting every now and then. I didn't look up to see his reaction. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to. Criticism given to me was poorly handled by my anxious brain. "This is all very good," he murmured, handing the papers back to me. His cold grey eyes assessed me, thawing ever so slightly. Professor Alvarez, with warm grey eyes and a silly black mustache and vampire pale skin. I never thought I would describe him with warm grey eyes, but in the heat of the moment, it definitely looked like Antarctica had thawed in his orbs. "Is there anything that needs to be changed?" "No. Just pick four or five that you feel you will be most comfortable asking Mr. Noir tomorrow," he requested. "You may leave if you have no further questions." "Yes, sir." I practically bolted out of the room, the papers flurrying around me. I needed to get to work. Picking five questions could wait. All I had to do was pick the simplest ones, after all. That would make my life and Mr. Noir's life much easier. After all, why would he want to stay in the same room with a measly college

student for longer than an hour? My phone pinged with a text from Kath. She was already at her job as a personal trainer. I suppose that explained why she was so fit and I was as soft as a dumpling. I like my softness, though, I thought, finding something to latch my often dreamy mind onto. Most girls my age were insecure about their plump bodies. Why should they be? It was their body, and they only get one life. Live it the best you can. My mother always told me never to pay heed to what others thought about me, and I took her words to heart...except when it came to my writing. Enough with the TED-talks already, Adrienne, I scolded myself. My phone buzzed once again, vibrating in my pocket. I paused at a crosswalk to read the text. KATH: What did Alvarez say? I smiled. Once a reporter, always a reporter. I put my books in my bag to text her back. ME: He said I'd have to pick four or five questions to ask Noir tomorrow. Which ones do u think I should pick? KATH: The JUICY ones ME: Kath!!! KATH: Kidding, kidding. Ask easy questions. The ones people want to know answers to. The easy questions? I scoffed. Well, that would certainly make my work much easier. But would it really be worth the time to ask him boring questions that everyone else wants to know answers to? I mean, I'm sure he'd be bored with the regular, "How did you become so successful?" And wouldn't people be bothered with the "pity story?" If he even had one. I ran my eyes over the list again. It wouldn't hurt to ask the core questions, but maybe some entertaining ones too? I had never interviewed anyone before, and certainly not someone as successful as Lazareth Noir, despite the fact that I had

never heard of him before. He's probably big to anyone who works in business, I thought. I slipped into one of the outdoor campus bathrooms to change into my work uniform. The blouse with a small book logo was a snow-white color. It went well with my light jeans. Kath despised jeans. She was just like Vincent. He didn't like wearing jeans either. Gryffin didn't mind jeans, though, so at least I had someone to model with. I ran down 6th avenue towards the towering library. Another strict rule was that we had to be on time. Thankfully, it was something my dad had accustomed me very well to, especially when it was to run alcohol refills for him. "Adrienne! At least someone is on time!" Madame Doniya rushed to greet me before I was able to even get my ID out. "All of these other imbeciles don't understand that romance needs to be restocked! I've already ordered them too!" I raised both of my eyebrows, looking from Madame Doniya's pleading blue eyes to my co-workers, Oliver and Laurel. They both looked away, shuffling towards the Agatha Christie shelf. I sighed. "I'll shelve the books. I don't think I had anything else on my agenda today anyway, apart from marking DVDs." Immediately, a smile popped onto Madame Doniya's thin lips. Her lithe arms wrapped me in a rich jasmine hug. "Thank you! Thank you so much, darling!" She led me quickly towards the rack where the glimmering, sharp spined books sat, twirling away to go read over the shoulders of college students using the library computers to satisfy their sinful pleasures. "Thanks a lot, Madame," I grumbled, dropping my backpack beside Laurel and Oliver's before setting about my task to put the call numbers onto the spines of the books. Then, I looked for books similar in alphabetical order and shelved the newer versions. So focused was I on the tedious task that I didn't even recognize where I was going, or where I was putting my feet. As I shelved Dark Lover, I felt a silky back bump into mine.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I apologized immediately. I placed the book I was holding hastily onto the rusty cart to face the man. He was very young and very handsome. He looked around a year or two older than I was. His hair was a dark blackish-blonde color and quite bushy. His eyes reminded me of a lion. They were black. Pitch black. I wasn't even sure if I was looking into his pupils or his irises! He also looked rich, based on the Gucci suit he was wearing. He had an Alpha watch and one of the Apple phones. I wasn't sure which one. Smiling, the man knocked his head to the side, cute dimples popping on his cheeks. "Don't apologize. I should have looked where I was going." His voice was slightly hard but he didn't sound aggravated. He sounded like a lion—king of the animals. "I'm also partially to blame. I should have watched where I was going too," I shrugged. "Do you need help looking for anything...?" "Uh, Laz," the man supplied. "That's my name. And, no, I was just...browsing, I suppose you could say. It has been a while since I journeyed around a public library." "Oh...um...okay." I wasn't sure exactly what to say. What person has never been to a public library? I guess unless you're a rich person, which Laz definitely looked like. At least he didn't have slicked-back hair, like those stereotypical rich guys in movies. "Actually, do you know where the romance books are?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have been...quite lost for some time." I beamed. "You're actually in the romance aisle. Most of the books here are old literature if you're interested in sweet candy romances. If you're looking for the spicy ones, those would be further down, closer to the teen's section." "Odd place to put inappropriate romance books by that age group," he mused, starting to walk towards the bookshelf. For whatever reason, I followed him, discarding my work to see to his personal

needs. "Well, that would be my boss's doing. She thought it would benefit the caretakers who bring children here, although I can see your point." Laz laughed. It sounded like a trumpet. Loud and proud. "I am seldom wrong, Miss..." he squinted his eyes at my nametag. "Walker." "Oh, just Adrienne is fine," I waved. "Miss. Walker makes me sound old. Only my teachers really call me that." "Teachers?" Laz fingered a thin-spined book. "Are you a college student?" "University, actually," I corrected impulsively. I blushed. "I go to GreyHorn Uni. It's just a couple of blocks down." "Ah, it is a very good school," he murmured. His gaze dropped to mine, and once again, I felt as though a lion were stalking me through the thin, yellow blades of the savannah. Watching. Waiting. "Adrienne!" Madame Doniya spoiled the mood, shouting my name from across the children's play area. "Stop dawdling and get back to work, girl!" "Y-Yes, Madame Doniya!" I hissed back. "I'm so sorry about tha—!" The man...or Laz, I guess, was already gone, taking the thin book and my many questions with him.

Chapter 3

I took a deep breath, gauging my outfit in the mirror. I tried to go for something simple, but fashionable at the same time...something like an interview outfit? I wasn't sure if I was trying too hard, or not trying hard enough. The clothes I chose were what Kath had bought for my twenty-first birthday, back when my old roommate dropped out to marry what we now knew was a drug dealer. She knew I didn't like pencil skirts, so the skirt she gave me was flowery and wide, flattening like Marilyn Monroe when I spun in a circle. It was a beige color, matching my white frilly blouse. In a way, I felt like I was going to my high school picture day. My Mom had dressed me in something similar if I correctly. "Adrienne? Are you ready?" Kath's voice managed to reach my ears loudly, despite the thick walls of my room. Taking one last judgmental glare at myself, I grabbed my backpack and opened the creaky wooden door, careful not to wake up Vincent. He had performed well at his concert, so well, in fact, that his teacher even gave him a solo act on the flute at the end. He was still blushing when we got home. Kath's eyes immediately snapped to me when my boots became loud enough to be heard from the living room. She was laying on the couch with her shoes on as if she owned the place. Her cheeks were still puffy and sticky from running the mile to get to my home, and the water glass on the table was completely empty. She whistled quietly, scanning me like I was a receipt and she was looking for the price. She stood from the couch, dragging her feet on the carpet and circling me like a hawk. I stayed rooted in place. She hated it when I moved during her silent interrogations. "You look nice," she finally breathed, beaming at me. Her eyes sparkled. "Are you sure this is an interview for Alvarez and not a date?"

I shoved her shoulder, giggling as I grabbed my phone. "No, I'm sure it's an interview for Alvarez. Unless he's trying to set me up." "Alvarez? The Professor Alvarez? Set you up?" Kath scoffed. "You wish. I'm surprised he's even married!" "It wasn't too much of a surprise to me," I murmured, sipping on the once-hot tea. "He is good-looking." "Hm..." Kath scowled. "Nah. I mean, unless you're interested in guys who look like a combination of Dracula and Van Goh, then be my guest." I shook my head. "He doesn't really look like Van Gogh. He looks more like a...French painter, or maybe a mime?" "I can see a mime," Kath agreed. She regarded the tilted clock on the wall. It was from the time Vincent and Gryffin decided to play baseball when I had my final exams. Least to say they never played sports in the house again. "What are you looking at? Got a date with Matthew?" I teased, crossing my arms over my chest. Kath grunted. "No. I'm just making sure you aren't going to be late for meeting the richest man in the world." She winked at me. "And also, the most coveted bachelor." Rolling my eyes, I stuffed my phone into my backpack, double-checking to make sure all the papers I needed were there. "I don't care about the bachelor part," I grumbled. "He's out of my league." "So? A girl can dream, right?" Kath smiled at me. "Just be yourself. If he can't see you for the wonderful being that you are, then fuck him." "Literally or figuratively?" "Both!" We broke out into wheezing laughter, doubling over on the couch. Kath's laugh was melodious, like the ringtone of a phone. Mine, on the other hand, was

mostly wheezing and raspy. I always thought it sounded like an elephant fighting a snake. Bidding Kath goodbye and fixing my bag over my shoulder one last time, I made my way down the flaky sidewalk towards the towering college building only a few blocks away. Madame Doniya had thankfully been lenient on my shift today. She didn't give me as much brunt work as she usually did, which meant that I wouldn't be sore for my meeting and shuffling in my seat while Mr. Noir spoke. The school grounds were dark when I arrived. Professor Alvarez was waiting by the cafeteria entry, closest to the library exit. The moon sat above him like a spotlight, bright and blue. He looked like he was getting ready to sing in a Broadway musical, which was definitely not something I could see Professor Alvarez doing. "Adrienne." He nodded to me, shaking my hand. "Mr. Noir is already inside." Noting the panic rising in my breathing, he chuckled lowly. "Don't worry. You are perfectly on time. Mr. Noir just arrived early." I loudly let out the breath that I had been holding, blushing. "Okay. Are you going to wait here...or...?" Professor Alvarez sighed. "Well, the janitors have already left and I can't leave you on school ground alone—it's in the rulebook, so I suppose I will be waiting here." "Won't you get bored?" "Oh, I don't think so." He patted his thick satchel. "I have a pile of papers to grade and new books to put call numbers on. I can assure you that I will be quite busy." I grinned. "Thank you, Professor Alvarez." He nodded. "Of course," and gestured to the rusty doors behind him.

~****~

The cafeteria lights were on when I opened the door. Day-old chicken nuggets and ranch dressing wafted to my nose, and usually, my mouth would be watering, but since I had just eaten my dinner and a mint, it wasn't very appealing at the time. Taking a couple of hesitant steps into the canteen, I caught sight of a shadowy figure sitting casually on one of the benches, his eyes already on my body before I could who it was. He smiled, cute dimples poking his tan cheeks. His dark eyes traveled down my frame, quickly meeting mine. Standing from the table, he smoothly brushed back his bushy dark hair, striding towards me. "Miss. Adrienne Walker, we meet again," Lazareth Noir murmured, bending softly to kiss the back of my hand. I gaped at him. My heart dropped in my chest, but just as quickly, it began to jump up and down, giggling like a schoolgirl who just met Justin Bieber. "Y-You...we met yesterday, right? At the library?" I managed, attempting to gather any dignity I had left by smoothly taking my hand away. He rose. "Yes. I took your advice about the books, by the way," he said. His eyes roamed over me with more freedom now, like he was searching for something. "Oh? Did you find one to your liking?" I asked, allowing him to lead me to one of the benches. His hand was hard, but warm around mine. It sent electric shocks through my skin and in my veins, heightening my senses like a new light bulb. "Yes, actually. I believe it was titled The Fault in Our Stars." "Oh! A lot of teenagers enjoy that book!" I gasped, smiling. "Have you started reading it yet?" "Not yet. I'm afraid I got caught up in work." He smiled gently. "But perhaps I can start tonight, seeing as you enjoy that book." "I do," I blushed. "But we should probably get this interview going while we

can. It's pretty late and I don't want to be keeping you." "I beg to differ," he smirked. "You aren't keeping me from anything, Miss. Walker. I would gladly spend all night here answering your questions if I could." I was pretty sure my heart had stopped beating when he said that he would stay the entire night with me. It was already mind-boggling enough that I was having a normal conversation with one of the richest men in the world, but for him to insinuate something like that? So soon? And with a girl, he barely knows? Shakily, I laughed, pulling the heavy recorder from my backpack. "I would too," I decided honestly, peeking up from the side of the table to gauge his reaction. A ghost of a smile ed over his lips, his eyes as hard as ever. "Wonderful," he murmured. "Now then, what is your first question, Miss. Walker?" "What inspired you to get into the real estate business?" I asked, clearing my throat quietly to hide my stutter. I was pretty sure that I was still blushing. My heart was definitely doing backflips, my mind squealing. "What inspired me?" Mr. Noir repeated carefully, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Well, I suppose poverty would be a sufficient answer. I was born into not a well-off family. My father died when I was young and my mother didn't remarry. She raised me and my brother and sister on her own by begging on the streets. Somehow, she was able to smuggle me into the United States, and after I was old enough to get a job and make a living, I worked to give back to the world and not let my mother's efforts go to waste." Of course. I knew he would say something like that, I thought to myself, nodding. "Do you like being in the realtor field of business? Would you have chosen a different area of business if you could?" I questioned, gazing at him from underneath my long bangs. He smiled. "I enjoy being in the real estate field. I like seeing my customer's faces light up when they realize that they finally have a place to call home. It... reminds me of my mother..." his smile dropped for a moment but quickly returned. "Excuse me. I have never been this open in an interview before."

My heart squeezed for him, but again, my interest was piqued. "Really? You don't get these questions in other interviews?" He laughed, a soft, deep laugh. "Oh, I do. It's just...with you...you seem like you can read right through me if I were telling I lie. I feel compelled to tell you the truth, Miss. Walker." He nodded towards the papers. "Anything else?" My mouth felt heavy, filled with saliva, and my burning hands flipped the packet. "What's your favorite color?" It was a juvenile question, I know. But if Professor Alvarez approved of it, then I was going to ask it. Besides, I was curious. Mr. Noir's eyes widened for a split second, as though he were taking in the absurdity of the question before his lips broke out into a large, dimpled smile. "Black," he replied softly. "Black?" I repeated, partially in confusion, and partially so that the mic heard his answer. "Why black?" "Black is often an overlooked color," he explained. "It's dark, it's evil, but it's so...misunderstood. It craves attention and if given a chance, it can prove to be just as beautiful as any other color." "Wow..." I bit my lip, smiling at him. "That's really inspirational." He shrugged. "It's just what I feel." "Okay..." I studied the page. "If you could go back in time and tell yourself one thing, what would it be?" He stayed silent for a moment, thinking. "I would tell myself to speak up before it's too late," he said. "I have many regrets from my past, Miss. Walker, but the thing I regret the most...is not speaking up." I wanted to ask him more about what he meant—he was being so vague. But his eyes were pinched and his lips were pressed in a thin line. He didn't want to say

anymore. So, I didn't press him, despite my mind begging me to. I crossed the question off the paper and swallowed the hot saliva in my throat. "Why were you at the library yesterday?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. "Was it out of curiosity?" He chuckled. "No, not exactly. I have been to the library before...with bodyguards, but I went there specifically to feel normal." I raised my eyebrow and he flushed. "Well, I suppose I didn't exactly look normal, but it's nice to feel a sense of normalcy in a while, especially when you're in my world." "That I can understand," I agreed. "It's nice to go out regardless." I crossed the question off. "And that concludes our interview, Mr. Noir." I shut off the recorder. "The interview went quicker than I expected it to," he observed, rising from the table. He gave me his calloused hand. "My previous interviews have all sured an hour at least." I shrugged. "I told you—I didn't want to keep you here for long." "And I told you—I'd stay here the whole night to answer your questions," he rebutted promptly. "I enjoyed my time with you, Miss. Walker—!" "Adrienne," I cut in. He gave me a quizzical look, and I blushed. My heart still thrummed in my chest. "I know we may not meet each other again, Mr. Noir, but please, call me Adrienne." "Adrienne." My name melted on his tongue, like the rich liquor Kath drinks after she es a test. "You have a beautiful name." I smiled, toying with my fingers. "Thank you! Your name isn't bad either..." "You can say it," he grinned. "Lazareth isn't a very common name, I know. However, I do want to meet you again, contrary to your belief, Adrienne." "What?" I fumbled with the doorknob. Again, I thought my heart had stopped. "W-What do you mean, Mr. Noir?"

"Firstly, call me Lazareth," he ordered. When I didn't say anything, he cocked his head to the side, making a small ticking sound, and I shocked myself out of my trance. "Lazareth?" I tested his name. It left a slightly sour taste, but it wasn't like a cough drop. It was more like I was eating sour candy. "Yes, that's my name," he smiled. "Secondly, I do want to see you again, Adrienne." "Why?" "Because you intrigue me," Lazareth replied simply. "You didn't recognize me yesterday in the library and you still treated me with respect. And even when you found out who I am, you didn't treat me any different. You spoke to me...differently. Freely. And I like that." "I wasn't sure if I was speaking with enough respect or not," I flushed. "But, um, I wouldn't mind indulging in your intrigue, Lazareth." "Wonderful," he smirked, and with new numbers on our phones, Lazareth and I parted ways, walking to the opposite doors of the cafeteria.

Chapter 4

"What do you think of this dress?" The clang of hangers brought my attention to where Kath was standing. She held up a frilly pink dress with a small cleavage and many folds. It looked strapless, but there were so many frills it was difficult to tell where the dress started and ended. "Why so...pink?" I asked. She shrugged. "I'll be blushing the whole night. Might as well dress to match the color of my eyes, right?" "Blushing from Matt? Or from dancing?" I smirked at her from where I sat on the bench outside the dressing room. Setting my phone in my bag, I stood to help Kath with the pile of dresses she was juggling. "Oh, probably from the alcohol," she giggled. "I heard Mike's going to try and spike the punch." I rolled my eyes. "That's a bit cliche, don't you think?" "Coming from Mike, no, not really." She dropped the dresses she didn't want on the bench. "How are things between you two, anyway?" "Tense," I itted. "I got him scolded by both Professor Haynes and Alvarez." "Alvarez, I can understand, but Haynes? Since when does she yell?" Kath questioned. "Since Mike put gum on her chair, apparently," I scoffed. "Why are you asking about Mike, anyway?" Kath winced. "I was just worried about you, Adrienne. After all, you and Mike..."

"That was a long time ago, Kath," I snapped, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Maybe Mike hasn't moved on, but I sure have. I'm not sure we'll be able to mend that crack again." "You never know." Kath led me towards the cashier line. "People change." "Tell me when Mike does." "Sure," she sighed. "But that doesn't just erase him from your past, you know? He'll always be there." "I know," I grumbled under my breath. "That doesn't mean I think about him every second of my life, though." "He does," she stated. "And sure, he's a bit pushy and all—!" "Pushy?" I exploded, drawing eyes towards me. I blushed, and once they all twisted away, I glared at Kath. "Mike's not just pushy! He doesn't know when to stop pushing boundaries, Kath! He's pushing my boundaries with what he calls banter!" Kath remained quiet for a few moments, pressing a fake smile onto her lips in front of the cashier. Once she was finished paying for her graduation dress, she and I both slipped into the food court, ordering and sitting at a corner table. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to push you about Mike. I knew you guys had a tense relationship after...everything that happened. I just thought that maybe...I don't know, you guys would make up." "When he's ready to apologize, let me know," I said. "But apology accepted. I know how you feel about Mike, anyway." "He has changed, though," she itted, thanking the waitress that brought the fries we ordered together. "He's more flamboyant than before. And he has adopted a habit of calling girls who don't go out with him 'whores'." "That's Mike," I scoffed, chewing on a fry. "People change, for better or for worse." "Yeah, but why are we talking about Mike?" Kath grinned. "Graduation is

coming up. Are you excited to finally wash hands with Professor Alvarez?" "He's not that bad, Kath," I giggled. "Sure, he intimidates me and gives me terrible anxiety, but he's not a horrible monster. At least, not how you think he is." "I always wondered why he seemed to favor you," Kath mused, picking the salt off her fry. "Out of curiosity, what do you guys do when you're alone?" "Nothing much," I shrugged. "He just gives me some favors to do for him, like the interview. Sometimes he just asks me to bring things to other teachers or go over some work with him." "Has he ever...touched you?" "What do you mean?" "Like...you know, just brushes or taps on the shoulder?" Kath dropped the tomato she didn't want on her sandwich on my plate, eyeing me. "Has he ever done those?" "Yes." I frowned at her over the rim of my sandwich. "Why are you asking?" "Just curious," she answered quickly. "I told you: Alvarez favors you. I was just wondering..." she paused for a moment, then shook her head, chuckling. "Never mind. It's stupid." "What?" I quirked an eyebrow at her. "What's stupid about me and Alvarez?" "Nothing," she replied briskly, taking a large bite of her sandwich. "He's married, anyway. I don't think it's what I'm thinking." I didn't ask her again what she meant throughout the time we ate lunch, but that didn't mean I didn't think about it. What had she been insinuating? That Alvarez was taking advantage of me? Kath knew better than that, but I suppose it would be a plausible thought, considering that whenever he talked to me, we were alone...with no one else. Maybe that's why Mike thought I was using him for grades, I thought. But I know myself better than Mike and Kath do. Alvarez is married, and I wouldn't use him

for grades. Besides, he's not my type...not like Lazareth, at least. In my mind, I saw the same, lion-like, beady eyes and clean, tan skin. I saw the dark, bushy hair and careful, almost cruel-looking smirk. Lazareth was anything but cruel, though. He was sweet, polite, and if not, a bit awkward. He was good at making my heart do exercise, though. "You've been quiet for a while," Kath noted. "Did I offend you?" "Of course, not!" I waved her worries aside, squeezing her hand. "I can see why you and Mike both thought that the nature of my relationship with Professor Alvarez was more than...well, professor and student, but I promise, Kath, it isn't. I'm not stupid." She smiled. "I know you aren't, Adrienne. I'm just worried about you, especially when it comes to men." "Did this worry start after...you know what?" "Yeah. That's when your panic attacks started." She grimaced. "Have you been taking your meds, by the way?" I nodded. "Gryffin would kill me if I wasn't." Grinning, we clinked our glasses. "Ever the protective brother, huh?" Kath teased. "What did he say about Noir?" "Lazareth?" I blurted. "Oh, um, he doesn't...know?" Kath's eyes widened. "You didn't tell him?" She hissed. I shook my head, a silly smile tugging on my lips. "No. I knew he'd freak out. Especially since he idolizes Lazareth." "Yeah, he does," she agreed. Then, she frowned. "Wait, Lazareth?" "Yes..." I drawled. "That's his name...?" "You actually got permission to call him by his first name!" Kath exclaimed. She grinned maniacally. "How? Did he tell you? How was he? God, I didn't even ask

about the interview! How did it go?" I giggled, patting her head. "It went well. Quickly, but well. He was very open with me..." I blushed, and Kath noticed. "Did he flirt with you?" She asked, her voice raising an octave higher. Surprisingly, it didn't attract the attention of the other people dining. I bit my lip, chewing so that I could taste the liquid iron once again. "Uh, yeah, he did. We actually exchanged phone numbers—!" "You did WHAT?!" Kath propelled herself into my face. Her dark eyes resembled those of someone who hadn't slept for days. They were bloodshot and her veins trickled towards her pupil. "I... gave him my number," I repeated meekly, leaning away from her. Kath stared at me for a few moments, then slowly receded back into her seat. I heard her sigh and drop her head into her hands. When she did finally look back up at me, her eyes were back to normal, and she had a soft smile on her face. "Adrienne and Lazareth—that has a good ring to it," she murmured, shaking my hand and squeezing. "Are you okay with this? With him?" I pulled at my lip, smiling coquettishly and looking away. "He's different, Kath," I said. "I know he's a billionaire, and even though I'm still terrified about the media, he spikes something in me, you know?" "I know." She beamed. "I know that feeling. I'm happy for you, Adrienne." "It's not like we're together, though," I quickly added. "He just gave me his phone number because he thought I was interesting...? Does that mean anything?" "Hell yeah!" Kath piled our plates. "He thinks you're interesting, right? Well, soon, he's going to go from curious to thinking of nothing else but you. Just watch." "I don't think that's good for a CEO," I chuckled. "But maybe? I'll see how this

goes. I've never had relations, even platonic relations, with anyone as famous as him. Not since Mike..." "Forget Mike, Adrienne," Kath ordered. "You have a new...acquaintance, soon friend, then maybe-boyfriend. I have to ask, though: are you ready for the publicity that comes with dating a billionaire? Especially one as famous as Lazareth? Paparazzi practically follow him to the bathroom!" "I know," I sighed. "I'm scared of that bit, but I'm hoping he keeps our meetings lowkey, you know? I don't want any fame." "Well, I'm not sure how that will go," Kath grumbled. "Noir bathes in publicity, literally! There's always something new about him every day in the newspaper. It's like he's an open book!" "He actually isn't," I blurted. "When I spoke to him during the interview, he itted that he didn't usually take interviews because he was always asked questions he didn't want to answer." "Like his love life?" "What do you mean?" "In all of his interviews, Noir always laughs around answering questions about his romantic relationships," Kath mentioned. She pulled her phone from her purse, pulling up a fan page of Lazareth. There were videos of him on a seat with a popular nightly or daytime show host, laughing and smiling his dimpled smile. "This isn't the Wikipedia page for him, but it's more reliable in a way cause it's run by an ex-employee of Noir." "Really?" I gaped at the page. "How did they get away with it?" "She," Kath corrected. "And I'm not sure. I guess Noir doesn't keep tabs on who writes articles about him. He could have BDSM fanfictions on him for all he knows or cares." I shook my head, blinking. "Okay, firstly, literally nobody asked if he does BDSM. Secondly, why wouldn't he care?" "He's a billionaire, Adrienne. He has more important work to do than reading the

fantasies of a sixteen-year-old girl," Kath sneered. "I've read some of them and trust me, it scars you!" "Now you're getting off-topic," I teased, shoving her shoulder playfully. "To any person, it looks like you have a crush on Lazareth Noir." "I do not," she scowled. "But he is interesting...anyway, where was I?" "The BDSM fanfictions?" "No, before that." "The fan-page?" "Oh, right!" Kath clicked a few buttons on the webpage, and soon, a transcript of an interview Lazareth took with Moonlight popped up. She scrolled down a few paragraphs to Lazareth's answer to one of the questions. "This is after Yasmin Page asked Noir about his love life," Kath explained, eyeing me as I read the paragraph. "You can see it, right? Lazareth laughs his way through the question and mutters something. It's practically gibberish!" "It does look like that," I observed. "But maybe he's just a private person?" Although that contrasts greatly with the overt answers, he gave me during our interview. "I did manage to find one time when he spoke of his relationships, though," Kath said. "He itted that he's pansexual, but that's about it. It's why he donates to charities ing coming out." "That's all he's said about his love life? That he's pansexual?" I asked. "I mean, granted, that is a lot as it is, but really? No mentions of any past relationships?" "None." Kath clicked the button on the side of her phone, the screen flickering black. "I have to ask you though, Adrienne, are you prepared to enter his world? Even after you said you wouldn't?" "I wouldn't say I'm completely ready," I mumbled, still trying to process what I

just read. "But he's giving me a chance to know a different side of him. Everyone else only knows billionaire hot-shot Lazareth Noir. Apart from maybe his past relationships and his family, who else knows the person behind the mask?" "You're right," Kath agreed. "But a word of caution before you see him again?" I frowned. A word of caution? Why would she caution me against Lazareth? "Okay...?" I raised my eyebrow. "What is it?" "In the world of billionaires, nobody is your friend. Be careful."

Chapter 5

The white dress stroked my knees, swishing gently in the breeze coming from my open window. The peasant sleeves puffed proudly around my arms, sparkling in the bright sun. I regarded myself in the mirror with my eyes narrowed judgmentally. The dress stretched at my hips, but curved at the corset Kath squeezed onto me earlier in the morning. Even though it was supposed to be a graduation dress, it reminded me more of a wedding dress. Sparkly and white. Fluffy and poufy, but also simple and conservative. I never favored those revealing gowns, anyway. Beside the full-body mirror I kept near my bathroom, there was a dark oak dresser. My step-dad had carved it for me when I was a child, and ever since then, it's all I used to keep my clothes and accessories. I pulled on one of the drawers, dust billowing in my face. The metal latch clanged back against the holder and as I brushed the dust aside, I got a better look at what I was reaching for. A ruby-embedded hairclip that had once been my grandmothers on my biological father's side stood out blatantly in the piles of white and gold. I saved it for a special day, and graduating from college was certainly a special day in my book. Tucking a few wavy locks of light purple hair behind my head, I clipped the strands in place, iring my new look in the mirror. It really brought out the green hue in my eyes, or so, Kath told me. "Adrienne? Are you ready?" Gryffin's knocked on my door, entering when I replied. He had his brown hair slicked back and his grey eyes alight with mischief. He wore a suit, unlike the rugged rugby clothes he usually wore. Mom most likely convinced (read: threatened) him to look nice.

"You look good, Lil sis," he smiled, walking closer to me to ruffle my hair. I snorted. "Are you sure? I don't look chubby, do I?" "Nah. You look amazing, Adri," Gryffin assured. "Although you look like you're getting married instead of graduating. I shoved his chest, effectively putting some space between us with a laugh. "That's what I told Kath! She never listens to me, though. You know her." "Yeah, I do." A forlorn look crossed Gryffin's eyes, and for a moment, he looked sad. Quickly, though, he masked it, handing me an orange pill bottle with a tentative smile on his face. "I think you'll be needing these," he motioned to the cup he had somehow placed on the table without me noticing. "I how nervous you used to get in big crowds." "And I still do," I murmured, taking the pills and the water. "Are Mom and Dad coming?" "They said they'd meet us at the afterparty," he replied, taking the glass back from me. He rocked on his heels, whistling lowly. "So... how are you feeling?" "Nervous, but also excited, I guess. I can get a job now," I shrugged. "I'll be free from classes and Professor Haynes." "Ah, good ole Haynes." Gryffin chuckled. "That's true. You will be free from her —and Alvarez." He frowned. "Speaking of Alvarez, you mentioned that he gave you a project to do? What was it?" I froze for a moment, realizing that I hadn't told Gryffin about my meeting with Lazareth, but brushed it aside with a sigh. He was bound to know at one point. "He had me interview Lazareth Noir," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "The billionaire?" "Yeah."

"What?!" Gryffin gripped my shoulders, shaking me. I laughed. "You interviewed the Lazareth Noir and you didn't think to tell me! What the fuck, Adrienne!" I pushed him away from me, daintily putting my hand over my lipstick-covered mouth and laughing. "Uh, yeah? I guess I just forgot to tell you. Sorry?" "You're such a..." Gryffin groaned, mumbling the rest of his sentence while sending me a dirty stare. "How did it go? I heard he was going to be at your graduation?" "It went quickly," I said, opting to leave out the phone-number bit. "He answered all the questions I asked and we went on our separate ways. I think it should be aired soon on TV." "And Alvarez asked you to do this?" When I nodded, Gryffin whistled louder, blowing some of his hair in the process. "Damn, you must be a favorite of his then. Alvarez runs the newspaper club. If he didn't like you, I'd bet he would have picked someone from there." "He never did specify why he chose me," I itted, fixing my hair again. "But I don't regret meeting Laz—Mr. Noir." "What was he like?" "Polite, definitely." I slipped my flats on, following Gryffin out of my room towards our tiny living room. "He was actually pretty friendly, though. Intimidating, but he definitely didn't seem cold or harsh, at least, not like I thought he would be." "He must've been in a good mood, then," Gryffin grumbled. "What do you mean?" I asked, frowning at him. Lazareth did seem like he was in a good mood, but I presumed that he was always like that. Sure, his vibe was hard and cold but wasn't that always a reverse psychology thing? Looks cold but acts incredibly sweet? "It's...nothing," Gryffin decided after a few moments of silence, grunting. He

stopped in front of the hallway mirror, fixing his tie. "Well, now I'm curious," I prodded. "Then don't be," he snapped, tugging my braid. "It's nothing, Adrienne. Don't start stressing about it. I guess I just believe in the cold, billionaire stereotype, okay?" I scowled. "Lazareth is anything but cold. He's just a billionaire—so what? Maybe he has to act cold to keep a reputation, but he's a sweet guy, Gryffin!" Gryffin eyed me, correcting his tie silently and grabbing his car keys. I glared at him from the corner of my eye, knawing on my lip. How could he think so harshly about someone that he hardly knew about? He didn't know the Lazareth I did. He didn't see the vulnerable man who's only seen for his money. Gryffin didn't know Lazareth. But neither did I.

~****~

"Congratulations." The principal shook my hand, handing me my diploma with a large, dimpled smile on his cheeks. I blushed, accepting the scrolled-up piece of paper and walking briskly across the wooden, squeaky stage. Kath clapped me on the back of my shoulder, squealing and shaking me. "We did it, Adrienne!" She exclaimed. "We did it! We graduated!" "We sure did," I beamed, hugging her tightly. Behind her, through the crowds of newly graduated adults congratulating each other and hugging and kissing, I caught Lazareth talking quietly. I don't think he noticed me, at least, not right away. His posture was tight, which somehow made his whole suit tighten as though he had large muscles wanting to break through the silky fabric of his navy-blue suit. He rubbed the handsome stubble on his chin, his eyes hard and a frown piercing his lips. In the damp light of the sun, it looked as though his skin was almost grey and his eyes resembled a

pearl. "Is it just me, or does his skin look grey in the sun?" Kath asked, speaking my thoughts. She handed me a flute of sparkling water, which I accepted slowly. "It does. I think it's the reflection of the trees behind him, though," I smirked, pointing to the shady trees towering above Lazareth and the other rich men, who also had pearly eyes and greying skin. "Bummer," she grumbled, nudging me. "Are you gonna go talk to him?" Feeling eyes on me, I turned as my lips parted to answer Kath's question. Lazareth's dark eyes gazed at me from afar. When our eyes met, he smiled his dimpled smile at me, winking. I turned back abruptly to Kath, hiding the heat rising to my cheeks, and probably, the crimson color that came with my embarrassment. "Not yet," I replied. "I'm gonna go find my family. Wanna come with me?" "Nah," Kath shook her head. "I gotta go see if my sister came. She had to pick up my brothers from Wisconsin. They drove here." "Damn." I hugged her again. "Well, if I don't see you later, congrats, again." "You too, Adrienne." With one more hug and squeeze, Kath and I both pushed through the crowd—her in search of her family, and me to find a way away from Lazareth's scorching eyes. I spotted Gryffin and Vincent hanging around by the food table. Besides them, my Mom and my Step-Dad stood, both drinking flutes of champagne and eating tiny sandwiches. "Adrienne!" My mother rushed up to me, bringing me tightly into her arms. "Congratulations, honey! I'm so proud of you!" "As am I," my Step-Dad rumbled, squeezing my shoulder as Kath had done. "Congratulations, Adrienne."

"Did you get anything?" Vincent popped between my Mom and me, pushing us apart from each other. "Preferably gold or food?" I smirked, ruffling his gelled hair. "No, I got a certificate which allows me to get a real job and make some real money, little bro." "Aww! I want to be rich too!" Vincent complained, pouting up at my Mom. She smiled at him. "You'll be just like Adrienne and Gryffin soon, Vin. All you have to do is pay attention in class, that's all." "Yeah, or go be a trash collector," Gryffin teased, tugging Vincent's hair. "But why are we talking about Vin's future when Adrienne just graduated? We should celebrate!" "We should," I agreed. "It's been a while since we've seen you guys." "I suppose going out tonight wouldn't hurt," Mom agreed, taking another flute. "We have to be at the airport by seven tomorrow, though." "And Vin's coming with us," my Step-Dad grinned, shaking Vincent's shoulders. He groaned. "Back to base-camp," he grumbled. "You'll live," I deadpanned, pinching his cheeks. He jerked away from me, glaring, and Gryffin, and I both laughed. Even my Step-Dad cracked a smile. "Where's Kathryn?" Mom asked, inspecting the gold diploma I had received. "She went to see her sister," I explained, garbling down a cookie. "They drove from Wisconsin." "So I heard," my Step-Dad grumbled. "That's all Dave would talk about. I swear, that Kathryn is just like her father." "They didn't come?" "No. Kathryn's other sister is having a baby," Mom explained. "Do you want to leave now, Adrienne? Or do you want to stay? It's alright if you want to stay—!"

"No, let's go have some family time," I said, smiling. "I would rather spend my graduation with you guys instead of with a crowd of people...I don't like crowds." "Oh," Mom squeezed my cheek. "I know, honey. Have you been taking your meds?" "Yes, Mom," I groaned. "Every day. If I forget, Gryffin makes sure to splash it on my face." Mom glared at Gryffin but he grinned, shrugging sheepishly. "You made me promise to remind her. You never said how," he emphasized. "Boys." Mom shook her head, although she was smiling. "Excuse me?" Lazareth slid up to our group like he was floating, his head right next to my neck and so close to my ear I could practically feel his warm breath. "Oh! You're Lazareth Noir, right?" Mom grinned from ear to ear. "I-I've heard a lot about you!" "Yes, I am. And thank you." Lazareth smiled. "It's nice to meet you. Are you...?" "She's my Mom," I supplied, internally groaning at the starstruck expressions of my family as they ogled Lazareth. "The man beside her is my Step-Dad and the other two boys are my brothers; Gryffin and Vincent." "A pleasure to meet you," Lazareth said curtly, his warm fingers wrapping around my arm. "If you don't mind, could I borrow Adrienne for a moment?" "Oh—absolutely!" Mom hastened to push me towards Lazareth even though I was already standing pretty close to him. "We'll be waiting for you in the parking lot, Adrienne." She winked at me, and with a swirl of her 90s-resembling blue dress, she and my family disappeared, leaving only bread crusts in their wake.

"Only Vincent," I grumbled, shaking my head. I was screaming in my head at the embarrassment of my parents. Why did Lazareth have to come now? "I hope I didn't disturb any plans you had," Lazareth murmured, his voice as smooth as creamy chocolate. "I'll only be a moment, Adrienne, I promise." "Oh, take your time!" I assured, grinning a bit too widely at him. "Knowing how obsessed my family is about you, I'm sure they wouldn't mind!" And that was another perfect thing to say. Nice work, Adrienne, I clapped sarcastically in my head. Luckily, Lazareth smiled perfectly, chuckling. "I'm glad they like me," he said softly, eyeing me up and down. His breath hitched. "If you don't mind, I must say, you look quite ravishing in that dress. I could hardly take my eyes off you on stage." I scoffed quietly, looking at my sparkly flats. "I-It's okay," I mumbled, aware from the viewpoint I had that Kath was staring at me, probably with her signature maniacal grin on her lips. "Um...what is it that you wanted, if you don't mind...?" "Ah, right!" Lazareth pulled a medium-sized, square box from his suit pocket, handing it to me. He watched as I inspected the purple-wrapped box, testing the weight in my hands. "What is it?" I asked, juggling the box gently. Lazareth smirked, daintily pulling his hand out of his pocket to push the box closer to me like I was hugging it to my chest. "Don't open it until you get home, okay? As a favor to me?" "Okay," I smiled, clutching the box. "What is it for, though?" "Consider it a graduation present," he said. Then, his eyes hardened, and a shadow ed over his face. "But you must open it alone. Do you understand?" "Um...yeah? Okay? You didn't have to get me something, though," I agreed, a bit skeptical and unsure. I didn't want to keep my parents waiting, though, and knowing that Kath was watching us, it already felt uncomfortable to stay close to him for an abnormally long period of time. At least, to onlookers who assumed

we were just meeting. Lazareth sighed. "Good. And don't worry about the present. I wanted to get you something." He regarded his silver-eyed, shadowy millionaire friends that hung around the trees, close to the graveyard that bordered campus. "I have to go, but I'll see you later, okay, Adrienne?" "Okay..." I watched him go, glancing back down at the box again. What an odd man, I thought. Handsome, but definitely odd. He's probably just some eccentric billionaire—just like the rest of them.

~****~

It took a good amount of blackmail and convincing to get Kath to leave me alone for more than five minutes. Looking back at Lazareth's request now, I can see how it was a mistake to agree to spend the night at Kath's place, but the house I shared with Gryffin and Vincent was already too packed for my anxious brain. And I'd rather spend ten minutes convincing Kath to leave me alone than fifty for Gryffin on his own. I waited until she was in the shower to take Lazareth's gift out of my bag. The thunder of water crashing was an excellent cover-up for the loud giftunwrapping habit I never grew out of. Is it wrong that I feel bad that he got me something? I asked myself as I unwrapped the box, tugging at my lip. Maybe I should have rejected the gift? I mean, we don't even know each other that well and—Holy shit! Sitting on the pile of ripped up purple gift wrap, shimmery and clean and still wrapped in cling film— —was a new phone.

Chapter 6

The device that laid on my bed looked heavy, suddenly, like it weighed the weight of a brick. The cling film around the shiny box snickered at me, prodding me to unwrap Lazareth's very expensive graduation gift. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to lift the box up. My mind was racing and suffocating me more than my heart ever did. My palms felt sweaty and the nightgown Kath lent to me dug its lacy claws into my side. I don't deserve this, I whispered, unsure if it was in awe or in horror. My ears were ringing—no—screaming. It was like the wail of a mother losing her child that echoed in my brain, bouncing off the walls that screamed a GPA of 3.5. The cling film giggled as I scrunched it into a ball, tossing it carelessly onto the ground. Kath wouldn't appreciate the mess I was making, but I'd take one of my many rain checks for that. The phone itself was stunning if the picture on the box was accurate. A glossy screen covered by a white phone case. The logo was unusual, though. I hadn't seen it before in any ments on the T.V., but maybe it was an unreleased model? That only made my stomach tighten more. Printed neatly on the back of the phone case right in the middle was the outline of two devil horns and a circle with triangles shaped like eyes crossing in bright neon green. Open it! Open it! My mind screamed. Holding the levers to my body, it propelled my hand towards the curved top of the box, but my heart stopped it. He doesn't even know us, it argued condescendingly. I could practically see the crease of its eyebrows. How do we know that there's no catch? What if we live the rest of our life in debt because of this gift? He said it was a gift, my mind sneered. You don't repay gifts.

Sure, my heart pumped madly, scoffing. Maybe not now, but he's surely gonna come back and put our lives in a hellhole, just watch. SHUT UP! I screamed internally, even though deep down I knew I was yelling at myself. Beads of sweat dribbled down my neck and my breathing hitched several times. I wanted to throw the box into a corner, but my brain held me back. Medicine, it chanted. Or...was it saying "open?" I wasn't sure, but I wasn't listening to either of them. Abruptly, I rose from the bed, gasping over to my slouching backpack. Rousing the bag from its slumber, I clawed through the contents like an animal, searching. The phone watched me with a mirthful smirk as the tornado slammed around my head, swallowing me—making me go insane. I shouldn't be doing this...I shouldn't... my hands tingled and my pulse raced. Quickly, I checked to make sure that Kath was still singing in the shower before dragging myself to the bottle of water she had snatched from the afterparty. Medicine...Better...Present... my mind chanted repeatedly, forcing the dry pills down my throat before I could even get to the liquid required. They scratched my throat as they slid down into my stomach, taking my wheezing with them. My hands were shaking—they wouldn't stop. "Oh...Oh, God..." I pulled myself shakily back onto Kath's bed, reeling. The pills bottle smiled in my lap, shimmering with glee in the bright lights. I did it again. I shouldn't have, I know, but the panic...the fear...the mind... I needed it to stop, I consoled myself. They won't know. It's only this time...and last time...and the time before that. It won't happen again. I told myself that. I let my heart stop thrumming. I let my mind stop nagging. I told myself that it was only a few extra measly pills. I would be fine. The panic was gone. I could breathe again. I was going to be okay. Slowly, the stinging in my chest receded and my heart was able to move around more freely. My lungs weren't compressed anymore and my palms were dry again. I was able to close my eyes without wanting to keep them closed forever —at least, for now.

Out of the corner of my eye, the shiny case of the phone winked at me, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I picked it up again, taking a moment to close my eyes and breathe, the pills already working like alcohol. My addiction. "You look brand new," I murmured, pulling the ledge of the box and carefully taking the phone out of the Styrofoam. A note was attached to the back of the phone case—a sticky note with Lazareth's handwriting in curly, cursive letters and purple ink. I hope you like your graduation present. I noticed you had an older model on the day of the interview, and knowing how slow older models are, I wanted to give you this for your graduation. I wasn't sure which model you would like, but this is something the manufacturing branch of my company has been working on. The green reminded me of your eyes. -Lazareth "He was looking at my eyes," I breathed, touching the base of my eyelid with a tremor in my hand. "God, how long had he been observing me!" Probably just as long as you had been observing him, my mind sleepily snapped at me, drowsy from the extra medicine I had swallowed. Saliva gathered in my mouth and my chest tightened. Setting both the phone and the case back in the Styrofoam molds they came in, I dropped my head into my hands, squeezing the roots of my hair. Something warm coursed inside of me, like anger, and I bit my lip. Immediately, blood dribbled onto my tongue, relaxing my nerves. "He's spending money on a girl he doesn't even know," I scoffed, wiping my eyes. "What am I supposed to do with this? I-I can't use it! It's so expensive! And... since when has Lazareth owned a manufacturing company?" "Since always," Kath's hard voice replied. I shot up from the bed just as the bathroom door opened, revealing my completely dry friend clad in her pajamas, glaring daggers at me. If the stinging from my panic before wasn't painful, Kath's angry eyes sure were. "Kath..."

"No, don't you Kath me," she scowled. "You purposefully sent me in the bathroom to open a present from Lazareth Noir! Do you take me for an idiot, Adrienne?!" "I don't! Kath I..." I looked back at the present and the note. "He told me not to open it in front of anybody, okay? Why are you getting so angry about it, anyway?" "Because I don't trust that guy," she growled lowly, striding over to her bed. She picked the device up, turning it around in her hands. "Don't get any fingerprints on that," I warned, sitting cautiously beside her. "I'm going to return it to him." "Good luck trying," Kath scoffed. "If I know anything about Noir from the articles I've read, is that you have to accept a gift from him. It's basically a law, Adri." "I don't have to," I rebutted, snatching the phone back. I reached for the phone case, snapping it into place. The logo warmed on my palm. "It's too expensive, Kath! And for me? He's only known me for a couple of weeks!" "Welcome to celebrity speed dating," Kath grumbled, her eyes hooded. "Look, Adrienne, like it or not, you're already caught up in his world. There's no door to the exit." "Well, I'm going to find one," I stated firmly. "I don't want to be in this world, Kath, no matter how attracted I am to Lazareth. He's a billionaire. I'm a... well, I'm a college grad. We live in two separate worlds. They aren't supposed to collide." "Yeah? Well, thank Alvarez, then," Kath said. "You can talk to Noir about this later, Adrienne, but—" her eyes lit up eagerly, any trace of her previous anger disappearing like chocolate does after sitting for a mere few seconds in front of one of my brothers. "Let's turn this thing on! See what it does! It's an unreleased model, right?" "Uh, yeah, I guess." I handed her the note Lazareth enclosed with his gift. "Don't you need a SIM card for that?"

Kath snapped her fingers. "Right." She took my old phone from my bag, switching the SIM cards and toying with a few of the buttons on the phone. The screen blinked open, revealing a bright white light and a buffering neon green devil logo. After leaving Kath to toy with the buttons for a few more moments, she finally got to the home screen once all of my information was ed. Almost immediately, the mail icon popped with two new emails. "Do you want to check it out?" She asked, handing me my present. "It's pretty dope, I gotta it. Leave it to Noir to get the goods." "It's dope?" I repeated, giggling. I scrolled through the apps, marveling at the brightness of the screen and how quickly everything moved. Lazareth was right. This is definitely faster than my old phone. "Hey, you want me to put your pills away?" Kath asked, shaking the bottle. I snapped my head up so quickly I thought I would break my neck, my heart spiking. "Uh...yeah. I don't know why they're out now..." "Neither do I. You're only supposed to take these in the morning..." she eyed me with her dark, intimidating eyes, maybe almost more intimidating than Lazareth's! Quickly, I looked down, avoiding eye , and she sighed. My bag rustled with her putting the pills away, and internally, I sighed. "Lazareth sent an email," I said, tapping her shoulder. "What did he say?" I frowned, swiping at the screen. "Nothing...the subject is kinda vague...oh..." "What is it?" Kath's warm breath fanned on my neck from behind me, craning her neck over my shoulder to see what he sent me. She gasped. "Is that an..." her giddy eyes met mine, alight and shining brighter than the moon. I blushed, tugging on my nail with my teeth. "It is. It's an application to work in Olympian Deals!"

"Eee!" Kath squealed, shaking my shoulders. She hugged me tightly, shaking me again. "I can't believe it! You got an application!" I shrugged. "Not even an interview request too. An actual application." "He was probably assessing you when you interviewed him...and at the graduation," Kath rolled her eyes. "What are you going to do about it, Adri?" "What do you mean?" I frowned at her. "Do you think I'm going to accept it?" She raised her eyebrow. "Why wouldn't you? You like Noir, don't you?" "Firstly, his name's Lazareth," I smirked. "And secondly, yes, I do like him, but I don't even know the guy, Kath! He could be some psycho ax murderer for all we know!" She giggled. "That's true, he could...but he owns the biggest company in the world, Adrienne. He makes a ton of money, per hour! Can you imagine how much money you'd make if you worked for him?" "It would be a lot," I agreed. "But, apart from me not wanting to be a part of that world, don't you think we'd only distract each other from our work?" "I don't get that part," she said after a few moments of quietly thinking. "I mean, what would there be to distract you two from? Obviously, there's some chemistry, but you keep holding yourself back cause he's a billionaire and all and you don't want to get into that world—!" "I don't," I agreed. "But if I do like him, Kath...if I feel more than just a thread of attraction to him, then I know I would be willing to face my anxiety to be with him. But keep going." She rolled her eyes at my smirk. "Okay, so you might get into his world if you fall completely in love with him. But even if you do, without the romance bit, what other distractions will there be? What, you think Noir's gonna jump you? Make out like in those cheesy movies?" I shoved her off the bed playfully, giggling. "No! I mean—God, I wish! But no... not that. I just...I can't explain it right now, Kath. I need more time."

"I get that," she nodded, taking her place back on the bed. "But please be careful of him, Adrienne. Even if you don't apply for that job, I don't think graduation will be the last we see of Noir." "It probably won't," I agreed. "But I have another option in mind for work, now that you mention it." "Really?" Kath raised a curved eyebrow, peering at the other email in my inbox. "What other job requests have you gotten? Where is it?" "Keating Enterprises."

Chapter 7

Keating Enterprises. The building was large, but I doubted that it was any bigger than my college. It was wide, definitely, and looked as though it was made entirely of glass. Two thin rods swayed in the wind above the fragile-like building, probably for lighting storms. Although, compared to any of the other buildings on the same street, Keating Enterprises was the runt of the pack. Beneath my feet, small chips of granite clattered around me, dancing under the vibrations of the construction work that was taking place just across the street from me. One of the men caught my eye, waving with a wide grin. Scoffing, I waved back, attempting to match his good mood. In reality, though, I was nervous as fuck. In my boots, I could feel my feet shaking. My heart was thumping madly in my chest and again, my palms felt sweaty. Secretly, I wished that I had taken more than one pill that morning, but Gryffin's butt seemed like it was glued to the kitchen stool—he didn't move an inch! My watch beeped with the notification I had put the night before to warn me when I was due for my appointment. Or, ten minutes prior, at least. I closed my eyes, clutching my bag, and taking a couple of big, deep breaths, repeating a soft mantra in my head that everything would go well. It was only an interview, after all. There were only about fifty reasons I could chalk up as to what could go wrong. Maybe I should have just taken Lazareth's offer, I groaned to myself, rushing inside the lobby to catch the closing elevator. Once inside, I bowed my head sheepishly at the disgruntled-looking man who held the door open for me, shuffling to the back. The mantle above the elevator kept sliding towards the right until it finally reached my floor: Floor 15, the top of the building. The man grunted as I shoved my way past him, not that I meant to in the first place. Before I could apologize

to him, the doors squealed shut. I looked around for a moment, observing the somewhat plain-looking waiting room. A reception desk stood idly beside the elevator doors with a small waiting area behind it. Next to a couple of chairs was a metal door, probably leading to the CEO's office. "May I help you?" A beautiful blonde woman with oceanic eyes questioned politely, smiling as I approached her. "Um, yes," I fixed the strap of my bag on my shoulder. "I'm here for an interview with Mr. Keating?" "Your name, please?" "Adrienne Walker." "Adrienne..." she repeated my name under her breath softly. The mouse beside her clicked a couple of times before she smiled and handed me an ID. "I'll go let Mr. Keating that you've arrived for the interview," she said. She led me towards one of the brown seats and made sure I was seated before slipping through the metal door. She was nicer than I expected, I thought, swinging my feet. I regarded the room around me, taking in the cluster of brown chairs and the flat-screen T.V hanging above a bookcase and magazine table. "This is definitely not what I expected of a CEO's office," I spoke to myself. "I suppose being underneath Olympian Deals will do that to you, though." The metal door smoothly slid open and the woman appeared again, still smiling. I got up quickly. "Mr. Keating will see you now, Miss. Walker," she said, dropping her head slightly as I ed her through the door into a dusty white hallway. "That was quick,” I commented, musing to myself how the walls resembled that of asylum.

"Being a small company, Mr. Keating does not have as much on his schedule— least, not as much as another big company CEO's like Lazareth Noir." "I've never seen his company building in real life before," I itted. "Only in pictures, my friend showed me." "It is quite big," she agreed. "Mr. Noir seems to enjoy living a big lifestyle." "Don't all billionaires?" I asked with a huffing chuckle. She laughed gently. "I suppose so. Mr. Keating himself does not live big, but I've heard his son is quite notorious for liking big and lavish things." "That sounds like someone I'm familiar with," I mentioned offhandedly, ing Mike's expensive tastes. Funny how he shared a name with a CEO yet gazed at money in a completely different way. "Here we are," the reception desk lady smiled at me. "Mr. Keating should be waiting for you inside. I'll be here to take you back once you're finished." "Thank you..." I squinted at her nametag. "Jacqueline." "Oh, Jackie is fine," she beamed. "Or Jack. I could care less, honestly." "Jackie suits you just fine," I chuckled, nodding to her before walking through the heavy oak door she held open. The office was wide, a dark red carpet hugging the floor. Large windows covered the walls, and a silver-haired man who looked about the same age as my step-dad stood in front of them as if contemplating his life with his hands clasped behind his back. "Miss. Walker?" He turned when my shoes tapped the chair in front of his desk. A warm smile, just like Jackie's, lit up his face. "A pleasure to meet you, young lady." "You as well, Mr. Keating," I reciprocated warmly, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it. Mr. Keating was an elderly man with ripples coating his skin and kind hazel

eyes. He resembled a teddy bear—plump and gentle. His chair squeaked when he sat down, his fingers clasped together again. "I was hoping you would accept an interview from our humble company," he began, fixing some papers. "When I took a look at your resume, I wasn't sure we should reach out to you. You had such exceptional reviews, why, I'd plump you got a request from Mr. Lazareth Noir himself!" I blushed at his flattery. "Well, I wanted to give this interview a try. I've never held an assistant job before." "What have you done then, before graduating?" "I worked in a daycare during high school," I said. "My mother helped me get a part-time job there. I also helped out at the office of my school—!" "What did you do at the office?" He interjected. I shrugged. "Mostly organizing paperwork. I was asked to refill the copy machine and organize the extra books a couple of times. That's...about it." "Okay." He nodded, taking a few notes on a small notepad. "What else?" Despite the loud thrumming of my heart in my ears, I was able to steel myself and answer his questions firmly, hiding my fear. "I worked at the library—well, it was mostly volunteer work, but after, I think in Japan, I got a part-time job at a Japanese cosplay shop." "Hm... You are bilingual?" "Yes." I crossed my right leg over my left leg, curling my hands on my lap. "Apart from English, I can speak French, which is my mother's native language, and Japanese from my father's side. I also know a little German—that's where my step-dad is from." "Good. It's always smart to know more than one language," Mr. Keating muttered to himself, his crinkled eyes folding in thought. "I have one more question for you, Miss. Walker."

"Yes?" "I heard you interviewed Lazareth Noir," he said, leaning closer to me over the desk. I cocked my head to the side. "Yes? What about the interview, sir?" "Were you intimidated by him?" He asked. For the first few seconds, I didn't answer. My mouth was slightly ajar while my brain rushed to find an answer for him. I wasn't sure if I should be honest or not, because truthfully, I was intimidated by Lazareth. It was just the vibe he carried around with himself—like he was a thug instead of a billionaire. "Yes," I replied, my heart sinking ever so slightly. "I was, but that was because I was unprepared. The interview request came on short notice to me, and I was not ready to be faced with his...I suppose you could say, cryptic replies to my questions." "I see..." Mr. Keating was silent for a few moments, but then, he dropped his pen with a click, standing up. I stood with him. He stared at me for maybe a minute before extending his hand to me, chuckling lowly at the quizzical tilt of my head. "I wasn't expecting that answer, quite frankly," he said, a tense smile gracing his lips. "But you surprised me, Miss. Walker. Most of the beginners here tend to lie about being faced with their fears. I'm pleasantly surprised that you have itted yours. It proves your honesty." "Well, I am not afraid of Mr. Noir, per se," I laughed awkwardly, eyeing his outstretched hand. "I was just intimidated by him." "That alone is difficult to it," Mr. Keating shrugged. "In the world of billionaires, you can't let anyone know that you're afraid. It's just how our life works." He shook his hand slightly. "But, if everything is good to go, then I have two words for you, Adrienne." "What are they?" I asked, tentatively taking his hand.

He smiled. "You're hired."

~*******~

"Kath!" I screamed on the phone as soon as I got out of the building, holding it tightly for fear the sweat from my hands would make me drop it. I wasn't sure Lazareth would appreciate me breaking his gift. "You'll never believe what happened!" "What? Noir fucked you?" Kath guessed mildly. "No!" I wished she were in front of me to see my glare. "What the hell, Kath?" "It was a guess," she said. "What is it?" "I got hired at Keating Enterprises!" I screeched, attracting the attention of erby's on the streets. I could have cared less, though. No more Madame Doniya! No more Oliver and Laurel! No more dusty, smelly books! "You did?" Now Kath really woke up, like a switch went off inside of her. "Congratulations, Adrienne! I told you all that worrying you did last night was for nothing!" "I know," I flushed. "I—!" I was cut off by a beeping sound coming from my phone. Glancing at the screen, I saw that I had another incoming call from an unknown number. "Can we actually talk later, Kath? I got a call coming in," I asked. "Sure." She cut the call and I accepted the new one, clearing my voice. "Hello?" "Good afternoon, Adrienne," Lazareth's creamy, melted voice dripped through the receiver, sending a flurry of shivers down my spine.

"Lazareth," I acknowledged, taking a sharp breath. "How are you?" "I'm fine, thank you," he replied. "I was wondering if you were busy at the moment?" "No, not at all!" I frowned. "Is everything okay?" "What? Oh, yes, it's alright," he paused. "I just wanted to meet up with you to talk. I haven't seen you since your graduation." "Now?" "Yes." "Okay," I agreed, despite my heart pleading with me to decline and go home. "Where should I meet you?" "Well, I am at the cafe right across from you, so..." "What?!" I jerked my head to the blinking cafe sign that I had always ignored, and sure enough, Lazareth Noir sat at the window, sipping what I could only assume to be coffee with a smirk on his lips as he gazed at me. Scoffing, I cut the call and trudged to the cafe. Opening the door, a rich aroma of tea, coffee, and different types of pastries slammed into my nose. It made my mouth water. "Adrienne," Lazareth flagged me over to his table. "How are you?" "I'm doing alright," I said, deciding not to tell him about my new job just yet. "What are you doing here, Lazareth? Don't you have work?" He grinned, revealing a row of straight, white teeth. "Yes, but it's my break so I decided to come here for coffee and a snack." He gestured to the menu with a tilt of his head. "Would you like anything?" "No, thank you," I smiled. "I already ate." "Ah, okay." He gazed at me for a few moments with his charcoal eyes before

glancing at the top of my phone that stuck out from my bag. He smirked. "Do you like it?" He asked. "I wasn't sure what to get you at first...that was my first time getting someone a present, so..." "I do like it, thank you," I blushed. "But you didn't have to get me anything, Lazareth." "I know," he said curtly. "I wanted to. It's my money. I can do what I want with it." "That's true," I agreed. "I want to pay you back for it, though, if you won't take it." "In all honesty, I don't want you to pay me back at all," he began. I opened my mouth to interrupt, but what looked like a malicious smirk curled on his lips. "But I just might take that rain check for another time." "Okay, deal," I said, despite my stomach churning at the gleam in his dark eyes. We sat quietly for a couple of moments. He stirred his coffee and I picked at the sugar packets lying by the napkin dispenser. It wasn't really an awkward silence, though. More like a thinking silence. Or an observation silence. Lazareth's phone rang suddenly, the tune bland and breaking the soft silence we had wrapped ourselves into. He scowled, glaring at the , then looked up at me. I nudged my head towards his phone, smiling. "You can take it. I'm not stopping you." "With eyes like those, you most certainly are," Lazareth replied like he was waiting for me to say that, leaving me speechless as he accepted the call. "What?" He snapped, hardly giving any welcome in his tone. The voice spoke quickly, and the scowl on Lazareth's lips deepened. His eyes hardened and his calloused hands formed a fist. "I don't give a fuck about what he's doing," he spat and if the lady on the other

end of the line flinched, then I didn't blame her—especially with a tone like that. I was pretty sure I had winced myself. "Listen to me, if you value your job," Lazareth continued mercilessly, stirring his coffee while speaking. "You tell him that I don't give a damn about his time limit. He forced my hand, now watch while I force his. I don't care if I have to..." At that moment, a sneeze burst out of me, and whatever Lazareth said was reduced to nothing but mumbled threats in my ears. "Would you like to go for a stroll?" Lazareth asked once his call was over. He dropped a couple of bills onto the table and took my hand gently in his, leading me out the door before I could even answer him. It seemed that I didn't have a choice, then. As we were leaving, Mr. Keating's question from the interview popped into my mind—about whether or not I was intimidated by Lazareth. At first, I was, but then that dwindled down to some sort of cursed attraction towards him. Like he was a magnet or some of my favorite custard pie that I couldn't resist. But now, seeing how he spoke to the lady, it was like he had transformed into a completely different person. He wasn't the kind, polite, if not, flirtatious Lazareth Noir. He was business-like, clipped, harsh. He even looked slightly violent. That was new, I thought to myself. Lazareth has never acted like that before. He's always been so calm and collected—where the hell did that come from? "I apologize for that," he murmured into my ear, his breath ticklish and warm. "I told them not to disturb me during my time off." "You're a CEO," I shrugged, aware of his hard hand enveloping mine. Somehow, his calloused fingers stomped on the spike of my heart from his conversation just moments ago. "It happens." "Yeah, well it shouldn't," he growled. "Work and home lives should be separate." "They should be," I agreed, my mind wandering back to his contract. I was surprised that he didn't bring it up, but that made me realize something.

If Lazareth wanted his work and his home life to be separate, then what did he want with me?

Chapter 8

"You're here on time," Jackie commented the next day, smiling her toothpaste commercial smile at me. "I like to be on time," I said, toying with the straps of my bag. "I don't want to start off badly." "That's good. Mr. Keating likes his employees to be on time." She leaned closer to me in a conspiratorial manner. "Trust me—I learned that the hard way." I grinned. "I see." I winked at her. "I'll keep a note of that, then." "I don't think you have to," she said. "You already have a good track record going for yourself, Adrienne." "Thank you," I held the elevator door for her. "And you can just call me Adri. Adrienne sounds too formal." "Okay," she beamed at me, shuffling closer to my side when the elevator stopped. A group of men in pressed, grey business suits stalked into the boxed compartment, walking almost like they were programmed to do so in a straight line. "Do they work for Mr. Keating?" I hissed, lowering my voice so that only Jackie heard me. Hopefully, at least. "No. They work for a different company," she said, wrinkling her nose when a chauvinistic-looking man sidled up to her. "Mr. Keating shares the building with other smaller companies to help pay the rent. I'm not sure which company these guys are from, though." "They look like they're from different branches," I murmured. Clipped on each man's lapel was a pin. Some had an olive branch. Others had a small Olympic building. I think one even had a barbell. "That explains the smell," she grumbled. I covered my mouth with my palm to

hide my snicker. "Ladies," the man who had slid closer to Jackie acknowledged us for the first time in that lengthy elevator ride. "Which floor are ya heading to?" "Fifteenth," Jackie replied, a hard edge in her voice. Her posture stiffened and her eyes grew cold, just like Lazareth's did when he was on the phone in the coffee shop. Something told me she had spoken to this man before. "Oh, so am I!" He grinned. "I have a meeting with Mr. Keating...or, the junior Keating, I guess." "You do?" I peered around Jackie's shoulder to gauge the arrogant, sharp-jawed, blue-eyed man. "Yeah." He grinned; his front tooth slightly crooked. "It was supposed to be with the senior Keating, but I heard that his son is taking over the fifteenth-floor office. Good riddance, I say." "Why do you say that?" I asked. The crooked-toothed guy shrugged, his lapels fanning. "His son needs to get his ass into gear and get his life started. Daddy's not always going to be there for him." "Hypocrite," Jackie growled, crossing her arms over her chest. Yep, she definitely knew this guy. Either that or she just wasn't afraid of calling bullshit, bullshit. His jaw clenched. "You're one to talk, Jack," he spat. One of the men who stood behind him shoved his shoulder just as the elevator doors dinged open. He glared at Jackie for one quick moment before following his friend out of the lift. We waited a few seconds before following. "I... take it that you don't like him?" I drawled, eyeing Jackie out of the corner of my eye. She sighed, dropping at her desk. Her blonde hair formed a canopy over her bent head.

"Laf's just a pain in my ass," she finally said. "He and I have always been like this—ever since he changed his job from Clancy Clinics to Keating Enterprises." "Laf?" "Lafayette," she clarified, flipping through the heavy blue binder she kept underneath her desk. "He's from Haiti, originally. We were classmates in school." "Oh." I patted her shoulder, squeezing gently. "At least he'll only be here for a few moments. Then he'll go to his desk and hopefully not bother you." "That's the keyword," she grumbled, although a faint smile graced her lips. "Hopefully." "Positivity," I chuckled. "Who is Mr. Keating's son, anyway?" "Some shitty flamboyant, philandering brat, that's who," Jackie scowled. "You don't need to worry about him, Adri. He's not worth your time." "You're certainly one to talk, Jack," an all too familiar nasal voice rasped. My stomach clenched. Fucking goddamned shit, I cursed, using as many profane words as I possibly could. My hands balled into tight fists and once the warm, tireless hand dropped onto my shoulder, I batted it away, leveling a hard glare at him. "Mike," I managed through gritted teeth. Michael Keating, son of Keating Enterprises CEO, grinned toothily at me. It reminded me somewhat of whenever Lazareth would get that malicious smirk on his lips, except the only difference between the two was that, while Lazareth could pull off the sexy billionaire look, Michael certainly couldn't. "Adrienne," He returned, the foolishly elated grin still plastered on his lips. Looking more like the Joker than a businessman, Mike nodded towards Jackie. "Get to work, Jack, and watch your dirty mouth," he sneered, attempting to wrap his arms around my shoulder. Carelessly, I pushed them away.

"What do you want, Mike?" I snapped once we were a good distance away from Jackie. She was still eyeing us every now and then, but more and more workers had begun to clock in for their jobs. She couldn't always keep an eye on me. Mike only smiled at me, dropping into a crouch so he could be eye-level with my seated height. "If I said that I wanted you, Adrienne, you wouldn't agree," He murmured, capturing my chin between his oily fingers. "Shove off," I growled, slapping his hand away. "I'm not some damsel in distress that you can just claim, Mike." "You're a submissive," he commented breezily. "You should be." The audacity! I had a few good words to spit back at him, my stomach boiling. How dare he call me a submissive? And in the workplace? That was far from being professional! At least Lazareth flirted outside of work. Even then, he was a gentleman with his words, unlike Mike. "Do you have anything you want me to do?" I asked, gripping my bag underneath the desk. I wanted him to leave. " If you don't, I'd like to get back to work." "Why work here, when you could be at a club with other men?" Mike continued, pushing the boundaries by leaning into my face. His dry breath puffed onto my face. "With those lovely curves, you have, Adrienne..." I felt his hand on my thigh, crawling up my leg underneath the table. My anger was practically begging me to open my mouth and let it give Mike a piece of their mind, but I couldn't risk my new job, even if it meant having to put up with Mike's utter lack of respect for boundaries. Smiling sweetly, I pinched his fingers. He yelped, jerking his hand back. His eyes glared into me, yet I continued to smile at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jackie giggling. "I have some work to do, Mr. Keating," I spoke like I was speaking to a child, smirking. "And I'm sure you do as well...?"

"Quite," he growled, glowering at me. He shot a dirty look at Jackie, who mirrored it comically, before stomping into his office like he was about to have a temper tantrum. Here we go...

~********~

"How was work?" Kath asked me later in the night, fooling around with her chopsticks. "It was...barely tolerable," I said, snatching the sticks from her and handing her a fork. She pouted at me, and I shrugged. "I met my new boss." "Sexier than Noir?" "Hardly," I scoffed. "It's Mike." "Mike?" The fork clattered on the table. I turned, and Kath's eyes immediately captured mine, inquisitive. "As in, Michael Keating? Our jerk classmate, Michael?" "Yep," I popped, sighing into my food. "He's making my life a living hell." "That's Mike," She grumbled. "But, damn, I knew the names were the same—I guess I didn't expect him to be the son of a fucking CEO." "Explains the attitude," I jeered, dropping onto my seat. "He's probably a Daddy's boy." "Probably," she agreed. "Did he say anything to you?" "He called me a submissive," I spat, grinding my jaw. "Me? A submissive? The audacity he had, Kath! I swear, I wanted to slap that shitty grin off his face then and there!" "You should have," she sneered. "That would have been amusing to see."

"Yeah, well I had my job on the line," I groaned. "I'm literally walking on nails right now with Mike." "Then quit," Kath said through a mouthful of noodles. I frowned. "What? I can't just quit, Kath. This is a new job." "So?" She quirked her eyebrow. "You still have Noir's application. Just apply there. He doesn't know about your job with Keating, right?" "Well...no..." "So?" She shook my arm. "Unless you wanna stay with perverted Michael for the rest of your life, it's up to you, Adri." "I'll think about it," I decided, hoping it would keep her quiet about Lazareth. I still didn't understand his behavior the night before over the phone. He wasn't usually like that with me. Were all CEOs that snappy with their employees? "It's a lazy night tonight," Kath commented after a while. "We both don't have any work tomorrow. Wanna hit the club?" I rolled my eyes. "The club? Now?" "Yeah!" She grinned. "Loosen up? Have fun? We haven't been to a club ever since we started college, Adrienne." "I don't know..." I played with my slimy noodles. "What about Gryffin?" "What about me?" Gryffin poked his head from around the hallway, drops of water dripping from his wet hair. Half of his face was shaved, the other half still patchy with his stubble. A white towel was wrapped around his waist, his chest exposed. "Geez, get a shirt first before you talk!" I shouted over his laughter. Kath stayed quiet, focused on her bowl. "Relax, sis. We've both seen each other naked before," Gryffin commented dryly. "Really?" Kath's eyes darted between Gryffin and me, her mouth ajar. He stared

at her, gaping. "Uh...not sexually," he flushed, fumbling with his words. "When we were little, I meant." He continued to stare at her. "Um...you look good, Kathryn. You guys going out?" Kath blushed, and again, I rolled my eyes at the tense atmosphere between them. "Kath wants to go to a club with me. Will you be okay at home?" I asked, tossing him a bag of salt and vinegar chips. "I should be fine," he said, taking a couple of seconds to meet my eyes as if he didn't want to stop looking at Kath. "Have fun, okay, sis?" "Sure." I stood from my chair, aware of how Kath ogled my brother on his way back to the room he and Vincent shared. I smirked. Beat that, Matthew. "Kath?" I tapped her shoulder. "You ready?" "Huh?" She blinked, swallowing before forcing a smile towards me. "Of course, I'm ready! Let's go!"

~********~

Dressed in a short, lacy black dress and dark black flats with my hair plaited in a thick braid, Kath and I danced our way around the flashy club, managing to secure a couple of seats by the bar. Kath immediately ordered a shot (well, it was really more than one) and I just munched on some little snacks here and there. I wasn't ready to get a hangover just yet. The smell of damp whiskey and sex drowned in the air. Different colored lights flashed from the ceiling and music pumped around the room and especially by the DJ booth. Couples and groups of friends danced with each other on the dance floor, shouting over the music to communicate.

"Good music, right?" Kath asked, referring to the sultry electronic music playing in the background. "Yeah. I just wish it was livelier," I yelled. "I believe that can be arranged if you'd like," a cool, spine-tingling voice breathed hotly in my ear like I was swimming in the pools of hell and heaven at the same time. I spun in my seat, hardly able to see Lazareth's charcoal, hellish eyes in the darkness of the club. His hands were pressing gently on my waist like he was pulling me closer to his body. "Wasn't expecting to see you here, Mr. Noir," I giggled, although having not drunk anything. Lazareth smirked his toothpaste smirk, helping me stand from the stool. "It is my club, Miss. Walker. I believe I can do and go wherever I like, don't you?" "It's your club?" I asked, appalled. When he nodded, I shook my head, grabbing the drink Kath was going to take and drinking it. "Damn, just how many things do you own?" " A lot," he replied smoothly. He wasn't wearing his suit, at least, not like when I usually see him. Instead, he wore a tight, button-up shirt and a pair of clingy jeans, just like a regular person would. As if on cue, a much sultrier music burst from the speakers, and Lazareth's warm hand enveloped mine, pulling me towards the dancefloor. "A dance, Miss. Walker?" He questioned, his hands tightening on my hips. "Of course, Mr. Noir," I giggled, pressing closer to him to sway to the music. At that moment, I forgot the fighting my brain and my heart had constantly been doing. I forgot about Kath and Gryffin's warnings. I forgot about the devilish scowl on Lazareth's lips as he practically yelled at the woman yesterday. All I could think about was Lazareth and the way his eyes melted with mine. Heat curled around my body and into my toes at our proximity, and I would have stayed like that forever, dancing with Lazareth—

—if a camera shutter didn't go off in my face.

Chapter 9

"How was your night last night?" Gryffin asked the next morning, pouring me a cup of tea. "It went well," I shrugged, stirring the sugar. "How about you? What did you do?" "Eh," he shrugged. "Watched some Netflix. Talked to Vin. The usual." "What did he say?" I got a butter knife from the cup we kept our metal utensils in. "Is he doing okay?" "Well, Mom apparently cut his YouTube time," Gryffin snickered. "So, he's pretty upset about that. I don't blame her, though." "Neither do I," I agreed. "He needs to focus more on his homework instead of his YouTube videos. He's in middle school. It's only going to get harder after." "If only Vin could understand that," Gryffin sighed. "But you know how he is. Being the youngest made him spoiled." "Like Mom didn't spoil you," I scoffed, handing him a jar of jam. "Can you put the jam on the croissant? I'll do the butter?" "Sure." He easily pulled the lid from the usually tight jar. "What did you and Kathryn do at the club yesterday?" I raised my eyebrow. "What everyone does at a club?" "Like?" "Drink? Dance?" I got two plastic plates from the cupboard, having to stand on my toes to reach them. "Why? Does that bother you?" "If it did, I would have told you to stay home yesterday," Gryffin sneered. "No, it doesn't bother me. You're an adult, Adrienne. I can't dictate what you can or can't

do." "Technically, you can," I pointed out. "You're still my older brother." "By only two years," Gryffin jeered, bumping my hip with his. "What club did you go to? Was it the one on the eleventh ave?" "No..." I thought for a moment. "I think it was on the seventh street. You know— by Betty's Grocery Store?" "You mean Callisto's Club?" Gryffin asked. "Yeah, I think that was it." I helped him carry our breakfast to the kitchen table. "Why?" "I think it's owned by Lazareth Noir," he mused, wiping his hands on the damp towel hanging beside the oven. "Every branch he owns is named after some Greek legend. Callisto was one of the muses." "That makes sense," I chuckled. "There is music at a club, anyway." Gryffin took a bite out of his croissant, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "Was he there?" "Who?" "Noir." "Yes...it's his bar." I licked the dribbling, warm butter from my lips. "Why? Did you want me to get his autograph or something?" Gryffin scoffed, scratching down his bare, muscled chest. "No. Why does everything I ask you have to sound suspicious to you? I was only curious." "Your curiosity frightens me," I teased, changing my voice in an attempt to sound poetic. Making retching sounds in the back of his throat, Gryffin pushed my head gently as he walked past me. It was the weekend, which meant that the newspaper had been delivered. But it wasn't the news that Gryffin looked forward to—it was the

crossword puzzles. I spun around on my stool, reminiscing about last night. Now that I think about it, maybe that one drink I had taken from Kath had made me so bubbly with Lazareth. God, I hope I didn't embarrass myself in front of him. All I from the night before was dancing...the music loud...his hands on me...holding me...like a hero...or maybe a dark knight? "Holy shit!" I heard Gryffin exclaim from the door. Smirking, I stirred my tea, waiting for him to come into the kitchen so that I could tease him. "What is it?" I asked, giggling as he walked into the room. He was as stiff as a board, his eyes blank and seemingly glued to the paper. His hands were clenched into fists—clenching and unclenching. "What? Cat got your tongue?" I continued, unaware that he wasn't laughing with me. Silently, almost motionlessly, he dropped the paper in front of me. "Read it," he ordered bluntly, sounding just like Lazareth did days ago in the coffee shop. He crossed his bulky arms over his chest. He was really serious, wasn't he? "Okay...?" Carefully, I picked the bunch of papers up, reading through the page that Gryffin had opened up for me. Quicker than a hockey puck slides into the goal, I felt my heart freeze into ice, then thaw and thrum exceedingly fast in my chest. I shook my head, re-reading the paragraphs just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating anything, but unfortunately, in bold, block letters, my nightmare had just been printed into reality. LAZARETH NOIR SPOTTED GETTING CLOSE WITH CLUB GIRL. POTENTIAL GIRLFRIEND? "You said you were drinking and dancing," Gryffin spat, glowering at me, his eyes ablaze. My chest felt heavy and my breathing was shaky. "I-I was...well...I danced with Lazareth..."

"Adrienne!" Gryffin snatched the paper from my glaring angrily. "God, for a girl with a GPA of 3.5, why can't you be as smart as you are in the classroom?" "What's your problem?" I snapped, rising from my chair. "So, I danced with him. Big deal?" "Big deal?!" Gryffin repeated. "What's the big deal?" He laughed cynically, throwing his head back and tossing the paper behind him. "The deal is, Adrienne, that you are now in the eye of the media. They won't let you sneeze without snapping a photo and pasting that onto the front page." "I'll talk to Lazareth about it, okay?" I scowled, practically tossing my plate into the sink. I wiped my hands on the dishtowel. "I'm sure he'll be able to do something." "Oh, for fuck's sake!" Gryffin groaned. "Yes, ask Lazareth. How about you go fuck him for some money too." "What?!" Anger burst in my chest, streaming around my body like a volcano. "What the hell do you mean? I'm not some slut, Gryffin, and you know that!" "Not yet, you aren't," Gryffin growled. "I don't trust him, Adri. He doesn't give a very cuddly vibe if that's what you hoped I was going to say about him. He's dangerous. He's a billionaire. They'll do anything to get what they want, and they can get anything they want. What if he's just using you?" "He wouldn't do that," I sniffed, crossing my arms. "Lazareth is different. He's not like the other billionaires." Gryffin shook his head like I was a lost clause, running a weary hand through his hair. "That's what they all say, Adrienne. That's what they all say."

~*****~

"Will you be able to fix this?" I pleaded over the phone, gripping the device so tightly I thought it would be glued to my hand.

"Can you tell me what happened, exactly?" Lazareth asked, hissing at someone who had previously been speaking to stay quiet. I frowned. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" "You? Of course, not. What you have to say is more important to me than what they want," Lazareth purred, but it didn't go past me the poison that was on his tongue when he spoke of what I assumed to be his employee. "Oh...okay, then, I guess." I sighed. " yesterday, when we danced in the club together?" "Yes." "And do you the flash that went off in my face? The one that you told me was just the light of somebody else's phone?" "Yes—I'm busy right now! Whatever you have to tell me, you can wait," Lazareth snapped, breaking off from whatever he was saying to me. He cleared his throat. "What about the flash, Adrienne?" I gulped, unaware if I was worried that he was angry at me, or at his employees. "Well, as it turned out—!" I paused to write my name on the clipboard. "It was the flash of a news reporter. We were featured on the front page today." "We were what?!" Lazareth sounded livid abruptly. I had to pull my phone away from my ear at his outburst, attracting many unwanted, unfocused eyes. I flushed, ducking my head as I walked to my seat. "We were featured..." I repeated hesitantly. "Lazareth Noir dancing with a new girl. Possible girlfriend?" I heard Lazareth repeat with an audible groan. Something smacked against the wall from the other end of the call, and either it was the newspaper or his computer. I couldn't tell. "When did this happen!" Lazareth practically roared. The speaker of his side of the phone was muffled, so I could only assume that he was speaking to his employees. "W-We don't know...sir..." a timid sounding woman replied, albeit waiting a few

moments before doing so. Lazareth was silent for a few moments, but when he spoke, the venom on his tongue was so thick it made me squirm in my seat. "If you value your jobs, then you'd better get your asses into gear and fix it," he growled. "I don't care what it takes—just make sure that the article is taken down. Do you understand me?" I couldn't hear his team's reply, but soon, Lazareth's warm, reassuring voice was back, speaking to me in a completely opposite way as compared to how he spoke to his workers. "I'll get this fixed, Adrienne. Don't worry about anything," he assured, sounding like the calm, collected billionaire I knew he was...or, I thought I knew he was. "O-Okay," I responded, unable to hide the short tremor in my voice. A woman appeared from the doorway at that exact moment, calling my name into the room full of people. "I have to go, Lazareth. I'll talk to you later, I guess?" "Yes, I'll call you later," he affirmed. "Don't worry about this, okay? I'll get this resolved." "Thank you." I cut the call. My hand wouldn't stop shaking as I put my phone away and got up to follow the nurse. Inside, my bag glowed with the light coming from the devil logo. Once again, I had witnessed the Lazareth Noir both Kath and Gryffin warned me about. The cold, shrewd, even cruel sounding billionaire who got what he wanted, exactly how he wanted it, and when he wanted it. "Good morning, Adrienne," my therapist, Julia, welcomed, shaking my hand before gesturing to the seat across from her. "Hi," I murmured quietly, sitting down like I was ordered to. Julia plopped into her rolling office chair, pulling up my files on her computer. "How are we doing today, sweetie?" She asked, smiling somewhat

sympathetically at me. "I saw your picture in the paper today. How are you feeling about that?" Right to the point, I thought with a cruel snicker. "I'm...doing okay. A bit panicked, but okay, I guess." "Four square breathing, ," Julia instructed. "Did you do the exercise I told you to do when you get anxious?" "I-It happened so quickly...I didn't get much time to do anything..." I mumbled, still reeling from Lazareth's call. Julia reached over the table and squeezed my hand. "Lazareth Noir is known for having his face in the paper constantly, Adrienne," she said warmly. "You aren't. It's perfectly okay to be shaken up about it." If only she knew... I thought. "Yeah, I guess he is. I...I wasn't really thinking straight last night..." "Do you know him? He didn't force himself onto you, did he?" Julia asked, frowning. "That doesn't seem like Mr. Noir." "How do you know?" "I don't. But from what I've seen, and heard, he sounds to be a very polite, if not, firm young man." Yeah, totally firm. Definitely not harsh...well, maybe his body is firm...stop it, Adrienne! I blinked, clearing my throat. "Um...yeah. No, he didn't force himself onto me. I agreed to dance with him...I met him before." "So, you're acquaintances?" Julia hummed, typing on her computer. "Where did you meet him before?" "I interviewed him for my school," I mumbled. "Were you anxious around him at that time?"

"No. I—I was never anxious about him," I lied, not really feeling like talking indepth about my feelings for Lazareth, despite that being her job. "Sure, he seemed kind of...eccentric? But he was polite, if not, kind to me." He's always kind to me. Just with me.

"Well, that's good," Julia nodded. "Let's see—oh! The article and the pictures are gone from the website!" "Really?" She turned her computer monitor so I could see the page she was on. Sure enough, everything that had been in the physical paper this morning was gone, replaced by an article about the latest cooking show. Lazareth... I thought, smiling a small, hidden smile. How he had managed to take it down so quickly, I had no idea, but the anxiety that had once suffocated my heart dissipated immediately. A cool feeling flooded my veins. God, Lazareth, why do you keep confusing me? Why are my feelings for you so difficult to understand? What are my feelings for you?

Chapter 10

"I saw the news." "I'm sure you did." Jackie leveled me with a sympathetic look. "Don't take it too hard on yourself, Adrienne. Things like that happen a lot of the time. You'd be surprised how often we're featured in the newspaper." "I've never seen you before," I grumbled, pushing my keyboard back against the monitor of my computer. She patted my shoulder. "That's because I've tried to stay out of the limelight," she shrugged. "The media doesn't usually find assistants who aren't in an affair with their boss interesting. Handling Lafayette is already too much of a hassle, anyway." I smirked. "What? Do you find Mike attractive?" She stuck her tongue out. "Oh, ew, you wish!" Quickly, she glanced at Mike's office. His door was closed, the lockset in place. Leaning closer to me, she beckoned me up to whisper into my ear. "Mike's one that you can always find in the media," she murmured. "I like to think that he enjoys the attention he gets because his father is distanced from him." "He is?" "I'm not sure. It's really just a rumor that I've heard, but there's always something off with rich guys," Jackie commented airily. "Every CEO or billionaire that you hear about has some pity life behind them. Either they lost a loved one, were poor, or immigrated from another country. It's, all the same, these days." "Right..." I drawled, tapping my chin. I thought back to my interview with Lazareth. He had mentioned that he was an immigrant. From where I don't

. Probably the Middle East? The story he gave me certainly brought out some pity for him. "Anyway, don't worry about it," Jackie concluded, squeezing my shoulder. "It happens. Just try to not get into any controversial problems." "Everything is controversial in this world," I grumbled, picking my mouse up and clicking the right key a couple of times. "Sometimes I wonder to myself why I wanted to get mixed in this cake." "Who knows," Jackie shrugged. "A little bit of sugar can make any treat delicious." My lip quirked. "I'm assuming that I'm the sugar?" "And the business realm is the cake," Jackie giggled. "You can't go back now. You're already well folded in, Adrienne." "And it seems like I'm only expanding," I added, smirking. We both shared a soft chuckle. Mike's eyes were on us now, but he still wasn't making any moves to berate us, which was a relief. Jackie swung her feet, clapping them against the metal drawers next to my leg before jumping off my desk, grinning at me. Behind her, Lafayette was gazing at the back of her head, unaware that he was overfilling his water bottle. "I should be getting back to work," she said, although her eyes betrayed her. "Don't want to bring on Mike's rage, especially with the sour mood he seems to be in today." "Does he?" I peered over Lafayette's hunched frame. Mike's eyes were lidded and red, his hair tousled and unruly. He looked like he had gotten drunk the night before and was still hungover. "He's never one to slouch," Jackie whispered. "Especially on his father's supposedly expensive desk chair." She patted my shoulder. "Be wary of him, 'kay? We don't need salty water ruining our sugar, do we?" I shook my head, amused. "I'm not sure that's the best comparison, but okay,

whatever you say." Jackie left to greet the men waiting at the reception desk, and as soon as her back was turned to face me, Lafayette's heavy footsteps caught my attention, growing louder and louder. "Hey," he grinned his crooked grin at me. "Alice, right?" "Adrienne," I corrected, stiffly smiling at him. He was tall, probably not as tall as Lazareth, but tall enough. He had dark chocolate hair that made a curl at the tips like Hershey Kisses. His eyes were bright and cheery, contrasting to the demonic darkness that blanketed his orbs in the elevator a couple of weeks ago. "Ah, right, sorry." He scratched the back of his neck, drawing the corner of his lip between his crooked tooth and his bottom row. "Um...Adrienne, I think I owe you an apology." "You think?" I crossed my arms over my chest, smirking at him with a raised eyebrow. "You aren't sure?" He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'm sure I owe you an apology. What happened in the elevator—that doesn't usually happen. Jackie was just a bit prickly with me that day because I pranked her the day before." "I'm sure anyone who was pranked wouldn't be too thrilled," I chuckled. "But apology accepted." Lafayette grinned at me. "Really? Awesome! You seem like a really cool gal, Adrienne...well, less than Jacqueline, of course." "Thanks," I smiled. "So...is Lafayette your real first name or is it your last name?" "My first name," Lafayette itted, blushing. "I know—it's a bit uncommon here, but my parents and family always tell me that it's popular in , so..." "I've heard the same thing," I said, bringing my keyboard back towards me. "But it's a nice name, nonetheless. It sounds kind of romantic." I glanced at Jackie. Her eyes darted immediately towards the next woman in line, but it was obvious that she had been observing Lafayette and me—probably for our entire

conversation. "Do you like her, Lafayette?" I asked. "Who?' "Jackie." "Jackie..." Lafayette repeated slowly, dark eyes assessing me and the blinking screen in front of me. I tugged my jacket around me and subtly twirled my hair, curling the ends so that they resembled Lafayette's hair. "Yeah, I do like her," he itted softly, so softly I almost didn't hear him. A breathy chuckle left his lips and he rubbed his stubbled chin, sighing. "I don't think she likes me, though. In fact, she seems kind of repulsed by me." "I'm sure that's not true," I murmured. Jackie was glaring at us now, her eyes like lightning bolts piercing through my back. Something behind me squeaked, and I had a pretty dreading feeling that it was Mike's chair. "I think it is." Lafayette slid from my table (Speaking of which: Why was everyone sitting at my table?) "Anyway, thanks for the chat, Adrienne. I'd...I'd better get back to work." His eyes were darting towards something—or rather, someone, behind me, and once Lafayette was out of earshot, Mike's slender fingers gripped my shoulders, shocking me. "I saw you on the front page," he murmured. I grit my teeth, jerking away from him. "Oh?" Standing from my chair, I grabbed my purse and shut off my monitor. "That's nice." "You and Pretty Boy seemed to be getting at it," Mike continued, trailing behind me as I strode past Jackie. Her eyes darted between Mike and me, and underneath the table, she clenched her fist, tilting her head towards Mike. I smiled, shaking my head. "So, we were," I yawned, pressing the elevator button.

Mike put his palm beside my head, leaning on his arm like a sleazy salesman. "Did he feel good?" "Excuse me?" "You know what I'm talking about, Adrienne," Mike slurred, sounding, but certainly not looking, drunk. His lidded eyes drank me. "There was hardly any room between you two at that bar. Perhaps something else has been going on...behind closed doors...?" It took me a few moments to comprehend what Michael was trying to insinuate, and once it clicked, I wasn't sure if the image was supposed to excite or repulse me. I settled for repulsed. Smacking Mike's leaning hand, I glared sharply (or at least, I hoped it looked sharp) at him. "If you have a problem with my private life, then maybe you should either discuss it privately with me or take it up with HR, but I will not have you attempting to slander my name in public." The elevators opened, and I marched inside the empty compartment, confidently raising my head high. I caught Mike's appalled eyes and Jackie's smug grin from the crack of the closing elevator doors, and internally, I felt my heart smirking too. It felt good to talk back, especially to Mike. I kept that side of me constricted because it clashed with the woman, I chose to show everyone around me, but really, the flush of pride that flooded my body knowing that I had won a verbal battle made me feel immortal. Like it made up for my failure to control my mind. As I made my way down Ruby Street to grab a cup of tea and maybe a croissant, my phone began to ring, loudly. Checking the screen, Lazareth's neon green blinked in sync with the song playing. "Um...hello?" I asked, some of that earlier confidence deflating. I always felt nervous, or maybe, intimidated around Lazareth. He was the richest man in the world and probably the most powerful! Who wouldn't be?

"Hello," he chuckled, my stomach twisting into tight knots. "How are you, Adrienne?" "I'm...good," I squeaked. I felt like I was in front of my class presenting a slideshow that I knew was going to have mistakes pointed out by the teacher. "H-How are you? Again, he chuckled, the sound reminiscent of what I thought an anthropomorphic lion would sound like. "I'm doing just fine, Adrienne," he purred. "Are you busy right now?" "No, I'm free now," I said, biting my tongue to keep from telling him that I was at my job. "Why? Do you need anything?" "If you count, then yes, I need you," he stated simply. "Me?!" Flashbacks to Kath and I giggling in high school about boys, closets, and body parts made my stomach grow cold, then immediately hot. "What do you mean? I don't really understand...?" "I need to talk to you," Lazareth rephrased, clearing his throat. "I-I'm sorry. That was inappropriate...I..." "It's okay," I assured, sighing. My lungs felt lighter. "You weren't trying to be disrespectful...not like someone I know..." "What did you say? I didn't catch the last bit?" "Nothing important," I murmured, paying for my snack. "What's up, anyway? You keep saying you need me, but for what?" "Oh, right." Again, he cleared his throat. "I just realized—I was in a meeting— and I realized that we know absolutely nothing about each other...apart from...well...a few work-related things." "That's true," I agreed, sitting on a stone bench surrounding a large patch of flowers and grass. "We don't know much about each other." "I'm surprised you haven't looked me up on Wikipedia yet," Lazareth teased,

amusement laced in his voice. I shrugged even though he couldn't see it. "I'd rather hear it from your mouth than from some middle school kid with nothing better to do apart from trolling the internet." This time, Lazareth laughed, a smooth, creamy laugh that reminded me of the way Gryffin let the fresh custard drizzle onto the top of his cakes. I licked my lips. "That's one way to put it," he managed, chuckling. "I forgot how prone to hacking Wikipedia is." "Technically, it's not hacking if you already have an ." "You sound like you speak from experience." "Ha! You wish!" I grinned, the warm screen of my phone burning against my ear from the number of times Lazareth laughed. "So, where do you want to meet? And when?" "Now, would be convenient," Lazareth said softly. "And as for where...look up." A few beats ed by before I complied with Lazareth's confusing question, bringing my gaze up from my lap to the stone bench opposite me. I gasped. Lazareth grinned back at me, clicking his phone off before striding towards me. He wore a loose-fitting white jacket and a blue shirt. His jeans were a sort of starched blue color and his shoes were dark brown, blending with the sidewalk. "I hope I'm not late," he smirked, waiting for me to move over on the bench before he sat down. My chest heaved excitedly, my breath hitching as his hip brushed against mine. "You're not late at all," I gasped. "But...how did you know I was here? You weren't...stalking me, were you?" Lazareth's brow furrowed. "No, of course, not. That wouldn't be very gentlemanly." He shook his head. "No, I was seated a couple of rows ahead of

you, closer to the children's playground when I caught you coming." "Don't you work?" I asked, handing him half of my croissant. "I thought billionaires had compacted schedules?" "As I said, I'm never too busy for you, Adrienne," Lazareth replied smoothly, accepting the French treat. "Also, I'm on my lunch break. They can't bother me unless it's an emergency...ah, you saw what happened the last time they did." "I ..." I murmured, ing how murderous the gleam in Lazareth's eyes sparkled and how his once easy grin morphed into an almost sadistic scowl. "So...um...what did you want to know about me?" "Anything you're willing to disclose, Miss. Walker," Lazareth said, winking. He reclined on the wooden backrest, draping his arms languidly behind his head. I snickered. "Okay...well, I'm a University graduate with a degree in English. I have two brothers and I'm a hopeless romantic." "No parents?" "I have my mother and my step-father," I added. When Lazareth quirked an eyebrow, I sighed. "My biological father wasn't the best man...he wasn't very present in my life." "Ah, I apologize," Lazareth said softly. "I didn't mean to pry." Shrugging, I sipped my tea, tilting my head back to let the breeze sift its fingers through my hair. "Don't worry about it. I'm not upset. I don't mind talking about my family." I regarded him surreptitiously. "What about you?" "What about me?" "What about your family?" Lazareth's eyes snapped open. Slowly, he rose from his lax position, his steady jaw clenched. "My family..." he repeated deliberately. "My family is of no importance. They don't play a part in my life...well, except my brother."

"You have a brother?" "Yes. One. And a sister." He bristled, shaking his shoulders. "But that is of no matter. All you have to know is that I'm a billionaire, I too, am a hopeless romantic, and I have a very small family." "Okay..." Well, so much for getting to know one another. It didn't surprise me that Lazareth was irritated about me inquiring about his private life. Reading romance books and teen dramas taught me a thing or two already about the eccentrics of billionaires. For the rest of the day (or rather, the rest of Lazareth's late lunch break), we constantly played a back-and-forth game with what we wanted to tell each other. He was so vague with me, though, that I wasn't even sure if we should even be asking these questions to each other—that we should be playing this losing game.

Chapter 11

I scowled at myself as I tried the fancy ballgown in the dressing room. After trying on dress after dress, the one I finally found attractive and perfect for me...didn't fit. It just barely cinched by my hips and the zipper looked ready to pop from the view the back mirror was giving me. The dress itself was gorgeous, though. It was a light turquoise color with silver sequins embedded by my neckline and waistline. The skirt part of the gown reminded me of how flowers danced in the gentle wind. It was not too fluffy, but not slinky either. Like Princess Ariel's ball gown when she met Prince Eric. "The only difference is that I wouldn't trade my voice for love," I thought arrogantly, shimmying out of the expensive dress and hanging it back on the rack by the dressing rooms. The woman who was supposed to be watching the other customers hardly glanced at me. Her mouth squeaked and squealed with the gum she kept chewing past the minty phase. Sort of like the way a tire sounds as it pops. In my pocket, my phone buzzed with texts from Kath. She was sending me pictures of different dresses to go shop for. We were almost the same size—Kath was a bit smaller than I was—and since she was stuck at her apartment with the cold, I offered to buy some things for her. "God, Kath, what do you want?" I groaned, pulling the sleek white model out of my purse and scrolling through the crystal white texts. Lazareth wasn't kidding when he said this was a new model. There was nothing in any electronic store that I visited that had anything similar to the phone I was holding in my hand On my palm, the neon green symbol of Lazareth's company sizzled into my skin. It didn't really make sense to me why a man who owned a Mythology-themed company would have a Devil logo, but I wasn't about to question it. Lazareth was an odd man as it was—I didn't want to be introduced to his coven next. The billionaire world was enough. "How many dresses can this girl buy?" Scrolling through the pictures Kath sent

me, all of the dresses she had either purchased online or wanted me to purchase were solely the expensive gowns from designers and fashion moguls. Where the hell would she or I get enough money to buy a simple keychain from them? Texting her my inquiry, Kath's response came quicker than Olympus Deal's 1hour free shipping. KATH: You have a filthy rich boyfriend, don't you? Ask him for some money! ME: We aren't dating, Kathryn. He's just my friend...I guess. KATH: A so-called "friend" who would give you anything, wouldn't he? ME: We don't know each other that well for that. KATH: But he shuns work just for you? That's got to mean something, Adrienne. That made me pause, my thumb hovering over one of the letters. In a way, she was right. Lazareth did say he would have all the time in the world for me. But that was only an exaggeration, right? I mean—he's a goddamn billionaire for fuck's sake! How would he have enough time for me and for his company? It's not like he's some God! I typed my inner monologue back to Kath, my thumbs flying over the keyboard quicker than Hermes's magical shoes. She didn't reply for a while, but when she finally did, she conceded to my request with no extra long text providing evidence for her response. Smirking, I drifted around the street mall to the grocery store, wandering from stall to stall for the staples she and I both needed. In a way, Kath sending me benefited not only her but myself as well, since now, I didn't have to worry about going food shopping during the week. Mike would be pretty pissed if I missed work—he made that very clear when Jackie took a day off for her sister's birthday. As I was paying for my final load of shopping, my phone vibrated in my pocket, creating ripples in my jeans. Ducking my head at the irritated glower of the cashier, I picked the caller up without looking at the ID, grimacing. "Kath, I told you—this is my last stop in the market. I'm tired and I want to go home and eat and binge-watch Teen Devil."

"That's a very nice show," Lazareth's calm, smooth voice flooded my ear, the smirk I was sure he was wearing practically visible from his voice. "Although, I did not agree with them killing Jack's brother. I assure you, that wouldn't happen in the real devil world." "L-Lazareth..." I stammered, juggling my groceries while the cashier frowned at me, confused. "W-what are you...I'm sorry, I thought you were Kathryn." "I'm sorry to disappoint," Lazareth chuckled. "But I am a male, and much older than your friend. Am I disturbing you and your Teen Devil, Adrienne?" "Not at all," I snickered. "What's up?" "The sky." "Seriously?" "Oh, absolutely." "Wow. The polite billionaire cracks jokes," I scoffed. "What do you want, Lazareth?" "I—Myra! For fuck's sake, how illiterate can you be?" Lazareth broke off into his other side, shouting at one of his workers from the other end of the receiver. I winced. He spoke as though there was venom sitting in a layer on his tongue and forming poisonous weapons with every word he spat. "B-But...sir...?" "I told you to get it done right the first time!" Lazareth continued angrily. Something covered the speaker, probably his hand, and whatever else he said to poor Myra, I couldn't hear. I could only pray that Lazareth's good side would come back quickly. "Apologies," he murmured after a few moments of silence, the word practically caressing my cheek. "What were you asking me?" "What...you wanted?" I repeated hesitantly, still reeling from his outburst. Yet again, the devil side of Lazareth warned me to stay away from him, but my brain pushed ahead. It kept making me forget about his fury and how I'm sure his

employees feared him. "Oh, right!" He cleared his throat. "I was wondering if you could head to the parking lot of the street mall you're in and stand by the palm tree?" "Yeah...sure...wait, how did you know I was at the street mall?!" But Lazareth didn't reply. With a click, the call cut, leaving me confused and anxious with a large number of parcels in the middle of the parking lot—where the palm tree was conveniently located. "Miss. Walker?" A burly, young man with dark skin and curly black hair approached me, taking the bags from my hands gracefully. He had calm, blank eyes and wore a pressed black suit with a neon green devil's logo on his breast pocket. "Yes?" I frowned at him, blowing a strand of hair out of my eye. "Um...who are you?" The handsome man smiled. "My name is Clyde. I'm Mr. Noir's personal bodyguard." "Oh." My guards dropped and I smiled at Clyde. "It's nice to meet you, Clyde. I'm Adrienne." I looked from the bags he took from me to the perimeter of the parking lot. "Is Lazareth here?" "No, Miss. Walker," Clyde replied softly. He jerked his head towards a dark black Sedan parked close to the cart drop-off. "He sent me here to pick you up." "Pick me up?" My heart thrummed in my chest, ringing in my ears loudly. I didn't know why, but suddenly, my palms began to feel sweaty. Something about the situation felt too...cloudy...foggy. It didn't feel right. As Clyde helped me into the Sedan and slipped into the driver's seat, I felt bile and vomit begin to rise in my throat. The blackness of the car consumed me. There was no light to grasp on to. Heat strangled my throat and my lungs wheezed like they were too tired from trying to keep giving me air. I gripped the leather seats underneath me to try and gain some control—something I could hold and squeeze, but my fingers slipped like butter on a pan. Helpless.

Oh, God, why am I like this? I cursed myself, my throat vibrating with poorly hidden whimpers. Why can't I be strong like Kath? Why am I so afraid? Nothing's happening! Maybe he just wants to talk...yeah...talk... I kept falsely consoling myself throughout the entire car ride, my mind swarming like an angry beehive. My vision phased between clear and foggy and my hands were clenched together so tightly I could feel the warm blood trickling down my palms. Blood... Ripping at my tender bottom lip, I dropped my head against the headrest behind me, sucking at the iron flavor that melted on my tongue and spread around my mouth. A sigh and a gasp left my mouth at the same time just as the car rolled to a stop in front of Olympian Deals Corporate Building, a large, black building that looked taller than the Burj Khalifa. Clyde silently led me through the lavish grey lobby and into the elevator, hardly giving me a moment to get a good look at Lazareth's building—or, one of many buildings. It's not every day that you get to be inside a famous billionaire's office building, after all. The floor Clyde brought me to opened up to a pair of shiny black doors. Inside, wide windows replaced the grey walls of the lobby and apart from a grey carpet and a couple of bookshelves, the only things in the room were Lazareth's large desk and chair, laptop, and stacks and folders of papers. "Mr. Noir," Clyde coughed. From where he stood brooding by the window, Lazareth turned dramatically, his tight lips pulling into a tentative smile. He strode towards me with large steps, taking my wet hands in his. I blushed, hoping he wouldn't mention the dark red color of my lips or the dampness of my fingers. The door shut behind me. Clyde had left, leaving me and Lazareth together. Alone. A shiver ran up my spine as Lazareth's firm hands slid up my arm to grip my elbow. I brought my eyes up to meet his, immediately being held captive by his dark, sharp orbs.

"I'm relieved you arrived unharmed," he murmured breathily by my ear, his lips dangerously close to the shell of my ear. I felt my earring tap against the side of my head, and I swallowed the butterflies in my body before replying. "I don't know what you mean," I whispered. The atmosphere around us felt tight and suffocating like a larger body was holding us together for fear something would rip us apart. "You will soon," Lazareth said. His face inched closer to me, his head angled in such a way that our lips if they touched, would meet diagonally. I felt his warm breath on my mouth—chocolate and something like burning logs. His hands dragged down my hips towards my jean pockets, and although a part of me wanted to stop this, another part begged me to drag him down and pull him into a desperate kiss. "Here." Lazareth's slender fingers pulled my phone out of my pocket. He took a few steps away from me, his eyes significantly darker and puffing. I licked my lips, failing to control to wail of my heart. My chest trembled and with twitching fingers, I slowly reached to the place that Lazareth had taken my phone from...just inches from my ass. "It's just my phone," I murmured, trying not to show him how disappointed I was. Lazareth took a shaky breath, clicking the device on. I didn't bother to stop him. My mind felt like a hurricane and tornado blended together now. Granted, kissing Lazareth wouldn't be the first man that I would kiss, but he would certainly be the first man I willingly kissed. "Lazareth...? I don't understand...What do you want with me—my phone?" I asked, taking a sturdy step towards him. His brows curved towards his eyes and a frown graced his plush, soft-looking lips. God, I almost got to know how those felt, I thought. "This is why," Lazareth growled, his dark eyes hard as he turned the screen to show me his blinking devil logo, only this time, it was dark black, just like his

eyes. "What is it?" "It's part of some outer company," Lazareth snarled. He reached behind his shoulder, handing me the same white box he had wrapped and given me on my graduation. "That's not...I'm not..." I shook my hands and my head, but Lazareth pressed the box closer to me, his jaw clenched. "You are taking it," he stated. "I'm not taking no for an answer, Adrienne. You know I don't take no's very well." "But why are you giving me another phone?" I asked, inspecting the box that I begrudgingly took. "I already have a working one? Do you just want another favor?" A ghostly smile graced Lazareth's dark lips and he chuckled a low, silky chuckle. "No, Adrienne. I do not want another favor from you. I'm giving you a new phone because..." he faltered. "Because?" "Because that outer company...they're tracking you through this phone."

Chapter 12

What has my life become? The eager sun pulled at the bottom of my eyes, forcing me awake as I broke the capsule in half. Yellow powder fell onto the silver spoon I placed on the table. Taking another spoon, I mixed the medicine with some of my milk and quickly sucked the spoon, tossing it into the basin. "Gross," I gagged, sticking my tongue out for a moment to grab the steaming mug of tea beside me. Gulping, I finished the beverage in just a few seconds, the bitter taste washed away. Beside me, the new phone Lazareth gave me blinked with constant messages from Kath. She hadn't stopped bothering me since I called her the day before, telling her in hushed whispers my encounter with Lazareth and Clyde (leaving out the stalking part, obviously). "Eh, I'll reply to her later," I shrugged. Opening the cabinets, I pulled out containers filled with tea packets and sugar to make a new cup of tea for myself and some breakfast for Gryffin. Vincent wasn't coming home until next week, which thankfully gave me more time for enjoying the peace and quiet of the house (unless Gryffin was playing his military games and losing). Somewhere in the back of my throat, I could still feel the sour taste of the anxiety pills Julia had prescribed for me. They changed every time I needed a new prescription, which was annoying, because some of them had absolutely no taste, while others had a darkly sour taste or bitter tanginess to them that were content with stowing away at the corners of my mouth and coming out when I least expected it to. Scowling to myself, I pulled the latch to the sugar container a bit too roughly, spilling some of the contents onto the counter. "If only I wasn't so fucked up," I hissed, reaching for the dustpan. "Maybe then I wouldn't have to take these pills every day. Maybe then I wouldn't be dizzy, or

nauseous, or mentally insane." I sighed, closing my eyes. "Maybe then I could be a normal person." Whatever normal meant. Even if I didn't have anxiety attacks daily, meeting Lazareth would have happened no matter what excuse I tried to make up to Professor Alvarez. My anxiety wouldn't be able to get me out of meeting the warm, but sometimes cold and shrewd billionaire with hellish eyes and a sexily sadistic smirk. "Lazareth and his odd personalities," I mused, stirring the cups. "I'll never understand that guy. Sometimes he's warm and polite—then other times he's the cold and calculating billionaire ordering his workers around like he's their master. Actually..." I paused, licking the medicine taste off of my lips. "Lazareth has only ever been nice to...me...well, also to Kath, but that was more out of politeness...does he gift other women expensive phones too?" What if he's only using you? A part of me asked. What if he only wants you to work for him so that he can have someone to fuck in his free time? What if he's only being nice to get you to concede—to submit to his whiff and whim? It was a frightening, but certainly not out-ruled thought, even though I didn't like the ideas my brain was conjuring to try and scare me. Lazareth wouldn't hurt me...he was different around me...kind...caring...romantic, even. I took a shaky breath. No...he wasn't just using me...he was different...he wasn't what the media painted him to be. No matter how hard I tried to push that thought away, my heart glued it to the walls of my mind like a Justin Bieber or BTS poster. My brain pushed past the negatives and fangirled over the handsome man pasted right in front of it. Forgot about the scandals—the red flags—just the handsome man who held me so close yesterday, our mouths so close to touching... Unless, of course, he's done that t other women just to get them under his thumb — "Shut up!" I screamed, smashing my fist on the counter. The plates beside my hand shook under the impact and the microwave rumbled. "Just...be quiet! Please, why can't you stop bothering me for once! This is all your fault! You're fault I'm feeling this—you're fault I practically live on medication...all your fault..."

My chest heaved and burned. Trembling, I sat in front of my laptop. burying my head in my hands. My nostrils were flaring on and off and my eyes were unsure whether to close and remain closed or close and open again. "I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay," I repeated softly, carefully pulling my head back. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see something blackish pooling underneath my finger. Glancing at the butterknife I was using to spread the jam, some dark liquid was spread over the claw—-the same color that was pooling out of my hand. Blood. "Well, it happens to everyone," I shrugged carelessly. Reaching for a napkin, I negligently smothered the blood on the napkin. My hand burned, but it didn't hurt me. In fact...it felt good...like something pleasurable shooting up my spine and tingling in my stomach. No... I tossed the napkin away, slumping in my seat. Sometimes, I think that my brain has a mind of its own, forcing me to do things that I know aren't right, but they feel good to me anyway. Like seeing my blood more... I thought bitterly, running my thumb up and down the scar, it was forming down my pasty skin. Lazareth didn't have skin like mine. His was blemish-free. He looked exactly like a Hollywood star would, just ten times hotter and ten times for likely to play the cold love interest who changes for love. "I wonder if he ever did try acting." I thought aloud. Reaching for my computer, I typed up Lazareth's name on Wikipedia, something I realize I should've done before I met him. Or, at least when we began to form more than just an acquaintance. "He's twenty-six?!" I gaped, scrolling down his bio page. "Damn. He looks thirty...I guess I thought he was thirty, but at least he's closer to my age." I kept reading more about him, although the personal life category was very short. Apart from his age, all that was written about Lazareth was that he was an immigrant (it didn't say from where) and that he was particularly mysterious and cold. Most of the page really just detailed his work and the school he went to. Some quotes from interviews were pasted on different sections, most of them

being the regular cliched quotes about inspiration and coming from a rough background. "He's pretty secretive, isn't he?" Gryffin asked from behind me, his morning breath fanning on my nose. I stuck my tongue out childishly. "Yeah, and you need to brush your teeth," I gagged. "I wasn't expecting you up this early." "I got bored listing to you hyperventilate," he droned, floating to the fridge. "Is breakfast ready yet?" "Yeah." I scoffed. "And what do you mean? I wasn't hyperventilating!" With his head hidden by the large fridge door, Gryffin gave me a thumbs up from around the handle, different plates and mugs clattering together. "Whatever you say, sis," he mumbled. "But I'm pretty sure I heard 'Lazareth' way more than once. I also heard 'shut up' so..." I clenched my jaw. "I was talking to myself, so what?" "You've gone mental?" "No!" I slammed my computer shut. "I'm not mental, Gryffin!" "Crazy?" "No!" "Insane?" "No! Gryff—!" "Ooh! Ooh! I know!" He shut the door with his slipper and carried an assortment of jams onto the countertop. "You're in love." "No—what?" I cocked my head to the side, aware of the undignified drop of my mouth. "What did you say?" "That you're crazy?"

"No! The other one—the last thing you said," I repeated through gritted teeth. "That you're in love?" Gryffin smirked at me over his shoulder. "Yeah, I said that." "Why do you say that?" I asked. "I—You don't know anything about our relationship." "No, but I do hear you talking about him in your sleep," he said pointedly, settling across from me with his sandwich. "It's always about Lazareth." He cleared his throat dramatically. "Oh, Lazareth...Oh..." "Okay!" I pushed the sandwich against his lips to shut him up, blushing straight to my toes. "I didn't ask for a demonstration." "But I gave you one," Gryffin swallowed. "Face it, Adrienne. Either you're lusting for him, or you're in love with him." "Both of those ideas are incorrect," I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest and my legs underneath the table. In my shoes, my toes curled with the memory of Lazareth and me burning in my mind. "I'm not lusting for him. He's way older than me—!" "He's four years older than you, Adri." "So what?" I laughed cynically. "That's still a lot! I'm definitely not lusting after him—an older, richer, hotter man. And I'm definitely not in love with him! I mean, we're worlds apart! He's a billionaire...I'm an assistant at a small company...he's dreamy...handsome...charismatic..." I sighed. "He's not for me." "Right..." Gryffin regarded me over the dripping edge of his sandwich. "You totally aren't in love with Noir. Completely true." "Yep." I nodded my head firmly. "I'm definitely, absolutely, completel—-!" "Hopeless," Gryffin interjected, leveling me with a deadpan glare. "Adrienne, sometimes I wonder how you got into and graduated from the elite GreyHorn university." "Now you're the one speaking rubbish," I scowled. "What do you mean? You're

speaking complete nonsense—saying that I'm in love with a man like Lazareth!" "Okay, first of all," Gryffin set his sandwich down. "You call him by his first name, something nobody else does—!" "So?" "Just listen," he snapped. "Secondly, he gives you expensive gifts—something I'm still wary about, considering how long you've known each other and the prospect that he could be trying to blackmail you to do something for him, but whatever." He rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "He also talks to you constantly—and I mean, like, every single time he's on break. Adrienne, you talk about him in your sleep, and everything you've ever said about him has been nothing but how handsome and sexy and smart and charismatic he is." "That doesn't mean I love him," I growled, my shackles rising. "You're just jumping to assumptions about a man you don't even know about! The media is wrong about him, Gryffin! I know the real Lazareth. Why don't you give him a chance?" "Because he's a billionaire," Gryffin replied smoothly. "Something's gonna happen and it's gonna leave you heartbroken, Adrienne." His eyes suddenly dropped to his plate. "And you're my sister. I love you. Of course, I only want someone who's good for you. I want someone I know can protect you and love you!" "And Lazareth isn't that person?" Gryffin's chest heaved. "From what I've seen, no, he isn't. Adrienne, all he's done is give you expensive gifts! Doesn't that ring a bell?" "Of course, it does," I whispered, the painful reminder of our biological dad springing in my mind. "But that doesn't mean I'm like you." "What do you mean?" "I let go of my past, no matter how much it hurts to...!" "But that's the thing!" Gryffin chuckled, but it sounded desperate. "Because of Dad, you're stuck with a mental impairment that's giving you panic attacks every

day! What if the same thing happens between you and Lazareth? What if he finds someone else? What if he only wants to take advantage of you..." "I don't know..." I itted. "I know you could be right, Gryffin, really, I do. But this feeling...this is the first time I've been feeling anything like this. It's like every time he looks at me, he heals a scar Dad left. It's like I'm clean again, still fresh with my firsts, and he looks ready to take them all away blissfully. It's like he's making my cold black heart red again." Gryffin was silent for a few moments, eyeing between me and his food. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head. "Sometimes, I worry for you, Adrienne" he murmured, sighing once again like a forlorn man. "Sometimes, I think about when you meet him and wonder what you two are doing. I wonder if he's forcing you into anything or if you're just a fish strung on a line unable to be cut. He's dangerous, Adri, but..." "But what?" I reached over, touching his arm. "But what, Gryff?" "I won't stop you from seeing him."

Chapter 13

"Where were you?" Jackie hissed at me as I strode into the office. She rounded her desk to stand in front of me, arms crossed and lips pursed. I frowned, adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder. "I was...at home?" Daydreaming. "Why? What happened?" "You're exactly two minutes late!" She croaked, jerking her arms towards the asylum-white clock that hung over her chair at a dangerously close angle. Scoffing, I walked to my desk, aware that Jackie was following me and that Lafayette was gazing at her by the water fountain. "What, are you my mother?" I teased, starting the computer up. "Always waiting to see if I'll miss my curfew?" Jackie crossed her arms over her chest. "Adrienne..." I threw my head back in a fit of short laughter. "Relax, Jackie. I'm teasing you." I sighed. "And besides, it's only two minutes. I'll be here sharp starting today, I promise." Staring at me for a few tense seconds, Jackie let out a deep exhale, relaxing against the rim of my desk. "I don't doubt you, Adrienne," she said. "But you know how picky Michael is about our timing, especially when we come to work. What if he found out you were late?" "Would he care? It was only two minutes." I sneered, brushing the short strands of hair that kissed my face to the side. "It's not like he keeps track of us...right?" Knocking her head to the side, Jackie's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish out of water. Her eyes darted back and forth between me, Lafayette's obvious frame, and Michael's closed office door.

"He...might," she finally itted. "I'm not sure how, but he always seems to know when someone is late. Sometimes by the second." "Really?" I rose my eyebrows, regarding the blinking blue screen momentarily before focusing on Jackie's shifty frame. "Damn, I never realized he was that stalkerish." "Oh, you won't believe it!" She chuckled, twirling a strand of her blonde locks between her pointy fingers. "Some people are worse than others." Looking over her shoulder, I saw her stare at the wavy water-fountain, her blue stare hard and focused long enough to see Lafayette crawl out from around the jug of water with a stack of crumpled papers tucked under his arm. He glanced at Jackie, then quickly rounded the beige corner to his side of the office. Weirdly enough, Mike kept the men and women on separate sides of the office. It reminded me of when I visited my friend's Hindu school and how they sat during prayers. Shaking her head, Jackie turned back to me, smiling. "Anyway, what did you do last night?" "Nothing much. Just... talk to someone," I replied slowly, avoiding her cloudy blue eyes. "Really?" That same inquisitive drawl that Kath gave me whenever I mentioned a boy she hadn't heard of was prominent in Jackie's voice, like a raspy smirk. "And would this someone happen to be a boy? Preferably a handsome young man?" I gave a huffing laugh, pushing my keyboard away from me as my computer blinked with the anticipation of the next emailed job. "Yes, the person was a he. And he was a very handsome man." "Young?" "I guess. He's around four to five years older than me." "So he's twenty-six? Seven?" When I nodded, Jackie whistled lowly, crossing her silky legs over one another. "Ooh. How hot is he? On a scale of one to ten?"

"Definitely twenty," I giggled. "He's really...different, though. He doesn't exactly fit into society's standards of a normal person, and he can be vague and somewhat distant and brooding, but he's really sweet when you get to know him." Jackie grinned, clapping my shoulder with one of her newly manicured hands. "I don't doubt it." Then, she paused. "You know, you're a really beautiful girl, Adrienne. Whoever this man is, make sure he treats you well." "If I knew that he wouldn't, then I would have rejected him when he first made a move," I smirked. "But thanks. You and Kath, my other friend, are really the only two ing me with this guy." "Really? What about your—!" "Adrienne." Mike's clipped voice resonated like an earthquake's rumble through the doorway of his office. All eyes swiveled to me. "In my office. Now." The door shut immediately and a pin-drop silence covered the room. Jackie and I shared glances, and with a churning stomach, sweaty hands, and a brain resembling the child of a tornado and a hurricane, I stepped quietly into Mike's office, unsure whether I should turn and sign my death contract with the devil or not. "Glad you could come," Mike began tartly, not even bothering to offer me a seat. I took the one in front of him anyway, avoiding his steely eyes just like I avoided Jackie's, but for a different reason this time. "Is there anything you need, sir?" I asked, clenching my jaw to keep my body from shivering. My hands shook and I clenched them together. I couldn't let him see how stressed—how anxious I was. He would only prey on those nerves, just like he always did. "Yes, as a matter of fact." Mike dragged his polished shoes around his desk, and once he was in front of me, he coiled his sticky fingers around my arm, hoisting me up roughly and pinning me to the wall behind him. "Mike—!" "Shh..." he covered my mouth with his hand, holding me firmly against the wall.

The blinds were closed, so nobody inside or outside could see us. His knee pressed between my legs, but it didn't feel good. It didn't feel like the blanket of warmth that Lazareth emanated when he held me the night before. It felt dangerous, rough, frightening. "You're a sweet little submissive thing, aren't you?" He cooed, dragging a thick thumb over my cheek. I struggled in his arms, shaking my shoulders, but he held me like he was born with iron muscles. "I heard about your...how should I put this...meeting, with Mr. Noir the other night." He took his hand off my mouth, and I gasped to breathe, glaring hotly at him from under my bangs. "How did you hear about that?" I snarled. "And why do you care?" "Why do I care?" Mike repeated. His gaze tore through me like a wild animal. "I care because that rich son of a bitch got what I always wanted with a snap of his fingers." "W-What do you mean? What did he get?" Mike laughed cynically, pressing me harder against the wall. "Oh, Adrienne, don't play coy with me. We all know that as plump as you are, you are still quite the damsel. A beautiful, submissive damsel and a son of a whore who would willingly sleep with a man as rich as Lazareth Noir, but not with one who's chased after your heart for so long!" His voice was as loud as a lion's roar, now, and I was surprised that nobody from the office outside came barging in to help. Maybe he had outbursts like this often, but I wasn't about to let anyone call me a "submissive whore" and get away with it. Promptly, when he was still tearing at my eyes, I jammed my knee up to his crotch, bringing a wolfish cry out of him. Flailing, Mike crashed into his desk and tumbled to the ground, holding his middle area, and quickly, I unlocked the door, fleeing to my desk. "Adrienne?!" Jackie rushed up to me, trying to grab my shoulders as I frantically grabbed my things. "Adrienne?! What happened? W-Where are you going?!"

But I didn't answer her. The adrenaline was pumping high in my body now like a pressure machine and forcing cold tears out of my eyes. I grabbed my things hastily, uncaring if any papers fell out of my bag. Running towards the stairs, I bolted down the steps double at a time, smashing through the door and running, running, running. In fact, I was running so fast, so blindly, that I wasn't even looking where I was going. In a spur of the moment, I closed my eyes to wipe my tears, and a hard, muscular chest collided with my body. Somehow, I was the only one that stumbled, while the other person just stood like a solid rock. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry—!" I looked up, gasping, and my eyes locked with the same, dark orbs that had been haunting my dreams ever since I caught sight of them nearly two months ago. "Adrienne?" Lazareth's cool, sturdy voice cradled me, his bulky arms coming around to hold me towards his chest like he wanted to keep me there. God, I wanted to stay there. But... Shaking, I tried to pull away from him, but the adrenaline was dying down. My body felt fatigued from all the running I had done. "Lazareth..." that was all I could manage. A weak, little whimper. Clyde was looking at me from in front of Lazareth, his eyes flooded with sympathy, and inside, my stomach coiled into thick knots. "Adrienne, who did this to you?" Lazareth's voice was cold as he led me to a bench, seating me close to his thigh. The warmth of his arms left my body and soon, I felt his hard fingers at my cheeks, wiping the tears off my face. "I...um..." I glanced back at the towering, yet dwarf-like building as compared to other larger companies. Suddenly, it was like the towers were dancing in front of me—like a ballet dancer. The clouds changed colors—red, then blue, then green. It was like I was looking through a kaleidoscope. Lazareth too looked different. He had baby purple skin and a greenish stubble. His ears were pointy and his top-half was bare, apart from a few glowing blue tattoos. "Adrienne!" And then, everything was dark.

~****~

When I awoke, the first thing I realized was that I wasn't in my bed. Jerking upright at the texture of the soft mattress beneath my body, I darted my eyes around the room, trying to make sense of where exactly I was, and what was happening. Although I didn't know where I was, the room I was in was eerily lovely. A mix of different shades of grey with pastels blended in around the curtains and dresser filigree, it looked like a bedroom from one of those Christmas cliche movies. A woman sat on the edge of the bed. She was an elderly-looking woman— maybe around fifty? She was holding a tray of croissants and biscuits, as well as a pot of tea. When she caught me looking at her, her grey eyes sparkled and her lips pulled wider than the barret tangled in her straight, greying hair. "Good morning, madame," she greeted, a hint of an Italian accent in her voice. I smiled at her, running my tongue along my dry lips. "Um...good morning..." "Oh, I am Laura, Mr. Noir's housekeeper," Laura introduced, nodding at the tray of food in front of me. "You need not be afraid, madame. Mr. Noir has instructed me to take care of you until he returns." "Lazareth has a housekeeper?!" I blurted. Great, that's the first thing I say after waking up from fainting. Wonderful, Adrienne. Not even a thank you. Laura laughed. "Yes. Trust me, he may act like a man, but in this house, he is but a boy who can't even do his own laundry." I giggled. "That sounds like Lazareth," I agreed, stirring the tea. "Would you like a biscuit? Or a croissant? There are so many here—I don't think I can eat all of them."

"Oh, no! You eat! I have already eaten," she sighed. "Also, I washed your clothes. Don't worry. I changed you out of your old ones if you do not mind..." "No, thank you, really," I smiled. "Uh, do you know when Lazareth will be coming?" "Is now, a good time?" Lazareth's creamy voice questioned from the crack of the doorway, beaming at the both of us. "Perfect!" Laura smirked. "But don't tire her out, you hear boy? She needs rest. Save your hanky panky for tomorrow!" For the first time that day, a long, but tired laugh left my lips like a string of spaghetti, especially at Lazareth's crimson cheeks and the stutters he made as he hastily escorted Laura out of the room. Her own laughter could be heard from the end of the hallway, or, what sounded like the end of a hallway. "I'm sorry about her," Lazareth groaned. "She's like a second mother to me, but she seems very intent on embarrassing me." I shrugged. "That's the job of a mom." Patting the sheets beside me, Lazareth slunk to my side, taking my hand. "So...what exactly happened? I'm still a bit drowsy." "Then you should rest soon," he murmured. "But to put the past few hours events in short words, you fainted, Clyde took you home, and I fired your molester of a boss." "You did what?!" I wasn't sure if I should be elated or shocked, or maybe both. "You...fired Mike? How did you know...?" Lazareth shrugged. "Video camera caught everything. I didn't need much evidence to fire him. Besides, I was buying the company, anyway. I basically owned everything." "You...oh man, I don't think I can take this all in." I pressed my temple, then my forehead. "You...bought my workplace? Why?" "Business profit," Lazareth said shortly. "Also, Keating practically begged me to buy it. I was not aware that you were working there." His voice hardened

slightly. "You hadn't told me." "Right...um...why didn't you take it up with the bosses higher than Mike?" I asked. "Don't you think firing is a bit too harsh?" "For what he did to you, no." Lazareth's voice was like stone-cold marble. "I will not forgive anyone who dares to touch you like that...like some drunkard man. Nobody should be allowed to touch you—or any other woman, without their permission." Damn, someone seems pissed. I thought. Maybe this strikes close to home? Shaking my head, I fell back on the wall of pillows behind me, Lazareth's cool hand still in with mine. "So...now what?" "What do you mean?" "What do I do now? Can I go home?" "No." "Wha—!" "Adrienne, you are in no shape to go home, not right now." Lazareth squeezed my hand. "I would not forgive myself if anything happened to you again, especially in the state that you're in." "But...I sleep at my home..." "So? Sleep here?" "What?" I shook my head. "No, no way. That's too much to ask, Lazareth. You've already done enough—!" "It doesn't matter," Lazareth snapped. "I'm not taking a chance. Not with you, not right now. You are staying here tonight. End of discussion." "You could have just said that, but nicer," I scowled. "But okay, I'll stay, Mr. Bossy."

A wicked grin curled on his lips. "You have no idea." He smirked. "But I do have to ask...?" "What is it?" "Why does Michael seem so intent on having you? Is he an ex-boyfriend?" "What?" I wrinkled my nose. "Mike? No way. He's just...we were friends all throughout childhood and he developed a crush on me that I didn't reciprocate." "Oh..." Lazareth's complexion whitened slightly. "So, what happened?" I sighed, closing my eyes against the fluffy pillows. "One day, he came up to me in front of the entire class and asked me to go on a date with him." "And? What did you do?" "I rejected him."

Chapter 14

Lazareth stared at me for a few ticking moments, unmoving. His impeccably hard eyes dug into my soul like an obsidian shovel. A part of myself cursed me to hell and back for revealing something that I had kept buried under dirt for so long. Not even Kath or Gryffin knew to the full extent why Mike was intent on ruining my life, and they were my best friends! "You rejected him?" Lazareth repeated softly, so softly I didn't even see his lips move. I nodded after a second, leaning away from him a couple of inches and clutching the warm blanket close to my chest. "Yeah, I did," I itted. I held my hands up. "But before you say anything, he was being too rough with me that day. Like, aggressively rough. Besides, I didn't see Mike that way. He was only ever a friend to me." I looked down at my hands, which formed a cup in the crevice of my crossed legs. "I never wanted to hurt him." Lazareth's long, icy fingers gripped my chin, tipping my head up to meet his dark eyes. They weren't burning with anger anymore. No. Now, they held a new, much gentler emotion. Almost like a sea of black water bouncing gently by the coast. "I'm not angry, not at you," he murmured. "I'm sorry if I came off as such. I was only thinking of what I did—what I should have done." "What do you mean? You fired Mike," I asked. "What more could you have done without getting into any legal trouble?" A sinister curl of his lips brought my eyes up to lock with Lazareth's, and for the first time, it was like there was a fire burning in his irises, just like what I saw before I fainted. It wasn't possible to have fire in one's eyes, but for a moment, I could have sworn he looked like some evil hot guy on a TV show. Like he was the bad guy with a depressing backstory, just handsome.

"I don't fear the law, Adrienne," Lazareth said. He peeled a croissant from the plate Laura kept by my feet, touching my lips with it. "I don't fear anyone. Fear is for cowards, and I most certainly am not a coward." "Are you a statue then?" I asked tartly, trying to avoid getting any flakes on my tongue. "Cause statues most certainly don't have feelings." Pressing the pastry against my mouth, Lazareth smirked, a cold, wicked smirk that had my stomach twisting itself into knots all over again. "No, I'm much better than a statue," he said, succeeding in getting the food into my mouth. His eyes followed the movement of my very pink tongue, drawing his bottom lip in between his teeth ever so slightly. "Then what are you?" I whispered between bites. Lazareth took his time answering, watching me chew and swallow before his pink lips made an "O" shape and his eyes lifted from ovals to spheres. The sun reflected on his irises, giving them a bright gold outline. "I am a man," he finally stated, taking another soft pastry from the plate. "I am a man who has worked hard to become where he is now. I am a man who has met many people, all who have done nothing to stir his cold, black heart." Nobody has been able to stir him...my heart repeated. Whereas it had once been dancing in joy, it now sunk to its knees, blackness shrouding over the rainbow of colors it had painted over my head. Not even us...not even us, Adrienne. We couldn't do anything for him. "But then." Lazareth cut into my heart's depressive monologue. "I met this girl. She was this beautiful, glowing girl with the most amazing smile. She was— well, she is confident, smart, and although she can be a bit shy and queasy, she is one of the best things that ever happened to me. I never thought I could feel anything for anybody, but then she came, and this...this...firework burst in my heart. It felt like...what do you American's call it, the Fourth of July?" "Yeah..." Lazareth's eyes hadn't left mine ever since he began speaking about this girl. I felt his hand glide over my leg, squeezing my hand and intertwining our fingers

together. It was like we were in some teenage rom-com, but I wasn't too sure if I was going to get my heart broken or mended. "Well, then, it was the Fourth of July, but better." Lazareth beamed. "She wasn't like any woman I had ever been with before. She was amazing...is amazing, and I don't want to let go of her." He squeezed my hand again, and in my heart, the party music grew louder and louder. My heart thrummed anxiously in my chest. Lazareth's face was getting closer to mine. The tips of his hair brushed my bangs and he tilted his head to angle our lips diagonally. Oh...is it really going to happen now? I thought, thinking back to our time in the office when he was so painfully close to kissing me. Him. Lazareth Noir. The richest man in the world. Kissing me! "Would you like to meet this woman?" He murmured, taking his free hand and running it up to my cheek, cupping the soft bone there. I wasn't even sure if I was breathing still, but I managed a short, breathy nod of my head, a small smile glued on my lips. "Yeah, I would like to meet her," I replied. My heart was dancing with the Devil in my body, sending fast messages to my irate brain, who had failed to get me out of this wonderful position, but I could have cared less. With one hand on my cheek and the other holding my hand, Lazareth, still in his rumpled shirt and unbuttoned work vest, and I in a pair of pajamas I had no idea belonged to, leaned closer to each other, anticipation curling tightly in my gut as slowly, carefully, our eyes fluttered close and our lips finally, finally connected. And Lazareth was right. Fireworks not only went off in my body— They exploded. As soon as his lips touched mine, I flew from hell and straight up into heaven. They moved in sync with mine, like our kiss was a practiced dance. Tasting like chocolate and smelling like incense, Lazareth's arms snaked around my waist, pulling me closer to him, tightening our kiss. A shiver frisked my body and in our ion, I wrapped my arms around Lazareth's neck, wanting him even

closer than we already were. We're doing it! We're doing it! My brain and my heart screamed at the same time, only one with excitement, and the other with horror. My heart did backflips, handstands, jump squats—anything to get its energy out. I can't believe it, I thought, opening my eyes briefly and closing them again. I'm doing it. I'm kissing a billionaire! Oh, god, what do I get myself into?! "I saw that," Lazareth murmured in between kisses, pushing me back against the pillows to better hold me. "I... don’t know...what you...mean," I gasped, fighting for air and for his kisses at the same time. "I didn't...do...anything..." "Oh yes, you did," Lazareth stated. He broke away from me, gasping, gazing into my eyes. "You looked at me." "So?" I curled my arms around his neck, tugging him down. "Is there a problem with that, Mr. Noir?" A wicked smirk coiled onto Lazareth's lips and his body complied to my pull. His forehead touched mine, hot and smooth. His lips grazed my eyelids, my nose, the top of my lips. "Yes. It means I failed in my kiss," he panted, brushing his lips and nose down my jaw. I pushed my head up back against the headboard, eager for more. It was weird how magnetic his lips were—how addicting. It was like he was alcohol and I was an addict...or maybe it was the other way around? I wanted, no, needed more of him. I needed more of something that in reality, shouldn't have been mine. I mean, a billionaire? And me? But I answered him, running my fingers up and down his stubbled cheek, his light beard leaving itchy cherry patches on my skin. "You did not fail. Not at all," I refuted softly. "I only opened my eyes to look at you. I-I wanted to know if this was real...if this kiss was actually happening." "Oh, you'd better believe that it's happening," Lazareth growled. "You don't know how fucking long I've waited to do that. I kept fighting with my mind to

kiss you...your lips looked so addicting, and hell they really are..." "I know how you feel," I sighed. "I've been fighting with my brain too." "Well, we both got what we wanted," Lazareth purred, kissing my cheek, then pecking my lips. "God, I don't want to let you go." "You have to at some point," I giggled, petting his hair like he was a cat. "I have to go home tomorrow, Lazareth. Gryffin'll probably be waiting for me. Hell, he'll have a heart attack if he finds out I'm staying with you." "Let him wait longer and have his heart attack," Lazareth pouted. He held me strongly. "I don't want you to leave, Adrienne." I shook my head, although to be honest, I didn't want to leave either. I wanted to stay with him and keep kissing. I wanted the butterflies fluttering in my stomach to remain—I didn't want the feeling to leave, but I knew it had to at some point. It couldn't stay forever. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" I suggested. "I'm not leaving tonight anyway...courtesy of you. I'm not sure if I'll be working but..." "Why not?" Lazareth pulled away from me, helping me sit up on the mattress. "You weren't fired, right?" "Well, no, but—!" "Then you still have a job," he said firmly. "Adrienne, none of your actions were wrong. Michael was trying to molest you. Kicking him away was self-defense. You still have a job." A small, tight smile formed on my mouth. Crawling to my knees, I pressed my lips against Lazareth's cheek, leaning back on my legs. "Thank you," I murmured. "I really thought I wouldn't have a job after...you know." "Do you anything about it?" "No."

"Good. I don't want him to dominate your mind." He inclined towards me. "I want to be the only man dominating your mind and body." With a scoff, I pushed him away by his nose, my eyebrow raised arrogantly. "What if I don't want to be dominated by some man?" Lazareth mirrored my expression, a cocky grin twisting on his crimson lips. "Then you won't be." I blinked. Well...I didn't expect that answer. "What do you mean?" "I won't dominate you, not unless you ask me to," He explained, still smiling. "And trust me, I can be quite persuasive." I sneered, poking his chest with my nose held high. "I'd like to see you try." "Excuse me?" Laura poked her head through the door, looking between Lazareth and me. We both shuffled away from one another, to make sure Laura didn't get any weird ideas, and Lazareth tilted his head to the side. He fixed his shirt and smoothed his hair, smiling his million-dollar smile. "Is everything alright, Laura?" He asked, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. I giggled into my palm, earning a stiff glare from Lazareth. Mimicking him, Laura stepped into the room, eyeing us as though she knew something that we didn't. "Everything is fine, sir," She said. "I just came to get Miss. Walker for dinner. I have laid yours out for later in the evening. Clyde has a few men waiting to speak with you downstairs." Immediately, the relaxed hunch in Lazareth's posture stiffened, like an alert predator. "Are they...?" "Yes." Laura bent her head, and it felt like a heavy cloak had been draped over the room. From my place on the bed, I frowned. Whoever these men are, they didn't sound very affable. Sighing, Lazareth kissed me sweetly, taking his time to pull away from me despite Laura's presence. He cupped my cheek, forcing my eyes to meet his.

"I'll see you as soon as I can, okay?" He murmured. I shrugged, trying to mirror his smile even as Laura's gaze burned into my back. She had seen everything, I knew. "Alright. Take your time." Nodding, Lazareth kissed me one last time and tilted his head towards Laura, swiftly exiting the room with the door clicking shut behind him. "I hope he did not tire you," was the first thing Laura said once he was gone. She floated to my side, pressing her cold hand against my scorching forehead. I blushed straight to my toes, nibbling on my bottom lip. "No, not at all." She hummed, stroking my hair gently. "I'm glad. That is a beautiful smile. You should keep it always." "I try," I shrugged. "But living with anxiety all the time...it's not very easy." "Not everything is easy," Laura agreed. "But we must work through them, yes? That is life, is it not?" Rolling my eyes, I snickered, pulling the covers off to help her clean the room. "I suppose so. Everything is different. Everyone is different." "Yes," she said. "But everyone also has one similarity." "Really?" I looked up from folding the blanket. "What is it?" Pausing, she smiled at me, an eerie, insightful smile that made me feel like she was reading not only my mind but also, my soul. "Every coin has two—one good, and one bad—side."

Chapter 15

One paper down, thirty more to go. I cast a dirty look at the stack of new white paper that balanced on my bed. They had just been taken out of their wrapping, and already, some of the sheets had folded ears on the corners. One of my biggest pet peeves. Sighing, I reached for a bunch of the middle papers, smoothing their corners one by one. After staying the night at Lazareth's and coming home to Gryffin's grilling the next day, I decided to take a mental health day for myself—with work, since I had come frighteningly close to getting fired from my job. Thankfully, as I sat on my unmade bed, scrolling through websites, editing articles, and printing scripts onto sheets of paper, Michael's taunting voice didn't plague my mind. I didn't see his hands groping my skin or taste his sour breath fanning on my lips. In fact, I hadn't thought about him since my kiss with Lazareth. It was the only thought—only feeling that conquered my mind. "Thank God for that, too," I mumbled to myself, squinting to see the dark mode application on my screen. "I would've had a mental breakdown if I kept thinking about Michael." Now that I thought more about it, though, I didn't feel angry about it anymore. Actually, with the way my heart squeezed, I felt pretty hurt about it. It was true that Michael and I weren't on the best of all roads after my rejection, but that was years ago, in middle school! I didn't think he'd hold a grudge for that long. I suppose in a way, it was also my fault. I was the one, after all, who had suggested a friendship, despite how hurt and angry I had made him feel. But did that make his reaction valid? Maybe in middle school, when he avoided me for an entire month, maybe. I chased after him then, apologizing and pleading. I didn't expect an apology from him, though. From what Jackie told me, Michael had skipped town after Lazareth fired him and, as per her words, "publically humiliated him." Although with all the laughing she was doing, it took a few tries for her to actually get a legible sentence out.

"Same old Jackie," I chuckled. "I'd bet she was eager to see Mike leave. He deserved it—Lazareth gave him what he was asking for..." Dropping back against my pillows, I tossed an old receipt aside, closing my eyes. It felt like there was a hurricane in my brain, battling between Lazareth's decision to fire Mike and my decision of rejecting him years ago. Maybe if I hadn't rejected him, he wouldn't have touched me as he did two days ago? No, then it only would have been worse. Being with Mike would've been like living in prison, then. I knew I wasn't the strongest girl, physically, on the block. If I had said yes to Mike's proposal years ago...god, what would've happened to me then? Abused and raped, that's what, I answered my own sadistic mind. It was still angry at me for accepting Lazareth's kiss, but honestly, my mind was already fucked up as it was. I did what I wanted to do. It didn't dictate my life for me...although, scientifically, it probably did. So, it was their fault that Mike did what he did. That I didn't say anything or try to fight back. My mind let him take control over me. I could have done something then... No, think positive, Adrienne, I scolded myself. Think of happy things. Rainbows, unicorns...Lazareth. This time a dreamy sigh left my dark pink lips, some small bite incisions left on the bottom part of my mouth. Luckily, Gryffin hadn't seen them when he did a full-on police inspection of me when I returned from Lazareth's earlier in the day. Being a police officer makes him easily suspicious, though, especially when men take an interest in me. It irked me, but it also made my heart flutter at how lucky I was to have a protective older brother. The younger one, however... Laughing giddily, I snuggled into my fluffy pillows, taking a packet and looking over the contents with a heavy exhale. The things Lazareth made me feel... Every warning that Kath and Gryffin gave me drowned in my mind and it felt like rainbows were filling my vision. Rainbows with Lazareth painted in different colors. Unicorns with his face on the muzzle...eyes as dark as his... Suddenly, a dark contract caught the corner of my eye, snapping me out of my daydream. Immediately, Rainbow and Unicorn Lazareth sifted out of my mind, and when I took the paper to get a better look, I realized that it was the

application Lazareth had sent me a couple of months ago before I decided to work for Keating Enterprises. Now that I think about it, though, I probably should've gotten a hint about who I would potentially meet from the name of the company, but I guess it didn't ring a bell in my mind at the time. "How come Lazareth didn't ask me about this?" I mused, skimming over the words typed on the greyish page. It looked like any regular contract I had gotten. Benefits and requirements, along with questions and a signature line bold and big at the bottom of the surface. "He could have brought it up yesterday. I thought he would have? After all, I didn't tell him I was working for someone else..." Was he upset? Upset at Mike, definitely. Upset at me? I...wasn't too sure. He didn't seem mad when I talked to him yesterday. The kiss may have sated him for a while, but how would he have reacted if we didn't kiss? What if he was about to bring up the contract and didn't because...well...the atmosphere changed? Lazareth doesn't seem like the type of guy who would stop a conversation just because the atmosphere of the room changed to a romantic setting. Then again, I wasn't one of his employees. I was...a friend? Maybe? What was I now to him? Thankfully, my phone began to ring before I could go into too much depth about the question and make my mind go insane. Thinking about Lazareth could wait a little longer. Instead of Jackie or Kath calling like they usually did, I was pleasantly surprised to see my Mom's name flash brightly on the dark green background of my phone. "Hi, Mom," I beamed, answering the call before Gryffin would poke his head irritably through the crack of my door. "Adrienne! How are you, sweetie?" She asked. "I'm doing good. How are you?" "I'm fine—Vincent! Don't you dare touch that plate!... Why? It's not cooked yet —sweetheart..."

Something clashed on the other end of the receiver and I winced. Most likely, Mom was making food, and Vincent either took too big of a free sample, or he didn't want to eat whatever she made. I was leaning towards the former. "Sorry about that, hon," Mom puffed, returning to the speaker. "Vin's hungry but what I'm making for him takes a while to cook." I chuckled, placing my laptop on my lap to continue with my work. "That sounds like Vincent to me," I agreed. "What's up?" "I just wanted to check on you and Gryff. You're doing okay at your new job, right?" Again, I grimaced, speechless for a few moments. "Um...about that..." "What?" Mom's voice came out sharply. "What happened, Adrienne? Did they do anything to you?" "Uh...kind of?" I shrugged even though she couldn't see it. "It's a really long story, Mom, and it's pretty late here, so..." "Well, you're not off the hook that easily, young lady," Mom's condescending voice rasped. Then, she paused. "It doesn't happen to do with the newspaper, does it?" "What newspaper?" I asked, aware of how fast my heart was thrashing in my chest. She hadn't seen it, had she? Lazareth had the clipping down in less than a day! How could she have been able to...? "It was online," Mom replied. Internally, I smacked my forehead. "You were dancing with that billionaire...the one who was at your graduation?" "Lazareth Noir," I clipped. I really didn't want to get into this conversation—not after I had just finished one with myself, but knowing my mother, she wouldn't let me off the hook easily, especially if I cut a conversation. "And nothing happened. At least, not what the newspaper said. We were just dancing." "And he gave you something at your graduation," Mom added. "What's going on between you two, Adrienne?

Natural Mom instinct, I groaned. "Nothing mom! I—!" "Don't you nothing me, Adrienne," Mom said sternly. something crashed on the other line, but she ignored it. "Something is going on between you two. I know you're keeping it from me, and that's fine. But if this gets serious..." I thought back to our kiss and hushed words to one another, Lazareth promising more. This definitely wasn't the end of our interactions, but... "Okay, something is happening between us," I caved. "But I'm not entirely sure what." "I knew it!" Mom exclaimed, practically breaking my eardrum. "I knew from the moment I saw you both at graduation! What's he like? How long have you two been together? Are you even together?" "I...I don't really know, Mom," I itted softly. "Honestly, after everything that's happened these past few days, I'm not sure what to think—with him..." She was silent for a couple of seconds. "Why don't you and Gryffin come to visit your Dad and me? Vin would be thrilled to see you, and you and I can talk about, well, the mannerisms of men." She laughed, and soon, I found myself laughing, the frown that had pasted itself on my lips quirking. "Okay. I'll let Gryff know and take some time off work." "Will you be able to?" "I should be. I'll call you by tomorrow to tell you when we'll be able to come." "Perfect! See you both then. Love you, Adri." "You too, Mom." With a sharp click, our call ended. Suddenly very tired, I tossed my phone onto the pile of discarded papers just as a message pinged. "From Lazareth, huh?" I wondered aloud, scanning the message with my half-

lidded eyes. Did he want to talk? At this hour? What was he even doing up this late? Maybe he wants to talk about the kiss...or kiss again, my heart squealed, jumping up and down like a middle school girl who got asked to the eighthgrade prom by her crush. Attempting to my own girlish excitement with a small smile, I pressed the green button to call him, my heart racing for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "Adrienne," Lazareth's chocolate voice answered immediately, turning my insides into mush. My palms felt very sweaty suddenly and my heart burned in my chest, thumping against my ribcage. "Lazareth," I whispered, knawing at my bottom lip. " How are you?" "Better now that you've called," he replied softly. "I wanted to talk to you." "You did?" I asked. I quirked my eyebrow. "What's up?" "I just wanted to see how you're doing," he said. "After yesterday...I was wondering how you've been faring?" "Are you talking about Mike? Or the kiss?" I asked, unable to hide the smirk in my voice. "Both, but more so our kiss than the shitty excuse of a human being," he stated bluntly, bringing a loud laugh out of me. His creamy chuckle dripped in my ear, softening my giggles. "I have thought a lot about it," I itted. "Not in a bad way, but...yeah. It's been on my mind." "I see I am not the only one, however, the image of our kiss has been a welcome thought," Lazareth itted. "It distracted me plenty today, but I enjoyed being distracted. I haven't thought about anything but work for a very long time." "I can understand," I said. "When I was in school, I was the same way. Schoolwork was the only important aspect of my life. It took a lot of Kath's speeches to get me to have a social life."

"I can see Kathryn giving you lectures," he chuckled. "But I was actually wondering if you would be free this week?" "I'm not sure," I responded slowly, opening a new tab on my computer to check for flights to Rome. "My Mom called and wanted me to visit, so I'm trying to find a flight for this week. Why?" "No reason," he said, albeit a bit more tartly than how he was previously speaking. "I'll...talk to you about it later." "Are you sure?" I pressed the phone closer to my ear. "I'm free now if you want to talk over the phone?" "No," he snapped. "I'll wait until you come back from your trip. Be careful when using your phone. We're still tracking the person who was stalking you." And with a hard, final click, Lazareth ended the call.

Chapter 16

As Gryffin and I stood idly in the ticket booth line, observing the large, yet familiar airport, I felt his dark eyes studying me with a pinch of hostility. It was like his eyes were tightening around the skin of my neck to force the words I had been itching to tell him out of my mouth. He didn't know anything about me and Lazareth, or what we had done the night I slept over at his penthouse. Knowing Gryffin, he would've probably forbidden me from seeing Lazareth again if I told him, like the true, overprotective brother he is. Regarding him out of the corner of my eye, I made sure that there were at least six people in front of us before leveling him with a long, mom-like sigh. The kind of sigh your parents make when they've told you to do a chore more than three times, but you're still stuck on your chair doing 'homework'. Gryffin's eyes darted to mine. "What?" I shrugged. "Why do you keep looking at me like you want me dead?" "I'm not," he denied. "I'm just looking around. We haven't been to the airport since—" "Since Dad's funeral, I know," I clipped. "Now, are you gonna tell me the truth or not?" Dark, coal-like eyes darted to the ground, then back at my neck. Gryffin's once serene smile twisted into a small scowl—the kind that reminded me of Lazareth's when he found out about Mike. "Sometimes I wonder why you never majored in journalism," he said, toying with the thin metal clips of his backpack. "You sure have a knack for scaring the shit out of people." "That's not the answer I was looking for," I pressed. The line moved afoot, and so did I. "Why were you looking at me like I had a hickey on my neck or something?"

"Do you?" Gryffin retorted, and for a moment, my hand flinched, wanting to reach up and rub the skin of my nape. Lazareth hadn't kissed me there, had he? I didn't really —everything was a blur. I refrained from doing so, though. Gryffin probably wanted to see some reaction to convince himself I was fucking a billionaire in my free time. "No, I don't," I said tartly. "And if I did, who would I get it from? I don't have a boyfriend." "Not that I know of," he responded dryly. "And you don't need a boyfriend anymore to get a hickey. There are bars and clubs for that." Sucking a long, irate breath up my nose, I clenched my hand and rolled my eyes. "Well, somebody stuck a stick up your ass." "Yeah. Ask Lazareth about it," Gryffin retorted. My eyes widened. So that's what was bothering him... Turning to face his shoulder, I yanked Gryffin's arm so he would look at me again, wishing I had the same, cold look Lazareth had whenever he was upset. "Lazareth and I haven't done anything," I lied through my teeth. "We're only friends, Gryffin. That's all we'll ever be—" "No, it's not." I blinked. "What?" Gryffin sighed. "I've seen the way he's looked at you, Adrienne. He looks at you the same way I used to look at Greta. He wants you like you're oxygen and he's a dying man. He needs you, and knowing Lazareth," he scoffed. "He'll do anything to get you. And knowing you, Adrienne, you'll get sucked up into this big, merciless world and come out battered, or maybe not come out at all. And that...that scares me." "Oh, Gryff..." I squeezed his arm, a bit embarrassed to hug him in front of a large group of people. "I know you don't like Lazareth, but that's only because you see what the media paints him to be. He's not some tyrant, Gryff."

"Yeah, and maybe you're right." He ruffled my hair fondly. "But I'm still your older brother. My reasons of fearing for you are justified." "I never said that they weren't," I said. "I just want you to give him a chance." "I'll give him the benefit of a doubt." "Next!" A chirpy voice called from the counter. Damn, it was already our turn? Where had the six people gone? "Names, please," she asked as Gryffin slid our ports and tickets we got from the kiosk. "I'm Gryffin Walker. She's my younger sister, Adrienne Walker," he said. The woman's dark blue eyes darted from Gryffin to his port, then my face to my port. She hummed, scanning the tickets and taping a ticket to our carryon bags. "First class," she mumbled. "Lucky kids." Gryffin and I paused in taking our bags, sharing a somewhat perplexed glance. "Did you say...first class?" I asked loudly over the roar of the airport. "Yes," she smiled. "Your tickets were updated yesterday night. Last-minute decision, huh?" "Um...we didn't book First Class," Gryffin stammered. "We were flying economy?" The woman frowned, then typed a few things onto her computer. "Uh, nope. It says Gryffin and Adrienne Walker. Rome, Italy. First Class." She looked back at us. "It is you, right?" "Yes, it is us, but..." Gryffin trailed off and his shiny eyes jerked to mine. His mouth unceremoniously dropped, and just at that moment, I realized the implication of his continuous stare. "Lazareth!"

~****~

"I hate men," I grumbled, biting down on the creamy vanilla gelato. Immediately, I recoiled with a yelp, almost tossing my snack onto the cobblestone road in front of me. "That makes two of us, darling," my mother replied dryly, gesturing towards my shirt with the tip of her spoon. "You have some on your shirt." "Oh." I smoothed my hand down my clothes, the sticky summer treat latching onto my hand like leeches. The sun-scorched my head and I wished I had taken Gryffin's advice to bring a hat. Thankfully, he was visiting the Collesium with our step-dad and Vin, so he wasn't there to rub it in my face that he was right. "Now, tell me everything about Lazareth Noir," mom demanded, pushing the books she had bought from a nearby shop to the side. "Did you know he has a branch of fashion here in Rome?" "Of course, he does," I grumbled. "I mean, don't get me wrong. First-class and a new phone?! Amazing! But why does he keep doing this, Ma? Is he trying to make me indebted to him?" "I wouldn't say that," she mused. "When people are in love, they'll do anything to get the affection of their loved ones." "But that doesn't mean that he needs to buy me things!" I groaned, expaturated. "I mean, does he think money grows from trees?" "Well, he is a billionaire," she said. "He has money, Adrienne. Money you have to realize he's willing to spend on you." "Says the woman who turned down some duke in favor of a mechanic," I grumbled. "Speaking of does dad still work as a mechanic?" "No. He started college again. I think your boyfriend inspired him to get back into business and finance," Mom teased, nudging my elbow with hers.

I blushed. "Mom! He's not my boyfriend!" I complained, all the while visualizing Lazareth's alluring black eyes, his dimpled, wicked smirk, and plush lips. "Not yet," she pointed out. "Have you kissed him?" "Um...once." And I told her the story of Mike and how Lazareth fired him. How I blacked out and he took me to his penthouse. How we spent time talking and ended up kissing each other. "I always knew Mike was a bad influence," Mom sighed. "You aren't hurt, are you honey? Why didn't you call? You know your father would've given that boy a piece of his mind!" "I know. But Lazareth had already done enough damage," I murmured. "And I'm fine, Mom. It was scary, but...I'm glad he was there." I smiled shyly. "Is it wrong to say that having him kiss me was kind of like a fantasy dream come true?" She grinned at me. "Not at all! It was my dream when I was your age as well!" She glanced at her phone when a message from my Step-Dad popped up. "We aren't all lucky to find our Prince Charming young. Hold him tight and dance with him all night while you can, Adrienne. Never let a man like Lazareth go." I beamed. "Thanks, Mom. I'm glad you can at least give me some advice. Gryffin's been nothing but hostile whenever I talk about Lazareth!" "Well, as I said, men will be men," she said. "Gryffin just loves you too much to see you with another man. He'll get over himself soon." "Yeah..." "Are you taking your meds?" "Yes." "And going to therapy?" "Yes." "Are they helping?"

"Somewhat?" "That's good enough." Mom nodded, biting into her gelato. I stared at her. "Mom?" "Yes?" "Can I tell you something?" "Anything." She reached over the table, squeezing my hand. "What's wrong?" I let out a deep exhale. My chest felt like it had ice it in, and my fingers felt numb. "Sometimes, I worry that Lazareth is only using me," I itted. "He sent me an application for his company. I didn't want to work there because I—I heard about bosses and their assistants, and I didn't really want a scandal on my hands. Besides...I'm a bit afraid to get tangled with him...what if I get on the news? Or if people laugh at me? What if I get ridiculed for being with Lazareth? Or if he dumps me? Or—!" "Adrienne!" Mom slapped her hand on the table, startling me speechless. I flushed. "Sorry. I—I didn't mean to start rambling again..." She cleared her throat. "It's alright, honey. Just calm down. Don't panic. We can take this one step at a time, okay?" "O-Okay." "Good." She cleared her throat again. "Now, boys can be tricky, especially boys like Lazareth. But what do you feel for him, Adrienne?" I frowned. "What do you mean? Do I love him?" "Love may be too strong of a word right now," Mom said. "But do you like him?" I nodded rapidly. "Yeah. I really, really like him, Mom. I'm just not sure if I'm making the right decision to pursue a relationship with him. I mean—it's not like

we've done anything apart from kissing! Hel—heck I don't even know if he loves me!" "We don't always know right away," Mom assured. "And sometimes, we do make mistakes in the romance department. You know, with me and your father. If I had known who he was before I married him—!" She shook her head. "But I know you, Adrienne. You're a smart, beautiful young lady. And being with Lazareth—it's the right decision, to me, at least, from a mother's point of view." "How do you know?" "I saw the way he looked at you at your graduation, sweetheart," she chuckled, almost mirroring Gryffin's words, just with more happiness and no venom. "There was some lustiness, I'll it, but with the way his eyes shone when he looked at you, he cares immensely for you, my darling. And I give you my blessings if you do decide to date him, by the way." I laughed, brushing a few strands of my hair back. "Gee, thanks, Mom. I'm not sure if dating is in his plans, though..." "Nonsense!" Mom tapped my head. "Any man who kisses a woman with as ion as you described would obviously be interested in a relationship!" "Maybe...but I'll work on that later. Right now, I'm with my family," I beamed. For the rest of the week, I spent pushing Lazareth out of my mind. He was persistent, though. Constantly, he conquered my dreams with his tantalizing lips and hypnotic eyes. When I thought of him, it was like he controlled my body. Somehow, his dark eyes manipulated me and made me a willing slave to his body, his soul. He made me warm and loved in my dreams, forcing me to awake to the harsh slap of reality. And even though I couldn't stop thinking about him, I ignored his calls for an entire week, wanting to think—to enjoy my time with my family. I ignored him —even though I wanted him.

Chapter 17

"Home sweet home," Gryffin sighed, tugging the door open and striding into the house towards the couch, flopping on the pillows unceremoniously. "Home indeed," Vincent grinned, making a beeline for the TV remote. "Mom and Dad don't have any kid's channels on them. Do you know how many episodes of Teen Vamp I missed?" "Does it look like I care?" Gryffin's muffled voice questioned sarcastically. "Adrienne!" Vincent complained, pouting at me with his big eyes. "Be nice, Gryff," I commanded from the doorway, tapping at my phone. "I'm older than you," he replied, looking up with a gasp. "You can't tell me what to do, Adri." "I just did, and you just listened," I said smugly, glancing at my screen before I could catch the look of defeat on Gryffin's face. "What are you looking for?" He asked, beckoning me inside. "Um...nothing," I mumbled, floating towards my bedroom. I didn't want to tell him that I was waiting for Lazareth to call. After ignoring him for an entire week, I wasn't sure why I was waiting for him of all people to call me. I would think that'd he'd be pretty angry after I ditched him. "It's not nothing," Gryffin pressed, following me. I flopped onto my bed, tossing my phone onto my bedside table, and after a few moments, he sat in front of me, patting my leg to get my attention. "Yeah?" "It's Lazareth, isn't it?" He asked, his voice so soft I almost didn't hear him Almost.

I pulled my face out of my sheets, frowning. "What?" "You're thinking about Lazareth," Gryffin repeated, his jaw clenched like he had screwed it too tightly. "You didn't see him when we were on vacation so now you're looking for him, right?" I looked away, unsure if I was sheepish or sorry. "Yeah," I replied. "I was—well, I am. How did you know?" Scoffing, Gryffin pulled his legs onto the sheets, crossing them like he was in kindergarten again. "It's kinda obvious, Adrienne. You're almost never on your phone and when you are, it's only for at most thirty minutes to gossip with Kath! And ever since Lazareth came into the picture, he's all you talk about!" "That obvious, huh?" I blushed, biting on my nail. "I don't sound or look stalkerish, do I?" "Nah, not really. You're more like a fan than a stalker," he assured, brushing my bangs out of my eyes. "I'm really worried about this, Adrienne, I won't lie to you." "You've made that pretty clear, Gryff," I said, sighing. I gave him a small smile. "I get that you don't trust Lazareth, but I do. He's done nothing to make me believe otherwise." "But he's a billionaire!" Gryffin hissed so that Vin wouldn't hear us. "They're not trustworthy at all. By default, Lazareth falls into that category. He may be nice now, but what if he's only being nice because he wants something from you? Huh? What if he's just looking for...a sex slave or something? Or some employee that he can order around? What will you do then?" Like with the contract, I thought. He only needs my signature to force me under his thumb, but... "I don't know," I snapped. "But I'm willing to try. You don't know him like I do, Gryffin—!" "Oh my god!" He rolled his eyes. "Adrienne, you can't keep using that as your defense. So what if you know him better? The only person who really knows him is himself. He knows what he wants, and he knows how to get what he

wants. What part of that do you not understand?!" "I understand what you're saying!" Anger bubbled like fried spices in my chest, words exploding out of my mouth. "You've repeated the same thing over and over again, Gryffin, but this is my life! I chose what I do and what I don't do, not you! I understand you're fears—really, I do! But...I think I love him, and I really want this to work because I love him!" "You...love him..." Gryffin echoed breathlessly. His eyes, once locked on my bedsheets, drifted up to my face. His dark pupils were wide as if I had just told him Mom was dead. "You...do?" "I do," I affirmed softly, even though I didn't want to. I wanted to scream my feelings to the entire world, but with so many people against me, I wasn't sure that I could. Gryffin hated Lazareth, Vincent knew nothing about him, and to anyone else, we were in two separate leagues! Reaching for his hand, I gave Gryffin's fingers a gentle squeeze. "I love you, Gryff. You know that, right?" He didn't look at me but nodded his head, his lips pressed together in a thin line. His eyes opened and closed like he was praying to God that our conversation was only a dream. "I know," he finally said. "And I love you too. You're my only sister, Adrienne. I...I just want you to get the best man possible. I want you to be happy, but I'm not sure that Lazareth is the man for that job." He bent his head again, parts of his hair falling of his eyes like a canopy of leaves. My heart squeezed and the anger that once bubbled inside of my stomach dissipated. He's still afraid, I thought. I can't make him trust Lazareth, but I know he trusts me. Why can't he trust my judgment? He didn't...see the contract, did he? "Did you, by any chance, see a contract or something?" I asked tentatively, brushing his hair away just like he had done mine. His hand snapped up to mine, coiling around my wrist. "No, I don't look through your things." Then, he frowned. "Contract? What contract? It better not be some

sex worker contract or anything like that, Adrienne..." "It's not!" I placated, raising my hands in front of my chest, my palms facing him. "It's just some silly thing, don't worry about it." "That's the thing." Gryffin swallowed what sounded like a sob. "I can't help but worry about you, Adrienne, and—Oh, god, I'm crying now..." He wiped vehemently at his eyes, sniffling. "And I don't want you to get hurt. I-I don't want to lose you, Adrienne...not to a man like him..." He's crying, and it's all your fault, my brain taunted arrogantly. You don't even care about your brother's feelings—ha! What a lousy sister! Oh, shut up! I snapped, wrapping my arms around Gryffin's shaking shoulders. Leaning on my knees, I ran my fingers through his hair. He loved when I did that to him, even when we were little. It helped that Gryffin had really soft and curly hair. It was like sifting through a dog's fur, or any type of fur, for the matter! "I'll be careful," I promised. "I'll make sure to keep my guard up. But I really do love him, Gryffin. He's made me feel...amazing! Better than any of my old boyfriends. You how that went down..." "Oh, don't remind me," Gryffin sneered, crawling a few feet away from me so he could bring his head up. "That's part of the reason I'm worried for you, Adrienne. All your exes have been nothing but a bunch of pathetic douchebags who only used you for sex. I don't want you to have the same problem with Lazareth, because I'm not sure I can save you from him." "Hey! I'm a big girl now," I teased, bumping his shoulder. "I can tie my shoes and button my coat on my own!" "I know you can," he said, chuckling over a sob. His glimmering eyes met mine, filled with the same love I saw over and over again at every family reunion, every birthday party, every promotion, or awards ceremony. "You're a brave, strong woman, Adrienne. I never doubted that. It's just..." "My anxiety?" "...Yeah."

"Gryff, I'll be fine," I said firmly, hoping that if I spoke assertively, he would believe me. "I told you—I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself—!" "Physically, maybe," he interjected. "But what about when things get emotional? I've seen your outbursts before, Adrienne. I've seen your reactions, and they break me. I can't stand to see you cry, and Lazareth is exactly the type of guy who can do that without batting an eye." "He can," I agreed. "But he won't. I may not be mentally strong—yet, but I'm working on it, right? And you're helping me. Why do I have to worry about anything?" "That's a first," Gryffin smirked. "Adrienne the worrier, not worrying? Should I bring you to the hospital?" "Shut up!" I shoved his shoulder and he toppled off the bed, still laughing. "I don't always worry!" He grinned, pulling himself back up onto the crinkled sheets. "Yes, you do." He sighed. "But, if you really love him this much, I'll you, just like I said before. I...I just wanted to let you know about the full extent of my worries." "Thank you for telling me," I said, hugging him again. "I value your opinion, Gryff, and I promise you, I'll be careful around him, I promise." He smiled, brushing his thumb over a childhood scar on my cheek. "I know," he murmured. "You're my sister. I know you'll be strong." Well, he trusts me, so that's good, I sighed internally. He may not be okay with it right now, but hopefully, he'll warm up soon. Lazareth isn't a bad guy—I know he isn't...but how does he feel? Does he even love me? Or are we just a one-night stand kind of relationship? God, maybe Gryffin is right? Maybe I'm not emotionally ready for a new relationship! "So..." Gryffin reached for my phone, toying with it between his fingers. "What's up with Lazareth? You said you wanted to talk to him?" "Yeah, but he's not picking up," I grumbled, snatching the device from him. I didn't need another phone—not that Lazareth ever had to find out I broke the second one. "I get that I ignored him during our trip, but I needed time to think

about everything. And besides, it was a family vacation! He should've known that I'd be busy!" "Maybe it was something important?" Gryffin suggested, leaning on his elbow. "I don't know what he'd want with you when your miles away from him, though." "Do you think he's purposefully ignoring me?" I asked suddenly like a lightbulb went off in my head. "Like, because I ignored him, now he's ignoring me?" Gryffin shrugged. "Probably. It's childish, but it's working." "How?" "You presumably made him worked up when you didn't pick up his calls, so now, he's doing the same to you...and having the same effect." I let out a long, aggravated groan, smashing my head into my pillow over and over again. "That god damned..." I trailed off, scowling. "Man, if he'd pick up I'd give him a piece of my mind right now!" Gryffin laughed, tossing his head back. "Yeah, good luck with that, sis." "Hey, guys?" Vincent poked his head through the doorway, looking around the room until he spotted us. "What's up, Vin?" Gryffin asked. "There's a package here for Adrienne," he said, walking into the room with a brown box tucked underneath his arm. "It's from...Olympian Deals? Damn, what did you buy?" Gryffin and I exchanged a look. Olympian Deals...Lazareth... "Oh, it's just some dress I got," I said, taking the box from him. "Thanks." He eyed me suspiciously, his eyebrow raised to a point. "Okay...cool then." He lingered around the room for a moment, hands deep in his pockets, and when he

realized that I wasn't going to open the box in front of him, he swiftly slid out of my room, shutting the door behind him. Most likely, he was waiting behind the door for our reactions. "What did he send you?" Gryffin asked, watching me eagerly as I ripped the package open. "I don't know. At least, not yet...Holy Hera!" "What?!" Gryffin changed his position on the bed so that he was just behind my shoulder. I could feel his breathing quicken and I was pretty sure his eyes had widened. "Is that..." he trailed off. I nodded. "An A-Z dictionary on Devils and other mythical monsters...why would he send me this?" "To warn you, maybe?" Gryffin took the book from my hands. "It's some pretty old shit. The publication date is in the 1600s!" "So then it's only fiction," I stated. "If it's in the 1600s, then it was around the witch trials period. They believed anything back then!" "Still..." Gryffin flipped through the pages of the book. "Some of this stuff sounds pretty legit. What do you think he wants you to do with it? Read it? Warn you?" I sighed, plucking the volume from his hands. "There's only one way to find out."

~****~

"Miss. Walker," Clyde bowed slightly when he saw me in the lobby, courteous and distant as ever. "Mr. Noir is expecting you."

"Thank you, Clyde," I smiled, allowing him to take my hand and lead me towards the large, silver elevators. Underneath my worn sneakers, I could feel the soft velvet carpets shaft my heels as though they were tickling my feet. Everything about Lazareth's company building was red and gold. Contrasting to his name, it seemed to be the aesthetic he liked, or maybe he was just trying to imitate the colors of Olympus? My stomach clenched and unclenched as the elevator rose. Sweat pooled underneath my fingertips and my teeth ripped silently at my bottom lip, savoring the iron taste of blood as it dribbled down my mouth. The taste grounded me, but the airy feeling didn't leave my body. It's only Lazareth, I thought impatiently, tapping my foot and taking composing breaths. He's not going to do anything to you, Adrienne...even if you did ignore him for more than a week... My chest felt heavy as the shaft cleanly slid to a stop. With a sharp ring, the doors slid open, revealing a chilly grey hallway that led to two twin doors. Clyde and I both stepped out, his hand still on my elbow. Images were flashing in front of my eyes now. Images of Lazareth and I kissing—of us laying on the bed together—of my graduation day when he gifted me my phone. My throat felt immensely dry as Clyde let go of me, his eyes lidded slightly. "He'll be waiting for you inside. Don't worry, he's in a good mood..." he said, a small, if not, a queasy smile gracing his lips. I was grateful to him for trying to make me feel better, but I knew my conversation with Lazareth wouldn't be a very entertaining one. Carefully opening the door, I slid into Lazareth's office, shutting it quietly behind me. Lazareth was standing in front of a large window like all billionaires did when they were brooding. His back was stiff, unmoving even when I cleared my throat. "Lazareth, we need to talk," I spoke firmly, hiding the tremor in my voice. Clenching my hands, I took a step closer to him. A fierce, tense aura radiated from him as if warning me to stay away. I pushed ahead, though. I wasn't about to back down from him.

"Talk about what?" Lazareth hissed icily. In his reflection, his dark eyes narrowed. "You seemed perfectly fine with ignoring me when you were in Rome." "That's another thing I want to talk about," I continued tartly, ignoring his clipped words. "How the hell did you know where I was going? What flight I was on? And what about the stalker? You haven't told me anything about that, Lazareth!" "You're ignoring the main point," Lazareth growled. He turned and his hands snapped to my shoulders, gripping me tightly. I swallowed the whimper that pushed up my throat. "The point is that you haven't been keeping me in the loop. And when I do come back, you give me...a mythical monsters book?" "1600s copy. Original edition," Lazareth grumbled. "So what? I give you a book, I ignore your calls. Why the hell do you care? I thought we were playing like this?" "That's what you call playing?!" I asked, shaking his hands off me to plant my hands on my hips. "The only thing you've been playing is with my heart, Lazareth!" "And you think you haven't been playing with mine?" Lazareth snarled. He captured my wrists with one of his hands. "Well, Adrienne, you are so sourly wrong." "Let me go," I snapped, wriggling my hands in his grasp. He only smirked, though, dragging his finger up my cheek. "Let me go, Lazareth! Let me—!" "Weren't you just pleading with me to hold you a few weeks ago?" Lazareth purred, leaning closer to my face. His fingers burned into my skin and he pulled me closer to his hard chest. I fought against the temptation to let him hold me— his body felt like a prison, not a source of comfort. "I was not," I said sharply. "You were the one who kissed me—!" "And you let me." He pulled back so our eyes met, our lips so close, yet so far. A wicked smirk curled along the thin, irritated line of his mouth. "I thought you

enjoyed our kiss, Adrienne? If my memory serves me well, I recall you saying that you'd let me do it again, did you not?" "I sure as hell didn't!" I denied it, although it was a weak claim because, in truth, I had let him kiss me, over and over again, unlike any man had before. The magical, addicting taste of his mouth on mine had my heart doing cartwheels and backflips in every memory and every moment. Even now. "Yeah...well, I hate how you make me feel," I huffed childishly in an attempt to redeem myself. "I hate how much I'm drawn to you. How much you make me feel so alive and free. I hate how much I want you—how much I think about you —how much I..." "You...?" Lazareth's voice softened. His grip on my wrists loosened and he let me step back to breathe. "You what?" "Nothing." I shook my head briskly, my face flushed and burning in embarrassment. "I—Nothing. Forget about that...all of it..." "I don't want to forget," Lazareth replied, tipping my chin upwards. He moved closer to me, wrapping his arm gently around my waist. "I want to hear more...tell me more..." "Later," I said. My heart was practically thrashing in my chest and my stomach was in more than one knot. I needed to get everything on my chest out before I told him more. "Why later?" He asked, his lips brushing tenderly against my earlobe. "Why not now?" "I—The contract," I managed through shaky breaths. "The one you sent me on my graduation day..." "Did you sign it?" He suddenly sounded worried, or maybe desperate? I couldn't tell. His pupils widened and his lips faltered as they made a path down my neck. "What? No, why? I wanted to ask you about it before I did," I said, cocking my head to the side. Be it to give him more access to my neck or in confusion, I had

no idea. It didn't matter, though. Lazareth stepped away from my hot and bothered body, his Adam's apple bobbing flusteredly. "It's...well...I..." he sighed in defeat, hanging his head. "Maybe it'd be easier if I show you? I'm not sure...I've never done this...I—fuck!" "It's okay," I murmured, wanting to reach out to him as I had done to Gryffin. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere until I get answers." A ghost of a smile ed over Lazareth's lips. "I knew you would say that," he said. "But if I show you...It'll ruin your life forever, Adrienne." "No, you won't," I said. I crossed my arms over my chest. "C'mon, Lazareth. I don't have all night, and neither do you. You don't have to be so over-dramatic about it." "Oh, I do," he said firmly, pacing around his office. "I dragged you into this...fuck, I didn't think you'd last...fucking shit...now what...?" He seemed to be talking to himself as he strode around the room. His hands were clasped all business-like behind his back and he had taken his suit jacket off, giving me a very rewarding view of the top part of his muscled, glistening chest. "Alright," he decided, at last, walking towards me. He took my hands in his. "But please, promise me you won't run away or scream? I...I really don't want to fuck this up...not with you." "You won't," I said, smiling reassuringly, although inside, I had no idea what he was talking about. It was just a contract. Why did he have to get so anxious over talking over that? "Okay," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay, you can do this, Noir. You got this." Internally, I chuckled. He sounded like me when I used to give myself pep-talks before class presentations. "Can I kiss you?" He asked suddenly. I blinked. "What?"

"Can I kiss you?" He repeated slower, pronouncing each syllable sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, looping my arms around his neck. "Do you even have to ask?" A sinister, handsome grin pulled on Lazareth's mouth, and he leaned in, closing his lips around mine. He moved quickly, pressing my abdomen against his. I too pulled him closer to me, relishing the irony taste in my mouth when he tugged on my bottom lip. His teeth felt abnormally sharp this time, though, but it didn't bother me. In fact, coils of pleasure from his bite slithered around my body. Taking initiative, Lazareth took a page out of Cinema 101. He shoved the papers and books on his desk and set me on the top, continuing to kiss me vigorously. Our mouths moved together like a dance. My legs wrapped around his hips, his hand fisting my hair. It was everything I dreamed of in a kiss with a billionaire. Until a bright light blinded me. Lazareth broke away from me, allowing the light to slam harder against my eyes. It felt like I was seeing a solar eclipse and an in-person view of the sun all at once. Just as quickly as it came, though, it disappeared. I opened my eyes quickly, searching for Lazareth, wanting him back again. And I found him. Only, it wasn't exactly him. In front of me stood a tall, muscular man with light, baby purple skin, and a light, neon green stubble. His ears were pointed like an elf and two of his incisors were pointy, like a vampire's fangs. I guess they were fangs. His eyes were a dark black—like, everything about his eyes was black. The entire pocket. His hair was wavy and dark, two horns jutting from his head. He wasn't wearing a shirt, revealing a lean, muscular chest and the beginnings of his V. Every bare skin I could see, black veins trickled underneath his purple surface. "Who...Who..." I wasn't sure whether I should run, scream, or stay put. The man eyeballed me carefully, his chest heaving. "I-It's still me, Adrienne," he said, taking a step towards me. "It's Lazareth.

Lazareth Noir. I-I'm just..." "Just what?" I asked, tugging my shirt up to my chest. He sounded like Lazareth, that's for sure. But how could I be sure it was actually him? "Just..." he sighed. "Well, there's no easy way to put it." His lips pressed in a thin line and he took another step closer to me. "Adrienne, I'm a demon."

Chapter 18

I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. From head to toe, I felt paralyzed, and maybe Lazareth was the one doing it. I wasn't too sure. My mouth was as dry as the Sahara Desert and inside, I felt my heart grow cold, a thick layer surrounding it like ice, keeping it from breaking in half. Actually, forget halves. My heartfelt like it had been shattered into a million pieces. All this time...all that wasted energy...Gryffin and Kath were right—what was I thinking? I could feel Lazareth looking at me, waiting for my reaction, but I wasn't sure what exactly I should be doing. Did he expect me to run into his open arms like some damsel in distress, pleading for my life? Or was he hoping that I would react as though seeing your lover turn into a demon was just your every Friday night? I've been such a fool, I thought bitterly, finding some strength to wrap my numb arms around my chest. Just moments ago, I would have wished for Lazareth to be the one to comfort me, but now, I realized that it was useless. I was alone in this world, with people only wanting to use me—manipulate me into playing their sick and demented games. "Adrienne, I—!" "No!" I snapped, interrupting him before he could finish. I was clenching my jaw so tightly I was positive that I had felt one of my back teeth crack. Stomping on the leaps in my stomach, I brought my eyes up to meet Lazareth's, hoping he could feel, or see, the pain and anger I felt bubbling like lava inside me. "No, Lazareth, I've listened to you long enough." Squeezing my arms, my chest shakily rose up and down, and if we were outside in the rain, I would've made a mental note to check off the theatrical "desperate moment in the rain" box. "I haven't been able to say anything yet!" He defended. He took a step closer to me, and I took a step back. "Adrienne, please, I won't hurt you!"

"Yeah? Well, guess what? You already did," I clipped. My voice cracked from the tears that pushed inside me, like a huge tsunami pounding against the barriers of a wall. His pointy ears flopped and somehow, his dark eyes seemed to dull, despite their obsidian color, which was so dark I could see my own reflection. "I never meant to hurt you," he hissed. "But if I had shown you my true form earlier, you would have been in a mental hospital, and I didn't want that to happen to you, Adrienne." "But you still lied to me," I said, trembling. Droplets of salty liquid trickled down my pasty cheeks, and I saw Lazareth's hand twitch, as though he wanted to reach towards me and wipe my tears away. In all honesty, I wanted him to hold me. I wanted him to take me and kiss me and make everything go away—assure me that this was only a dream—a nightmare. "I know, and I'm sorry," he said. "But I couldn't have you ending up in a mental hospital, Adrienne! I couldn't! I understand your anger...your hurt, and I'm sorry that I've disappointed you, but..." he paused, furiously running a clawed hand through a mop of dark hair above his head—an ocean of wavy black locks. "Can we please just go to my place and talk this over? I can better explain...this to you after we've both calmed down." He gestured to his...other form, quirking his lip into a half-smile, causing his dimples to pop. Don't do it, I thought, steering my gaze towards the windows overlooking the massive New York skyline. Don't give in to his big eyes and cute dimples, Adrienne! "Alright," I grumbled, glaring at him. "But this better be worth my time, Lazareth." Immediately, his adorable ears poked up and he nodded his head, almost reaching out to take my arm, but stopping short, frowning. "Of course," he murmured. "Follow me." A dark, almost fiery black-light enveloped him, reverting him back to the normal, billionaire Lazareth with pale skin, black eyes, and regular human ears. The same Lazareth that kissed me so deeply, so intensely merely moments ago—

the Lazareth that had stolen my heart and held it so high that I almost didn't want to put the effort to try and take it back. Since Lazareth lived a block away from his penthouse, we ended up walking together quietly down the empty crosswalks and sidewalks, stealing glances at one another. My mind was in too much of a frenzy to speak, and I didn't want to talk to Lazareth at that moment. Anger, hurt, and confusion, all emotions that had once erupted in my stomach, smothered around my body and mind like thick cream. It coated me with its slick, slimy substance and refused to come off or go away without a fight. Clyde was already waiting at the front of Lazareth's door when we arrived. He glanced at me as we walked past, as if searching for any scratches or burn marks. When he came to the realization that there were none, he closed the door, momentarily catching my eyes before he was gone, doing only what Clyde would ever know. It must be boring to be a butler, I mused. I mean, doesn't Clyde get bored just waiting for Lazareth to make him do things? Doesn't he have a family? "He has a daughter," Lazareth spoke suddenly as if he had read my mind. "And a wife, but they don't live here." "Oh? Where do they live?" I asked, cautiously eyeing him as he popped the cork off a bottle of wine, pouring the blood-like liquid into two glasses. "In Ishytye," he replied, clearing his throat as he took a seat opposite me. He had taken his suit jacket off, unbuttoning two of his top buttons and rolling his sleeves up to his elbow. I bent my head to hide my blush, twiddling with my fingers. Damn, he looked hot, both in his demonic form and now... No! Bad Adrienne! I scolded myself, scowling. You have to be angry at him! Don't show him that you're fawning over him already! He'll take advantage of that...just like he's always done... "Where is...Ishytye? Am I saying that right?" I asked. He nodded. "Ishytye is in the demon realm. It's sort of a knock-off version of

Israel, where I was born." "You were born in Israel? Not Ishytye? Why?" Lazareth shrugged, pressing the glass of wine into my hands. "It doesn't matter...not right now, at least," he said. "Can we get over the demonic stuff first? Then I'll tell you about myself? Well, the other part of myself, at least." "Okay," I murmured, brushing my bangs out of my face. I twirled the stem of the glass, peering at the liquid. "What is this?" "Wine," Lazareth smirked, quirking his perfectly-shaped eyebrow. "It's not spiked if that's what you're wondering. I told you already—I don't want to hurt you at all." "And you think it's easy to believe that, don't you?" I scoffed, but also, I was parched. Lazareth didn't comment at my snide remark, but after a few seconds of watching him tantalizingly swallow every drop from his glass, I caved, finishing my share within moments. All the while, I felt his eyes on me, or rather, my throat. Did demons have a thing for throats? I thought that was a vampire's deal? "So," he sighed as I set my glass on the table. "What do you want to know?" I hummed. "What kind of demon are you?" He smiled. "I'm a lesser demon, actually, which was why I was allowed to live on Earth. I rule a small kingdom in hell. We're close to the border between heaven and hell, so even though I'm allowed to live on Earth, I do have to go back to hell to attend meetings and do persona checks to those entering heaven. You never know when some soul will try and trick the guards there." He leaned closer to me. "Trust me, they're very naive." Pulling away, I let a short giggle escape my lips, some of my anxiety burning like ash in my stomach. "You're a king?" "Yep!" He grinned. "You're in the presence of royalty. Lucky you." "Lucky me, indeed," I scoffed, knawing on my bottom lip. "Is that why you sent me the book?"

"What book?" "The book on demons and other mythical monsters? Were you trying to warn me? What were you doing?" I asked. Lazareth shrugged, pouring himself another glass of wine. "In a way, I guess I was warning you. I...there was something about you that drew me towards you, and it felt too dangerous. I thought...maybe if I scared you, maybe then I could have enough time to understand why I was feeling the way I was—the way I am." "Yeah, and ignoring my calls is going to help that," I snorted, rolling my eyes. Lazareth glared at me, and I grinned. "What? It was your fault." "Not really," he grumbled. "But I shouldn't have done that. I should have acted like an adult—not a child." "It's okay," I assured, even though something in my heart was telling me that it wasn't. That it had hurt me, a lot. "But I still feel like I'm not getting the full story. If you were a King in Hell, then why would you want to come to Earth? Did you get bored?" Lazareth was silent for a few moments, but soon, a rueful sigh left his lips and he set his glass down, leaning back against the couch. I studied him, waiting for him to answer while my stomach tightened the knots already present inside me. "I had a sister," he began slowly, softly, like an aged man recalling the day he fell in love and retelling the story to his grandchildren. "She was younger than me by a few years, but we were close, definitely closer than my brother and I were. As we grew up, she grew more attractive—trust me, she was quite the dumpling when she was younger..." he trailed off, running his eyes over me shamelessly. "Although now I can see where I got that infatuation for..." Pervert, I sneered, masking my disgust with a polite nod for him to continue. Comparing me to his sister. Gross! He cleared his throat. "Anyway, as we got older, more and more men in my father's kingdom coveted her attention. They wanted her—and not because she was nice, or kind, or selfless. No, they wanted her for her beauty...for her power, her richness...her fertility..." he scowled. "Female demons are very fertile.

Especially royals. Everyone wanted her for their own pleasure. Nobody wanted her for who she was. But they kept a distance because of me. I always assumed that they were afraid of me. Sometimes, she hated it, especially when she liked someone." He laughed, but it wasn't a humorous laugh. It was distant, empty, cold. Like all the warmth had been snatched away from it. I frowned. "What happened?" Lazareth sat up, his head bent, his hands clenched. "One day, when I was around fifteen, I went with my father out of the kingdom to him for the royal meetings. I was heir to the throne—I had to know what it was like. I left Elizabeth—that's my sister's name—alone, and..." he scowled. His face began to ripple and his veins popped, just like when he shifted in his office. "Hey, hey, Easy..." I placated, resting my hand impulsively on his arm. Immediately, he stopped, jerking his head to the side to stop the transformation. Sighing, he took my hand in his—his touch warm like the early stages of a heater. "Thank you," he murmured. "She...she went out on her own one day...our youngest brother had gotten lost somehow...and this man...he was too old for her...he cornered her in an alleyway and..." he broke off, but I already knew what he meant, even if he had finished his sentence. "He didn't," I gaped. "He did." Lazareth scoffed bitterly, downing his wine like a drunkard. "He dared to touch her without her permission—to take her without consent. My father and I were livid when we arrived home. Luckily, she hadn't gotten pregnant with that bastard's child, but that didn't stop me." "What did you do?" "Well, I snuck out one night, taking a knife with me. I found the son of a bitch getting drunk in a bar downtown, and killed him." "...What?" I asked, unsure if I heard him correctly. "You heard me, Adrienne," he growled softly. "And you know I don't like repeating myself. Yes, I killed him. And for that, I got banished to Earth until I

got the blood of one who could fall in love with me. Until then, I'm not Sasha, King of Ishytye. I'm only Lazareth. Lazareth Noir with the cold, shriveled heart and loads of money. The billionaire everyone fears but wants to love." "I can't believe it..." I murmured, feeling my head suddenly starting to spin. "You killed him..." "I would do the same for you, too," he said staunchly. "I hate when men touch women without consent. It irks me—no, disgusts me when they do that." "Okay...so you killed your sister's rapist and got banished to Earth until you got the blood of someone who loved you..." Oh no...I can see where this is going. "I —um...what?!" "I know you have feelings for me, Adrienne," Lazareth murmured, taking my hand and enveloping his around it. "All I need is your blood. Then I'll be out of your hair." "Yeah, my blood," I snapped, emphasizing the "my". I stood, and Lazareth was quick to stand with me, looking ready to pounce if I tried to run. "I'm not giving you my blood, Lazareth! And, in fact, you can go find someone else to give you your precious blood, cause I do not love you, and I most certainly am not going to see you again!" "Oh, if only it were so easy, Adrienne..." his voice took on a shivering, delicious turn, and I felt his lips brush my neck. How...how did he get behind me? "You're bound to me, Adrienne. There is nowhere for you to run without me. And FYI, I can sense your feelings." "Okay, so?" I struggled to contain the heat the bloomed everywhere Lazareth touched me. "How am I bound to you? Don't you need to bite me or something?" Again, he chuckled, running his hand down my neck and around the curve of my hips, settling there. "No, that's what werewolves do," he said. "Do you the phone I gave you?" "Yes?" "And the logo?"

"Yes?" "Check your hand." Frowning, I did what I was told, just like I had always done. Turning my palm over, it felt as though something was sizzling into my skin, like a brand or something. But not just any brand... Lazareth's brand.

Chapter 19

"You did what?!" I burst at him, jerking my wrist away from his grasp. Fury bubbled in my stomach like a volcano ready to erupt. I took a step away from him, and this time, he didn't follow me. An angry crease slitted between Lazareth...or Sasha's eyebrows? Two identities, one man...God, what else would there be? Was he going to tell me that I was supper? He scowled. "First of all, no, I am not going to eat you for supper," he sneered. "Secondly, I did what I had to do to make sure that you were safe—!" "So, you were basically stalking me, is that it?" I snapped. "Or was it the phone that did the work for you?" "Both, I suppose you could say," he sighed, smoothing the lapels of his dressshirt arrogantly. "The phone was used to imprint on you, and the kiss we shared earlier? That was to put my scent around you. It warned other demons living on Earth to stay the fuck away from you." He scoffed. "Maybe I should have let them come get you, just like your lovely friend." "Michael..." my heart thrummed frantically in my chest and something cold crept up my back, like icicles, or the blade of a knife. I resisted the urge to flinch, though. I didn't want to show Lazareth that I was afraid of him. "Oh, right. I forgot that kid's name," Lazareth mused, sipping at his drink. "Really pleasant guy, you know? The first thing he did was aim a kick right for my balls. Almost made it too, if I hadn't scared the shit out of him first." "What did you do to him!" I cried angrily. Knocking his drink out of his hand, I stood up from the couch and grabbed Lazareth by the lapels of his shirt, dragging his amused face closer to mine. "Tell me, Lazareth! What did you do to Michael?!" "That's odd..." Lazareth stroked his chin slowly, a malicious grin spreading on his lips. "If I recall our last encounter with Mr. Keating correctly, you seemed more than happy to be running away from him and right into my arms, didn't

you, Adrienne?" "That doesn't answer my question," I growled, clenching my jaw and hoping my eyes were as steely as his once were. "What. Did. You. Do. To. Michael?" "I told him to get out of town," Lazareth said simply, folding his hands right underneath the buttons to my shirt. "I warned him that if he ever came in with you again, I would...well...I'd rather keep that part to myself, actually." "Oh, hell no," I shoved him back onto the couch, arrogant pride blooming in my chest at our height difference. I had the upper hand on him now—I felt it. "You've hidden more than enough from me, Lazareth. I want answers. And I want them now." "I thought we were done with the Q and A?" Lazareth huffed. I raised my eyebrow at him, cocking my hip to the side just like I had seen those cocky, badass women do in action movies Gryffin hid under the bed when we were teenagers. He sighed, scowling. "Fine, you want to know everything?" "Yes, I very much do," I retorted, still glaring at him. Standing from the couch, Lazareth walked towards me, continuing to walk until he had my knees bending back against the rim of his couch. Some of my confidence rippled at our proximity, and instead of the anger I once felt crackling inside of me, warmth bloomed at the bottom of my stomach, like a lotus opening its petals. His dark eyes pierced straight into mine, and it was like my life was flashing before my eyes, while at the same time, I couldn't see anything at all. His hands shot out from his sides, grasping my hips and holding me hard and steady. A slow, wicked grin curled at the edges of his mouth and he leaned closer to me. Around us, the atmosphere thickened, making it difficult for me to breathe. God, what was this man doing to me? Wasn't I just angry? W-What happened to that? Why can't I push him away? "Lazareth..." "I was a mistake," Lazareth growled, grazing my ear with his lips when I thought he was going to kiss me.

"What?" I snapped my eyes open. Pushing against his shoulder, I fought to meet Lazareth's eyes, however, I had a dreading feeling that they would only reflect emptiness and coldness the billionaire side of Lazareth I knew had. "The story I told you in the interview...it wasn't the full truth, okay? I was born from an Israeli immigrant who sold herself," he continued bitterly, dropping me onto the couch. I winced, about to yell at him again, but when I caught his quiet, dull eyes and the almost vulnerable position he sat in, I refrained myself. "Sold herself...like, sex worker?" I asked. He nodded. "Yes, she was a sex-worker. My father, a lesser demon, solicited her for so many nights that he said he couldn't imagine anyone else sleeping with her. He branded her just as I branded you, just without the phone, I suppose. She was desperate because she could have been deported, so she took a chance. They went back to his kingdom, got married, and had me and my siblings shortly after." "You have siblings?" I asked dumbly, even though he had told me before that he did. "Yes. My sister, Elizabeth, I already mentioned." He sighed. "And...Clyde. He's my younger brother." "Clyde?!" My eyes bugged out of my skull. "So...wait...Clyde? But you two look nothing alike!" The hard mask Lazareth was wearing melted a little when he chuckled, reaching for my hand. Silently, he rubbed his fingers very my knuckles, sighing. "Yes, Clyde is my brother," he itted. "When I was banished to Earth, Clyde followed me. It was a shocker, really. Clyde and I had butted heads...or, horns, I should perhaps say, when we were younger. A lot. It was...nice to know that at least someone in my family cared enough to come with me during my unfair punishment." "I'd bet that guy's family begs to differ," I grumbled, yet I squeezed his hand. "But I understand where you're coming from. It wasn't fair. You were retaliating

for your sister." Lazareth scoffed. "If only they could see what you could. My father loves me, I know he does. But he had to abide by the law. Prince or no prince, everyone is entitled to the law. I...I was legally bound...I had no choice." "Wait...so can you be deported?" I asked. "Yes, but as long as nobody knows I'm an illegal immigrant, then that probably won't happen," Lazareth replied, brushing aside my question briskly. He didn't seem to want to talk about his immigration, so I changed the subject. "Then how were you able to do...all of this?" I asked, gesturing to the grand splendor of the penthouse. Lazareth grinned. "One of my finest cons. Well, actually it wasn't much of a con. No, when Clyde and I made it to New York, we just so happened to be still in our princely attire. A man, the previous owner of Olympian Deals, saw us and told us that he was looking to sell his company as it had gone bankrupt. At first, Clyde and I saw it as a place to live, but soon, we began to make investments and really built up the company into what you see today." "Really? All from scratch?" I asked. "Well, not completely. There were still some employees there. Most of them signed onto my idea of rebuilding Olympian Deals—it was called Glass Fountain at the time—because they needed the money. I'm thankful they stayed, though. Without them, I'm not sure where I would've gotten, or if Olympian Deals would have gone anywhere." "Yet you still yell at them?" "Only those who work for my father," he sighed. "Some followed me as well, just like Clyde, and they've been nothing but a pain in my ass. Trust me, though, I do not abuse any human workers." "Wow," I smirked at him, the rest of my anger digesting with my dinner. "You really are humble, aren't you?" He shrugged. "I try to be. I don't want to make the same foolish mistakes again."

"Your mistake wasn't because you were a Prince," I pointed out. "It was because you were a brother protecting his sister. You let your anger get the better of you that night, Laz." "Don't call me Laz," he seethed. "And yes, I know. You don't have to repeat it. You aren't my mother." I laughed, throwing my head back to accentuate my amusement. "Does your mother call you Laz?" I asked. He blushed, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "No. She calls me Sasha. She doesn't know about Lazareth." "Oh..." I stopped laughing. "Right...Sorry, that was insensitive." "Don't worry about it," he murmured, cupping my cheek. Carefully, he drew his thumb over the curve of my lips and around the plush, softness of my jaw. "Don't worry about it at all, Adrienne..." My breath hitched in my throat at the way he was looking at me. Something spiked in my stomach—something warm and fuzzy. A shiver slipped down my spine but as he leaned closer to me, as though to kiss me, I shook the teenage feelings away and gently pressed two of my fingers on his smooth lips, effectively stopping him. "What is it?" He asked, quizzically raising an eyebrow. "Is that all you have to say?" I questioned. "About...you? He frowned. "Yes? What else do you want to know about me?" "Oh, you know—you..." I really didn't know what else I wanted to know about him. He had laid the basics bare for me already. He had forcefully opened up despite not wanting to, and it was all...for me. For me to stay and not leave him alone...just like he had always been. Maybe a part of me was hoping that he would reaffirm his feelings for me. I mean—he never explicitly said that he loved me, but...could demons really love? And a demon prince? With me? I don't know...

"Can I know a little about you?" He asked, kissing my fingertips. Carefully, he pulled away from my touch, wrapping his stronger, much larger hands around mine. Sparks ignited as our skin touched and I looked at Lazareth, who smirked sheepishly. "Sorry. It happens when I'm excited," he mumbled. I grinned. So, it really was sparks that I felt whenever he touched. "It's okay," I replied, removing one hand from his grasp to smooth it along his firm jaw-line. "But, before I start, were you really stalking me?" Ruefully, he sighed. "Yes. I-It's not like I looked up a file on you or anything—I don't have that much power. Really...I wanted to make sure that you were safe. Demons are territorial creatures...we like to know that whatever we care about is safe and marked as our territory—hence the brand." "And...you used a phone to do that?" "Well—yes. Partly because it irked me that you were using a flip phone in the twenty-first century, and also to get the brand on your skin." He brushed the coiled tendrils of my hair off my neck, his fingers rippling with nerves as dark claws jutted from his human hands, drawing along my neck. "We used to mark our territory with a bite—usually on our mates." "Mates? I thought those were only for vampires and werewolves," I asked, just barely being able to conceal the shiver ing through my voice. "It's a worldwide term for soulmates," Lazareth explained. "Some can pick, others are preordained. It doesn't really matter, though." He shuffled on his seat like he was sitting on thorns. "So...what's your gig?" "Gig?" I chuckled. "Well, I can't say I really have a gig. I'm the middle child, the only girl. I studied creative writing in college. I got two parents—my bio dad left the family when my youngest brother, Vincent, was a baby. I grew-up with my step-dad" "Ouch." Lazareth winced. "That must hurt." "Not really," I shrugged. "He wasn't ready for a family, so I'm told. When I did

know him, he was an addict and ab. I didn't need a man like him in my life. He died shortly after leaving." "Is that why you and your brothers are so cautious about men?" Lazareth asked. "Because of your dad?" I nodded, toying with my clasped fingers. "Gryffin especially. He's the oldest, so he feels like some of that responsibility that Dad couldn't fulfill. He's been skeptical of every guy I've known and been with—hell, he was even skeptical of our stepdad, and he was, like, eight!" Lazareth gave a breathy chuckle. "Well, Miss. Walker, that's how men are," he said. "And for the record, I know that he doesn't like me. In fact, he despises me, deep down for taking his precious sister..." he smoothed his thumb over my lip. "Well, I don't feel sorry for him." A tentative smile formed on my mouth. "So...about the blood and getting back to hell?" "Oh, right!" Lazareth cleared his throat. "I need the blood of a woman who is truly in love with me. Like, not just a one-day thing. One who has the blood of a true sacrifice." "So...they have to make a huge sacrifice to you? Or for you?" I asked. "For me," Lazareth explained. "And it has to be grand. Like, fairy tale grand— don't fucking look at me like that! I wasn't the one who banished myself! If I had, I would've given myself the easiest comeback in the world!" I rolled my eyes. "Okay. What do you want me to do?" "I just told you. A true sacrifice. It'll take time, well, a lot of time, but..." he kissed me gently and briefly. "I want this to be with you, Adrienne. Nobody else. Maybe...my way of asking you wasn't the best..." "You stalked me, Lazareth," I pointed out dryly. He huffed, puffing his cheek. "Okay, it won't happen again," he grumbled. "But...will you give this a chance? Us, a chance?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to say yes immediately, but a sudden thought made me pause. If I did truly and breathtakingly fall in love with Lazareth and walk into a billionaire romance, then when he left, what would be in for me? I would be heartbroken...just like I've always been. Perhaps it's just supposed to be like that for me. The guys got what they wanted and left me...alone. Taking a deep breath, I looked back up at Lazareth, firmly capturing his dark orbs in mine. "On one condition," I said tightly. "Name it." "No sexual advances...unless I say so." "Deal."

Chapter 20

When Lazareth told me that he was a demon from hell, I didn't believe him at first. I mean, a demon from hell? Those only existed in storybooks and myths! There was no such thing as a demon...unless you believed in that stuff, I guess. It took him a few minutes, maybe longer, for Lazareth to convince me that I wasn't overdosing on my anti-anxiety pills. He was sweet and gentle about it though, which came as a surprise to me. Carefully, he walked me through his explanations like he was teaching a baby, tactically averting my attention from the fact that he fucking stalked me to his predicament and how I had to help him because he felt an attachment to me. I didn't think my life would get any harder by being bound to him until we found a way to lift his banishment... Clearly, I had missed the notion that he was from hell. Thanks to Lazareth's ingenious mind and his goddamned brand, I wasn't able to step foot into the hallway outside of Lazareth's door the night we spoke before an invisible forcefield pushed me back onto my ass, like some incredibly bouncy bubble. Somewhat sheepishly, Lazareth had added quietly in my ear that the brand wouldn't let me leave him until the banishment was lifted, which meant that I was stuck with Lazareth having to stay less than six feet away from me for who knows how long! That was a fucking awesome way to start my weekend, and it only got worse from there. Apart from my brothers, I had never lived with a man who wasn't related to me. Sometimes I shared a bed with visiting cousins who were too scared to sleep on their air mattresses on their own, but apart from that, sharing a house with my previous boyfriend's was never on the table. In fact, I don't think any of us brought it up during my short-lived relationships. We never delved past the first few stages, so maybe that's why.

I had only spent a week with Lazareth before I was ready to get his brand off my skin in any way possible. Give me a knife, wax—anything to get it off. It didn't help that the brand burned when it came into with water, something Lazareth said happened now that I knew the meaning of the mark, which was great. What else was he keeping himself from telling me? For a rich guy, I noticed, Lazareth sure had very little to fill up his penthouse. Most of the items on his walls and bookshelves were decorative pieces of artwork or certificates he had gotten (read: forged) for when colleagues or business associates visited his house. Fake plants took up the spaces at the corners of his rooms, all different types, and different shapes. They matched his black and grey aesthetic, though, but didn't serve very well as an eye-catching decoration. Apart from the fake plants and abstract paintings Lazareth kept lined perfectly against his wall, he seldom kept his things tidy. I felt sorry for Laura now, having to clean up after Lazareth like he was a child. His study room reminded me of a movie I once watched and two thieves broke into a man's office to look for a book. They completely trashed the workspace—throwing books on the ground and unclipping files, ignorant to whether or not the papers littered the ground. I didn't expect Lazareth to be so untidy, but then again, I didn't know as much about Lazareth as I thought I did. He had hidden so much from me in the few months I had known him, but I suppose that we both had hidden from each other. He had his reasons, and I had mine. His bedroom was no different from the other messy rooms. In the weeks that had ed since our fateful kiss, Lazareth's room had turned from hotel commercial clean to teenage puberty disordered, kind of like my room when I suffered through depression in high school. Old shirts and suits, all smelly and crinkled, covered the carpet floor like a rug and his sheets remained folded and wrinkly like he never bothered to change them or make the bed when he woke up. Okay, so maybe I was overreacting a little bit with the mess, but that wasn't the only thing bothering me (even though I had to wonder: why didn't Laura clean his rooms? Was it because it was his personal space?). Once it was agreed that Lazareth and I would live together until he found a way back to hell (or, I provided the blood sacrifice he needed to go back), it was like

a switch flicked in Lazareth's head. To him, it seemed, he had not only gotten himself a one-way ticket back to his kingdom—no, he had also (hypothetically) gotten himself a maid, a cook, and a woman to wait on him to wash his feet when he came home. Every day for the second week we lived together he spoke to me like I was a nuisance to him, always irritable and angry. He wasn't the same, amicable Lazareth who had squeezed his way to my heart and to my mouth. He didn't hold me with assurance anymore, not like he used to. His kisses were half-hearted and empty, lacking emotion. We didn't talk as much as we used to. The fluttery, teenage feeling of love was gone now, replaced by a dull void carving a bleak cave in my gut. He would come home, eat the dinner I made, drink some wine, then lock himself in his office for the rest of the night, doing who knows what in there. It reminded me of my father, or, what I of him. As per my mother, once they were married and Gryffin was born, my mother was degraded from wife to slave. And from the looks of things, I was heading down that exact path. This was a mistake, I thought one night as I was scrubbing the dishes. Bile rose in my throat, sticky and wet, and I shoved it back down. I shouldn't have agreed to this...I should have listened to my gut. Being with Lazareth was the wrong choice...I didn't listen when they told me...God damn it! I almost smashed a plate while putting it onto the drying rack in my embarrassment and anger. My hands burned with the desire to break something and tears welled up in my eyes, hot and moist. "I made a huge mistake," I croaked out loud, indifferent if Lazareth heard me or not. He wasn't home as far as I knew, but he had a way of opening the door so quietly you'd think he'd used magic or something to numb the sound. "I can't do this," I continued, slamming the tap shut and wiping my hands on the towel underneath the sink. I staggered to a nearby chair. "He's not the same anymore. Kath and Gryffin were right. He only needed someone to do his dirty work for him, that's all." A sudden thought popped into my mind, opening a pit of dread on my stomach. I reeled away from the sink, but my dinner propelled up my food pipe, floating in

what felt like chunks right by the entrance to my mouth...or maybe exit? "Is this my life now..." I thought, gaping at an invisible speck of dust on the granite table. "A slave for the demon prince? Someone he can use to get his work done at home...God, was that all I was used for? What if...what if he's having an affair!" The tears flowed hotly down my cheeks now and inaudible words bubbled out from my lips. Sobs racked my body and I so badly wished that Lazareth wasn't at work. I wished that he was home, with me, holding me just like he used to. Kissing me like he used to—working wonders with those smooth, perfect lips of his. I clenched my jaw so tightly I thought I heard a tooth crack. It angered me that I wanted him so badly. I knew I had promised myself to stay away from him. I told myself the day Professor Alvarez told me to interview him that nothing would happen between us. And yet, here I was, moping and heartbroken over the very same billionaire who I had been constantly warned to stay away from. Once again, I had let my heart take over from my brain and go down the wrong, dirty path. "That goddamned contract..." I choked between sobs, sniffling. "Why! What did I do?! Why am I being punished?! I was a good kid. I behaved in school. I got good grades! Why do you have to punish me, God?! I-please, what did I do wrong? What did I do wrong?!" I broke down in my hands. I couldn't stop crying. The waterworks just kept chugging round after around. Tears flowed like rivers on my pale cheeks, staining them with a dark red color. Some of the salty droplets landed on Lazareth's mark, causing a searing burn to course through my veins like I was being branded with hot metal. That only made me cry harder, though. My chest heaved and my arms trembled. Panic erupted in me, pinching every nerve and soft spot of my body like I had multiple funny bones. "Adrienne?" A soft, gentle voice whispered in question. Lazareth. "Nothing." I wiped my tears, glaring at him from under my unruly locks of hair. "Go away, Lazareth." He scoffed, setting what sounded like his backpack next to my chair. The

keychains and books clinked against the metal leg of the stool and Lazareth's cool hand slid up to my cheek, wiping my tears. Briskly, I brushed his hand away. "What did I do?" He asked, unrelenting. He tipped my chin up and our eyes met: fire against ice, or maybe the other way around. "You know what you did," I sneered, tilting my head out of his grasp. "And now you wanna talk about it? Well, guess what? You had your time to talk." "No, I don't know what I did?" He frowned. "What are you talking about, Adrienne?" "Ignoring me!" I burst, standing hastily from my chair. One after another, words escaped my lips like cannons bursting. "You've treated me like shit, Lazareth, and you know it! All you've ever done since we began living together has been making my life miserable! I'm not your slave! This isn't what I signed up for—I actually didn't sign up for anything!" I felt my tears coming back now, rising like a tsunami in my chest, but I let them come. I was tired of holding them in for Lazareth's sake. "Where's the man who held me that day when Mike touched me, assuring me that he'd always be there for me? Where's the Lazareth who wanted to keep kissing me—who wanted me to be with him? I want that Lazareth back. I don't know if I can keep doing this if you keep treating me like garbage, Lazareth! I keep thinking that I made a mistake of trusting you—I never should have trusted you at all!" I broke off into garbled nonsense, sobbing all over again. Lazareth continued to look at me silently, his bottom lip drawn tantalizingly between his perfect white teeth. The air around us was suffocating and tense, like two large hands wrapped around the both of us, squeezing our bodies together tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Yeah? Well, sorry doesn't cut it," I snapped, wiping roughly at my eyes. When my vision cleared and I was able to gather enough strength to look up at Lazareth, an orange and white medicine bottle caught my eye. "What is that?" I asked between hiccups. "Your medicine," Lazareth replied quietly. "I got it from Kathryn earlier today.

You didn't tell me you had anxiety, Adrienne." "Of course! I'm so sorry," I laughed cynically. "I didn't realize I should be telling you all my medical problems during the first meeting. Would you like to know about my depression and suicidal phases too? Or the fact that my dad abused me so vividly as a child that he practically dumped me into the anxiety bin?" "I didn't mean it like that, Adrienne," Lazareth chastised softly, hesitating for a moment before wiping my eyes again. "I-I didn't know about your father...I...Kathryn caught me at the supermarket and I told her you would be staying with me for a while. She brought me to your house and your brother gave me your medicine." He sighed, running a weary hand through his unruly hair. "I'm so deeply sorry, Adrienne. I didn't mean to hurt you as I did...I didn't think my actions came off as insensitive..." "Well, they did," I said tartly, but I felt myself melt at his touch. Being angry was exhausting, both physically and mentally. "Why did you treat me so horribly, Lazareth? Do you know how much it hurt? Trusting someone only to have them use you?" "I never meant to seem like I was using you, Adrienne," Lazareth murmured. He held my hands in his, squeezing them gently. "I was...stressed, but that really is no excuse to treating you the way I did. I...I don't like seeing you cry, and I hate that I'm the one who caused it. I...I care for you deeply, Adrienne. I only want to love you. I never wanted to hurt you..." "I can understand acting out during stress," I sighed. "And yes, it did hurt, a lot, Laz. I thought this was what you wanted—a maid, a slave. I thought you feigned loving me to get me bound to you...and it hurt...so fucking bad." "I'm so, so sorry," he repeated, over and over, like a plea, a prayer. "I want to love you, not hurt you. But now, I realize I'll have to change my ways to do so...starting with cleaning and helping around the house...fuck, I'm so sorry. I...shit, you don't deserve this..." "I'll forgive you this time," I itted after a while. "You were stressed. I've been in your shoes before when it comes to stress. I have acted out and left my room a mess, but if we want to get you back home, we have to work together, not separately."

Lazareth nodded eagerly. "Yes, definitely. I'll start cleaning and helping you around the house. I promise from the soils of hell and back, Adrienne, I won't hurt you like that ever again! I can't even dream of hurting you..." A tight smile pulled at the corners of my lips. "I know," I said. "Well, I know now, at least. I'm glad you're willing to work on this now, but..." I raised my eyebrow. "What were you so stressed about that made you treat me like a piece of shit?" He kissed me, slow and sweet, wiping away the salt left from my tears. It took me a few moments to respond to him—something strong pulling me back. He apologized, I thought. He said it won't happen again, right? It was from stress. I know how that feels—I've done that before...acted out and stayed alone...I trust him... "Something," he finally responded, kissing me again, stone walls of anger and frustration crumbling from around the both of us—nights filled with stress and fury finally washing away... If only I knew what something was.

Chapter 21

"How do you like your coffee?" I asked, opening one of the cabinets above me to reach the pot of sugar Laura kept there. "Black," Lazareth replied distantly. He flicked through the pages of the newspaper, tugging at his bottom lip as he read through the articles in the sports section. At least, it looked like the sports section from the angle I was looking at it. "Like your eyes?" I teased, stirring his drink. I slid the sugar bowl closer to my tea and tested the temperature of his coffee on my wrist, just like my mother used to do for Vincent when he drank from the bottle. "No, like my heart," he said, setting the newspaper down with a soft slam. The paper crinkled underneath his pens and binders, objects he had blatantly refused to clean up in order not to forget them for his meeting the next day. For a billionaire, he sure does have a lot of free time, I thought to myself, quietly fixing a plate of toast and jam. I set his food on the table in front of him and he looked up at me, smiling. "You didn't have to make breakfast. I could've done that while you were sleeping," he said, reaching for my hand and kissing my pulse. I shrugged. "I wanted to. I don't like sitting around and doing nothing." Then, I smirked. "But since you were so generous enough as to offer, you can make breakfast tomorrow before you go to work." "That'll do," he murmured breathily, kissing my hand once again before releasing me to dig into his food. "What do you like to eat?" "Food," I scoffed, chuckling when Lazareth gave me a deadpan stare. "I don't really care what you make, Laz. Anything'll do. Coming from a Japanese and French family will do that to you."

"So, I've heard," he grumbled, sipping his coffee. "And don't call me Laz." I rolled my eyes, turning back to my plate. "Whatever you say, Lazareth," I said, spreading butter on my toast and adding a spoonful of sugar into my tea. The milk powder and sugar blended into a light creamy color, almost like the color of one of Lazareth's many cars. "This is good," Lazareth sighed, drinking the last of his tea until he was holding his head back for the drops. "How did you make this?" "Like anyone else does?" I leaned against the counter, taking my mug in both hands and bringing it up to my lips, sipping gently. "I just followed the instructions Laura left for me on the fridge." "Laura doesn't believe that I can make my own coffee," Lazareth scowled. "I can most certainly make my own coffee if I wanted to. It just...doesn't taste as good." I threw my head back in a loud laugh that decompressed my heavy chest. "So, it's good she left instructions," I said. He didn't reply, turning back to his food, and I reached for the medicine capsule that I had taken out earlier in the morning. Carefully, I made sure that Lazareth wasn't looking before taking two more pills out of my pocket and swallowing them dry. He looked up just as I was finishing the rest of my tea to drown the bitter taste the outer plastic of the capsule left. "Did you take your medicine?" He asked, rising from his chair with his plate and mug. Right on time, I thought, relieved. My chest felt lighter and the sweat that once bloomed on my palms evaporated quickly. "Yes, I just took them." "Good." Placing his dishes gently in the sink, Lazareth cornered me against the triangular crevice of the countertop. His eyes burned into mine, a familiar flame igniting in his eyes. I set my mug down on the tabletop beside me and his hand slid up my arm, cupping my cheek. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look this morning?" He whispered, despite it being only the two of us in the room.

"You always tell me," I murmured. I hardly felt my lips moving. "But did I tell you today?" He repeated, his eyelashes fluttering ever so slightly. "No..." I itted hesitantly, toying with my fingers underneath his gaze. He made a tsking sound in the back of his throat, a wicked smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "What a shame," he mused. "If I don't keep you sated, Adrienne, some other young man will come and take you with him. And that would make me very angry if he did." "Who says I'll let him take me?" I asked coyly, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him down slightly. "I thought I was bound to you?" A breathy chuckle left Lazareth's shy lips and he leaned closer to me, tilting his head. "That you are. And you don't make it any easier." "What fun would that be?" I scoffed, dragging my thumb over his lip. If he wanted to play the teasing game this early in the morning, right after his coffee (which I came to find out made his body act similar to that of alcohol), then I would play, but we would play by my rules. "You put up a hard bargain, Adrienne," Lazareth murmured. He didn't let me say anything back to him, which was a shame, because I had a good, witty comeback to whatever it is he was about to say. His lips crashed onto mine, firm and ionate. We moved together and I gripped his thick biceps, relishing the groan that made its way out of his parted mouth. His hand dragged down my neck, tugging gently at my nightshirt before dropping to my hips. He held me against him, as though I were to float away should he let go. I felt like my heart was on fire, burning and spreading its wispy flames throughout my body, igniting a ion I didn't know had been sitting in my stomach this entire time. I suddenly felt dizzy. The world was spinning around me. "Adrienne..." my name left his lips like he was a pleading, wanting man. It made me feel powerful like I was a puppet master and he was hanging with no control on my strings. We broke away from each other after a few moments of floating on air and

having fire wipe us out entirely. As our foreheads rested against one another, panting, a cold wave of reality and peace struck us. Silence filled the room and beside me, I felt liquid pooling underneath my palm. "Oh!" I jumped away from Lazareth, knocking the tipped mug into the sink. The tea that had been creating a puddle underneath my hand flowed over the counter like a wispy waterfall. "Oh, shit," Lazareth hissed, reaching for a washcloth. I took it from him and dampened the fabric under the rush of the tap water, wiping my hand and the countertop quickly. "Sorry about that," I said, tossing the rag into the tub. "I didn't see where I was putting my hand." "It's okay," Lazareth sighed, combing his unruly hair with his clawed fingertips. "It was my fault too. I didn't think before acting. I'm sorry." "Don't be," I assured, placing my palms softly on his chest. "It was an accident, after all. I don't want you to take back the kiss because of a spill." "I never said I was," Lazareth laughed, bringing his hand down from his hair as his claws receded back into his skin. His veins moved around in his hand as worms do in the dirt and he gripped my hand. "Don't you have work today?" I asked, still trying to understand where exactly his claws went when he was in his human form. Did they just go into his skin? Or did they dissolve? "Not today. I took a day off to spend some time with you. I want to start fresh. I don't want to leave you hanging...again." "You never left me hanging," I said. "Confused and angry, maybe, but not hanging. You gave me as much information as I needed, Lazareth. I couldn't ask for more than that." "You can ask for whatever you want," Lazareth murmured. "It'll be yours. Whatever you want." I scoffed, cleaning up the remains of the tea and mug. "If you say so," I said,

biting my bottom lip. I tightened my grip around the rough rag. "Um...Lazareth?" "Yes?" "I was thinking...do you the contract you gave me? Before we really started talking?" I asked. "Yeah, I ." He frowned, studying me with a crease in his brow. "Why?" My breath caught in my throat. "Well...I was thinking of actually taking the job...if you're okay with it?" I peeked up at him from under my bangs, and he just stared at me. I wasn't sure if it was an elated stare or a horrified one, but whatever it was, he stayed paralyzed for a few moments before finally responding to me. "You...want to work for me?" He asked, almost in a whisper. His words were so breathy it took me a few moments to understand what he was saying. Swallowing thickly, I nodded, bending my pointer finger until I felt it snap softly against my palm. "Yes. I do. I-I didn't feel like working in a place where I was almost violated...I don't know, it felt wrong. I-I can go apply someplace else if you don't want me to..." "No!" Immediately, Lazareth's arms jerked from his side and his hands held my shoulders, bunching them together tightly. "No, Adrienne. I would love nothing more than to go to work with you every morning. But is this what you want? You won't be uncomfortable?" I shook my head. "I trust you, Lazareth. Why would I be uncomfortable around you? I want to work with you because I want to learn more about you." "What do you mean? I can tell you everything that you want me to," Lazareth asked. "What do you want to know?" "I don't mean it like that," I giggled, shoving his chest playfully. "I meant in the sense of how you work as a businessman. I want to see the Lazareth Noir everyone else sees. Not what I see. Maybe then I can understand you more on a business level?"

"Ah, that makes more sense," Lazareth blushed. "Although, I must say, I'm not the most amicable man when I'm at my job." I fixed the hem of the loose cotton shirt he wore, inadvertently brushing my hands against the dips and wavy lines of his muscles. My heart thrummed in my chest, still coming off a haze of ion, and I cleared my throat. "I'll see what I can do to help you on that," I said, pecking his lips. "You won't change to me, Lazareth. You'll always be the same sweet, wonderful Lazareth I know. Nothing can change my mind." "You definitely weren't saying that a couple of nights ago," Lazareth stated softly, a dark shadow suddenly casting over his eyes. "I wasn't, but that's the past. You can only learn from it," I agreed. "I don't dwell on the past, Lazareth. At least, not as much as I used to. I focus on the future, and what I have to look forward to." "I suppose..." he grumbled. Smirking, I put both of my palms on either side of his cheek, standing on my toes so I could press my lips to his. He reciprocated almost immediately, smashing his mouth onto mine with a vigor only he could have after coming down from a fire wave of a kiss. Dizzy spells racked my body and my head began to spin, but I ignored the airy feeling of losing consciousness. Taking a new bottle of medicine always resulted in dizziness and a woozy sort of feeling. It didn't scare or worry me anymore. "What can I even do at your company?" I asked once we broke away from one another. "I mean...you work in real-estate and retail. What can I do there? I don't have a degree for business." He grinned. "You may not, but you do have a degree in writing, don't you? You can write and edit articles for us." "You have articles? Since when?" "Since always," Lazareth beamed, kissing my forehead languidly. "So...do we have a deal?"

A sly smirk curved its way onto my lips. "You got a deal...Laz." "Don't call me Laz!"

Chapter 22

"Ugh," I groaned, blindly reaching up above my head to push the sticky strands of hair out of my face. My eyes felt glued together and every muscle in my body felt as though they were sore and stiff. In my chest, my heart thrummed at a normal, if not, slow pace, and sweat bloomed on my palms. Beside me, a deep, masculine groan left what I thought was a large body pillow and moved slightly under the covers. The paced thrumming of my heart increased to a loud, bashing sprint and I froze, my mouth remaining open even as the yawn that once shoved against my chest left my lips. I willed every limb in my body to still as the cover slipped off the body of the man beside me, revealing Lazareth's adorable, sleeping face. A soft exhale left my lips and I covered my heart daintily with my hand, just like Disney princesses did when they were relieved. It was only Lazareth. I didn't get drunk somehow and have a one-night stand, thankfully, although I never did have one. Lazareth looked less menacing when he was asleep. His delicate, soft lips pulled into a childish pout. His eyelids were closed gently, veiling his hard, wicked eyes that haunted me in my sleep. He slept shirtless, displaying sculpted muscles on pale skin. The pants he wore were loose and soft, decorated with checkered patterns of red, blue, and black. He had longer hair than I expected him to—a thick blackish-blonde duvet that spilled across his pillow and curled at the tips like tentacles. It made him look boyish—like a prince from a 90's movie. Quit staring at him, Adrienne! I scolded internally, something I found myself doing more often ever since Lazareth came into my life. It's rude to look at someone when they're sleeping. Wake him up and get answers...right! Hesitating momentarily, I poked Lazareth with my pointer finger when an

undignified snort left his slightly ajar mouth. Immediately, he jerked up into a sitting position like he was prepared to do so. His eyes were alert and wide, and in the morning sun, resembled a kaleidoscope. He looked around the room, a frown curling on the edges of his lips before he caught sight of me. The hardness of his eyes softened instantly and the frown on his mouth morphed into a wonderful, adoring smile. "Good morning," he sighed, bending down to kiss me. "G'morning," I murmured, accepting his quick kiss. His lips tasted salty, like the ocean. "How did you sleep?" He asked, grunting as he elbowed himself into a sitting position. The blanket slid off his body and rested on his lap, giving me a marvelous view of his abs. I blushed. "Well, but I actually don't us sleeping together..." "I don't either..." Lazareth trailed off, raising his bulky arms above his head to stretch. "Not that it matters, anyway. I don't mind sleeping with you." "It's not what we did that bothers me, Lazareth," I said, surveying his body to see if I could place my hand on his arm without making myself look weird. "It's how we got here that does." He shrugged. "I didn't do it if that's what you're implying. I am not one to take advantage of a woman—you know that very well." "I do," I mumbled, thinking about his poor sister. Carefully, I put my hand on his arm as he let it down from his stretching position. "But then who did? We didn't just sleepwalk next to each other." "It could've been Laura," Lazareth said. "I you slept on the couch while doing work, and there's no way I could've brought you to your room because I also fell asleep in my office." "You're probably right, then," I agreed. "But, damn! Laura's that strong to carry

both of us?" "I'd bet she dragged me," Lazareth stated dryly. "But she could've easily carried you. Both of her sons are bodybuilders and her husband used to be a professional wrestler before becoming a cop." "Remind me never to get into a fight with her," I chuckled, getting comfortable against his smooth, curvy body. He beamed, curling an arm around my waist. "I learned that the hard way, trust me." He paused. "That's actually how Laura and I met." "Really?" I peered up at him. "From a fight?" "Sort of," he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Clyde and I were still new to New York and with the little money we had, we decided to go to a bar. Safe to say, we got drunk and I picked the wrong fight with the bartender—well, Laura. We fought, and I got my ass whooped back to hell." A torrent of giggles left my mouth at the scowl Lazareth made as he recounted his embarrassing defeat. He glared at me, his mouth ajar, but it only made me laugh harder at how stupid he looked. "You got your ass whooped by a girl!" I choked, throwing myself back on the pillows in my rambunctious laughter. "I did. You don't have to rub it in," he grumbled, chewing on the inside of his cheek in an attempt to control the smile tugging his lips. "Oh, I had to," I differed, reaching up to smother his bedhead. I kissed him, letting the taste of sea salt melt on my tongue before I pulled away to meet his dizzy expression. "But you'll always be the winner to me, no matter what Laura can say...even though you rightfully deserved to get beaten." "It doesn't matter anymore," Lazareth mumbled, holding me tightly against him and burying his face into my hair. "You me. That's all I need." "Yeah..." I sighed, his hold on me delicate and comfortable. "Lazareth?" "Yes?"

I pulled away from him to look deep into his eyes, a cavern of pitch-black gazing back at me. I needed to ask him now, or else I may not ever get the chance to ask him this again. "Why did you pick me?" I whispered hoarsely, my voice barely audible from either the laughter or the seriousness of the question—I wasn't sure. Lazareth's eyebrows furrowed and he stopped laughing. "What do you mean? Pick you for what?" "This." I waved my hands comically between us. "Why, out of all the other girls, did you pick me? I'm not special, Lazareth. I have no magical powers—not like you do." "Okay, first of all, I don't have magical powers," Lazareth deadpanned, making invisible quotations in the air. "Secondly, you may not have powers, Adrienne, but you're a remarkable young woman. You're intelligent, beautiful, independent. You don't need a man in your life, Adrienne—you don't need me. You're capable of doing so much on your own. That's why I chose you." "But how did you know all that about me?" I asked, cocking my head to the side, stomping on the bloom of excitement that burst in my stomach, I bit my lip, attempting to suppress my emotions. "That wasn't what you wanted, Lazareth. You wanted something else. What was it?" Lazareth shuffled underneath me, queasily looking towards the door, then back at my expectant expression. "You were submissive," he whispered. I blinked. "I was what?" I asked. "Submissive," he repeated forcefully, as though it pained for him to say it. "When I first met you, you were so shy and innocent. You hardly looked me in the eye and cowered when I spoke. I thought you'd be an easy target, but..." "But what?" I asked, surprisingly not angry with him. Submissive wasn't exactly a term I was pleased to hear about myself. I considered myself to be a competitive being, not submissive, and especially not to a man. Liking a man who dominates in the bedroom and being submissive are two different things. "I got caught up in the chase," Lazareth itted, a shy grin on his lips. "You

were so intriguing and funny—I saw less of the submissive woman and more of the assertive, strong woman I see in you now. You became my addiction, Adrienne—hell, you are my addiction. I don't think that's ever going to change." "I'd hope not..." I murmured, despite a part of me wondering about what would happen once we got Lazareth home. He'd be gone, and we'd be separated from one another. What would happen then? He would probably find someone else, and me...I would be alone once again...just like I always was. "What are you thinking about?" He asked, kissing the shell of my ear. "You aren't angry with me, I hope? I had no intention of disrespecting you, Adrienne, if I did..." "No! Not at all!" I assured, kissing him to ease his worries away. "No, Lazareth, you didn't offend me. I was confused at the submissive part—I'm not one to like that terminology, but I understand what you were going for. You wanted an easy way back to your home and your family. I can't blame you for that." "I did," he agreed, running his clawed fingers through my hair, something he and I both knew I secretly enjoyed. "But I love you, Adrienne. I don't see any of that now. I don't care what anyone else says . Yes, I am a billionaire. Yes, I do love you. Nothing can change how I feel—ever." "I know...I... like you too," I itted shyly. "Thank you for being honest with me, Laz. I really appreciate you." "I despise lying to you," Lazareth murmured, stroking me. "And don't call me Laz." I laughed. "I got it, I got it," I digressed, even though I knew I would be calling him by my nickname more often than he'd like. I lay against him, both of us silent. The atmosphere wasn't as thick as it used to be. In fact, it was much more breathable than before, like the tension had disappeared. He combed my hair with his fingers. I traced dainty paths down his stomach, dangerously close to his abdominal region, but never going too far. If you had told me months ago that I'd be lying in bed in my pajamas with the richest man in the world shirtless beside me, I would've told you that you were crazy. I mean—falling in love with Lazareth was never part of my plans. All my

life, I told myself that I'd stay away from the billionaire world. I promised myself that I wouldn't get tangled up with any of them, no matter how attractive or how convincing they could be. Clearly, teenage me knew nothing about the likes of Lazareth. I couldn't distinctly when I began to catch feelings for Lazareth— maybe it was from the beginning, but my whole relationship with him has been a rollercoaster ride, and I don't even like rollercoasters! Well, I suppose I do, now, I thought, giggling to myself. "Excuse me?" Clyde's deep voice vibrated through the door, breaking Lazareth and me from our relaxing morning spell. Lazareth's chest rumbled with an annoyed groan. "Yes?" He replied. Clyde poked his head through the door, a careful smirk gracing his features as he strode in the room, carrying a brown box underneath his arm. "Good morning," he said, nodding to me. I beamed. "Good morning, Clyde!" I chirped. He grinned, turning back to Lazareth, who was glaring daggers at him. He cleared his throat. "I have a package for Miss. Walker." "Who is it from?" Lazareth snapped. "Michael Keating," Clyde answered immediately. "Mike?" I asked, bolting upright in the bed. I regarded the package Clyde was holding with more interest, unsure if my heart was racing with anticipation or fear. "What is it?" "I don't know," he said. "I was just told to give it to you." "It doesn't matter what it is," Lazareth said tartly as Clyde left, watching me as I observed the box in my hands. It wasn't very heavy—in fact, it was pretty light. "It's dangerous if it's coming from that son of a bitch. Don't you dare open it,

okay, Adrienne?" "Mhm," I mumbled, halfheartedly listening to him. It didn't matter what he told me to do or not do. My curiosity wouldn't be sated until I knew what Mike sent, even if it scared me to know. It couldn't be that bad, though, unless he decided to take things further and send a bomb (although that probably wouldn't have gotten past Lazareth's detailed security). Once Lazareth was in the shower, I ripped the packaging open, indifferent to whether or not the box was shredding and making dust over the bed. Inside, sitting on a bundle of cotton balls, was a middle school picture of Michael and me, back when I had braces and he fashioned his hair like a boy in the 1600s. We held each other's hands, smiling brightly at the camera. My heart pinched a little—a part of me wishing that I had the old Michael back—the one who used to be my best friend. Beside the picture was a note, which, apart from a phone number, had two words scribbled underneath in an almost dry pen. I'm sorry.

Chapter 23

"Hey, Lazareth?" "Yes?" From where he was packing papers into his backpack, Lazareth's eyes snapped up to mine. "What is it?" "Do you when I went to visit my mother?" I asked, leaning back against the counter as I sipped my tea. "In Rome?" "Yes." "Yeah, I ," he said. He clipped a stack of sheets together, still looking at me. "Why?" "Well, when I came back, Vincent said this book had been sent from you," I explained, sliding the coarse, antique-looking book across the counter. Lazareth's eyes visibly widened as he stopped the book from sliding onto the ground. Picking it up, he thumbed over the pages like he was starstruck. "Why did you give this to me?" I asked. "I felt myself getting too attached to you," he mumbled. "I didn't want to get close to someone who I thought deserved better. I figured that if I could scare you away with these texts, then my feelings for you would go away." Scoffing, he shut the book, handing it to me. "I'm glad it didn't work." "Momentarily, it did," I chuckled, paging through the many sheets of cursive script. "I thought you were into some crazy cult or something when Vincent gave me this book. I wouldn't have gone to see you that night if Gryffin didn't encourage me to." "Encourage would be one way to put it," Lazareth muttered under his breath. He wiped his mouth with his hand as he gazed at me with his animalistic dark eyes.

"If you didn't come to visit me that night, I probably wouldn't have ever told you about my...other side, I suppose." "Other side is one way to put it," I mocked, placing my cup gently into the sink. I handed him his coat before he could reach for it, smiling. "Can you tell me what it says? All I really understand are a couple of paragraphs and the picture captions." Lazareth craned his neck to look at the clock behind me, the corners of his lips tugging upward. "I have some time before I have to go to work. I don't see why I can't show you a few things now." He took the book into his arms and led me towards the couch, waiting until I was seated next to him before flipping through the many ages. "This used to be my favorite when I was younger," he spoke suddenly, motioning to the picture of an ogre fighting what looked to be a human army. "We grew up learning that humans were savages, so I guess you could say this book was our security net. It taught us every spell and attack that could be fatal against humans." "Was it supposed to protect you? From us?" I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. Peering over his shoulder, I caught a better view of the large, fierce ogre, except he looked less monster-like and more like the hero in a fairy-tale. He had a beautifully chiseled body and a clean row of teeth. An unruly mop of hair curled along his forehead and in the picture, he was portrayed as a heroic figure, fighting the villains trying to hurt him. "It was," Lazareth murmured, a small grunt leaving his lips as he popped his elbow from underneath his other arm. He then wrapped his free arm around me, tucking me gently against his silky side. "I told you—we grew up with the idea that humans were barbarians. We didn't know any better than you do about our kind." "That's...true," I itted, flipping to the next page. "I knew nothing about demons until I met you. I guess I also thought that they were monsters...you're anything but a monster, Lazareth." "I was a monster once," he said after a few moments, his words bitter. On the page, he traced over the violent demon that had fire bursting in circles around

him—his wings expanded and towering over the cowardly humans. "I didn't know any better—I was but a child. Playing with humans was my favorite pastime. I suppose to us, they were like a human child's doll." "Were they really lifeless?" I asked, pushing against his chest so that I could look at him in the eye. "Yes. My father drained them of their souls before he gave them to me. They were inanimate when I got my hands on them," Lazareth hissed. Between his lips, a forked, snake-like tongue sputtered in and out of his mouth. "Hey, at least you didn't take their souls from them. You were a child. You just saw something to play with—a gift from your father," I assured, placing a placating hand on his shoulder. His muscles tensed, but only for a moment before I felt him relax. He opened and closed his eyes, his chest heaving with every calming breath that he took. "How did he take their souls, though?" "How else?" Lazareth sneered, slamming the book shut. His claws grated the front cover, and I wasn't so sure if it was because he didn't want to look at the book, or if it was a way for him to calm himself down. "The same way human exorcisms take place, although more violent if you will." He regarded me out of the corner of his eye, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. "Considering that fact that you just ate, I would rather leave the descriptions to your own imagination as of right now." I swallowed thickly, suddenly very aware of the buttery bread and globs of tea still digesting down my throat. "Um...yeah, that's a good idea," I agreed. I reclined back against him, a wave of dizziness crashing into me abruptly. "A very good idea..." Lazareth pressed his hand to my forehead, frowning. "Are you sick?" He asked. "Your temperature feels hotter than other humans." I resisted the urge to make a joke back at him, swallowing shakily. Don't tell him about the medicine, I repeated over and over in my head. Don't let him know you're taking more than you're supposed to, Adrienne! He'll be pissed. And you don't want to see a pissed Lazareth...again. "I'm fine," I said quickly, shoving the dizziness down my throat even though I

still felt woozy. In front of me, it seemed as though Lazareth had doubled, then tripled, each a lighter shade of himself than he really was. "Are you sure?" He asked, his voice dropping to a deep, authoritative growl. "I know when you're lying to me, Adrienne. What's wrong?" Don't tell him! My brain cried. Don't ruin what we already have! Don't let him know how weak we are! "It's just the side effects of my medicine," I forced out, my heart feeling as though it were beating faster than a cheetah sprint. "You know—my anxiety pills. The side effects are dizziness. I'm fine, though. I've taken these pills long enough to get used to the effects." Until they prescribe you a new bottle every month. Then it's just a tale of rinse and repeat, I thought scornfully, bringing my trembling hands up to Lazareth's patchy face, brushing my hand against the thin stubble of his cheek. I gave him a smile, hoping he couldn't see the strain behind it. "I'll be fine," I told him again, reaching behind my back for the strap of his backpack. "But you'd better head to work or you'll be late, and I know how much you hate being late." The tension in Lazareth's eyes didn't disappear, but they did soften at my touch. He accepted his bag gracefully, standing and pulling me with him. His lips touched mine delicately, as though he were pressing a cube of ice atop the burning of my skin. "I'll be home soon," he murmured. "When you're feeling better, you can come into work, okay?" "Okay," I agreed because really, I didn't feel like arguing with him. The milk in my stomach felt like it was being churned into butter. "But I have to it—it does get a bit boring staying here alone—not that Laura isn't good company!" A deep laugh left Lazareth's icy lips and his amused dark eyes captured mine. "You don't have to stay here, then," he said. "I can lift the barrier so you can go outside." I blinked. "You can do that?" I asked.

Again, he laughed. "Yes, I can." He said. "I only told you that we had to wait for the curse to be broken because I was...irritated. I wanted to toy with you, so I lied to you about it." I glared at him, planting my hands on my hips, and he shrugged sheepishly. "I'm sorry, but I needed to know that you wouldn't run away from me," he said. His warm hand cupped my cheek. "Now that I know that you trust me—and I trust you—I'll gladly lift the barrier up. I don't want you to feel like a prisoner." "I don't," I murmured, feeling my eyes thaw at the childish pout of his lips. "But thank you for trusting me. I trust you too, a lot, and I promise that you won't regret this." Lazareth sighed, gazing at his palm as a green light enveloped his hand, blasting towards the door (with surprisingly no wind.) He smiled at me, knocking his head towards the opening. "I hope not."

~*~

The wind in my hair felt amazing, especially after being cooped up in a penthouse for what felt like weeks (when in reality it was only around a month). The sky was a light shade of blue, like the color of the ocean. Patches of white stamped along the colored canvas, drifting like they were on a river. The trees swayed with the hustle and bustle of people as they rushed to the bus stations and subways. I sat at an open cafe, sipping some hot chocolate and nibbling on a doughnut. The creamy custard from inside the pastry dribbled down my chin and I just barely managed to lick it before it got onto my shirt. "Ah!" I tossed my head back, beckoning the wind to sift its amazing fingers through my hair. "It feels so good to be out of the house, even if only for a moment." "It does, doesn't it?" A familiar, raspy voice agreed. A voice that sent chills up

my spine, but also sparked excitement in my chest. "Professor Alvarez?" I asked, jerking my head up to meet the beady eyes of my ex-professor. He smiled at me, looking as sharp as he always did. His silvery hair was combed and gelled back and his spring coat bounced in the breeze behind him. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Adrienne," he rumbled, his eyes darting to the empty chair on the opposite side of the table. "Is this spot taken?" "Uh...no, not at all!" I stammered, shaking the knots out of my hair and smoothing my clothes as he sat. My heart jumped and tittered anxiously around in my chest, like a ferret keeping a lookout for any predators. "Thank you," he said softly. "How have you been? I haven't seen you since graduation." "I'm doing well, thank you," I said, controlling the tremble of my throat. I gripped the seat underneath me, squeezing my anxiety out onto it. "How have you been, Professor?" "Oh, as well as I can be," he sighed, crossing one leg over the other. He smiled warmly at me, a vast contrast to his clipped demeanor when we were in school. "And you can call me Juan. We are no longer in school, after all." "Um...okay, I guess," I muttered, although it didn't feel very appropriate to call him by his first name after our previous relationship. "Good," he grunted, shuffling on his seat once again. "Have you gotten a job, Adrienne? I saw Mr. Noir eyeing you at our graduation ceremony, as well as many other businessmen." "Oh, yes!" I flushed, heat rising to my cheeks. "I spoke to La—Mr. Noir and he offered me a job as his editor at his company. I started a couple of weeks ago." "Hm...good," he murmured, smiling again, although it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Mr. Noir is a very rich tycoon—the richest, I suppose." "He is," I agreed, cautiously sipping my drink, washing the dreaded feeling of

fainting away with it. "He's a very nice man. A bit brash at times, but he's a gentleman if I ever saw one." "That sounds nice," Professor Alvarez clipped, his jaw clenched. I frowned. It didn't seem that he liked Lazareth very much—for whatever reason, I didn't know. Nor did I really care. It wasn't any of my business, and not everyone liked the same people. "Well, it's been nice catching up with you," I said after a few beats of awkward silence ed between us, "but I should be getting home. I have work tomorrow morning." Even though I still feel dizzy as hell...but Lazareth doesn't have to know that... "It has been nice to see you again too, Adrienne," he replied. He paused as I stood, scribbling something onto a gum wrapper he seemed to have kept in his pocket. "If you don't mind, I'd like to speak with you again." I raised my eyebrow at him. "You were one of my best students...I like to keep in touch with them..." "Okay..." I agreed hesitantly. I hadn't heard of teachers keeping in touch with their students after they graduated, but it wasn't against the law, as far as I knew. I picked the paper up, stashing it into my pocket. "I'll see you around, Professor." "Juan!" He called back as he stood, smirking at me with a waved hand before leaving. I watched him go, or rather, six different shades of him, as I wondered to myself how the hell, I would explain my male professor's phone number to Lazareth.

Chapter 24

"What are you doing today?" From the opposite side of the table, I peered at Lazareth from over my steaming tear mug, frowning. "What?" His lip quirked. "What are you doing today?" He repeated. "Work's canceled for some recreational holiday. What do you want to do?" The suggestive tone underneath his voice was audible enough for a shiver to through my spine, and his darkly colored eyes pierced my mind, as though he were reading my thoughts. I swallowed my drink, suddenly not feeling very hungry for my croissant. "Um...I'm not too sure, actually. I don't have anything planned. Do you?" "No. I finished my work early in the morning and instructed my assistant to make sure only emergencies reach me." He took my plate and mug, leaning towards me with a gentle kiss. "Do you know why I cleared my schedule today, Adrienne?" My name melted like soft butter on his tongue and I practically wilted from his kiss, gaping for a few moments before I was able to find my voice again. "Ah, um...no, I don't know." I fiddled with my skirt underneath the table, sparks trailing along my skin from the places Lazareth dragged his hand. "What do you have on your schedule today?" Lazareth paused, silent for a moment. His eyes shot upward in what looked to be a pondering expression. "Well, if my memory serves me well, it seems there's only one item on my to-do list that I have yet to complete." "Oh?" I quirked my eyebrow, undeniably curious. I played with my medicine capsule on the table. "What is it?" How long are you going to string me on, Lazareth?

He didn't reply. Instead, he patiently waited for me to finish taking my medicine (which was unfortunate, because I was hoping to sneak in a second or third capsule when he turned his back). Once I was done, he tucked his arm under my legs and wrapped his other arm around my shoulders, lifting me into his arms. "Lazareth!" I yelped, flailing for a moment before wonkily looping my arms around his shoulders. "Wh-what are you..." "Your name is the only thing I have on my to-do list today, Adrienne," Lazareth murmured, his voice reduced to a silky purr. "We can do whatever you'd like. Watch a movie. Play a game..." "What kind of game?" I challenged, aware of the wicked undertone of his voice. It wasn't board games that he was implying... He smirked, his devilish eyes gleaming arrogantly. "Oh, I don't know. Perhaps...Twister?" "Twister?!" I repeated with a short laugh, relaxing on the couch as he set me down. "You of all people play Twister, Lazareth?" He shrugged, taking a seat beside me. His slender fingers wrapped around the remote that sat on the coffee table in front of us. "I have once, with Clyde," he mentioned softly. "We did not play human games much as children. It wasn't until we settled here in New York that we began to play." "Have you ever been to the skyline?" I asked, cuddling into his side. He sighed, wrapping his arm around me. "No, I have not," he mumbled. "I have heard that the view is gorgeous, however being a CEO gives me hardly any free time. I had to fight with my assistant to get this day off." "Huh, go figure," I chuckled. Lazareth of all people had the audacity to claim that it was difficult for him to get days off when he used to literally spend his time stalking me in cafes? Yeah, I'd believe that. "It's true," he defended himself childishly, flipping through the Netflix catalog. "I met you on my lunch breaks—!"

"You mean stalked," I cut in pointedly, grinning at him. His cheeks flushed and he looked away, clearing his throat. "Ah—yes, if you want to put it like that. I...stalked you." I shook my head, unable to hide my silly grin in his chest. "You promised me that you wouldn't do it again, Laz. I'm not angry at you—well, at least not anymore." His chest deflated. "That's good. I really meant what I said," he said, pausing at a movie. "But don't call me Laz." Rolling my eyes, I shook my head, my once-spinning brain calming with the soft rhythm of his heartbeat. "I know, I'm sorry," I giggled. He scowled, but I could tell he was trying hard not to smile. His lips twitched as he started the movie, tucking me against him tighter than I already was. Just as we were getting comfortable and the movie was getting past the dramatic beginning, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Lazareth glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and I chuckled sheepishly. He shook his head, pecking the top of my head and turning back to the movie as I checked who had sent me a message. PROF. ALVAREZ: HELLO ADRIENNE. ARE YOU BUSY RIGHT NOW? Shit, I cursed internally. I felt Lazareth tense, but he didn't look down at my screen, his eyes staying firmly on the T.V. Now he wants to meet? Now?! Out of all the other days we could've talked?! ME: HI, PROFESSOR. ALVAREZ. YES, I AM A LITTLE BUSY RIGHT NOW. IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT? I sighed, licking my dry lips. Hopefully, he would either ask someone else for his favor (assuming that was what he was texting me for) or he would get the hint and back off. PROF. ALVAREZ: AH, I UNDERSTAND. WEEKEND HOLIDAY. HOWEVER, WOULD YOU MIND IF WE MET QUICKLY? THERE'S

SOMETHING I'VE BEEN MEANING TO DO, BUT I DIDN'T GET A CHANCE TO DO SO LAST WE MET. ME: UM...SURE. LET ME JUST GET READY. WHERE DO YOU WANT TO MEET? PROF. ALVAREZ: EXCELLENT! HOW ABOUT THE COFFEE SHOP WE MET LAST TIME? IN 5? ME: SURE I turned off my phone, exhaling loudly. Lazareth's eyes flickered to me, and he paused the movie, his hands sifting through my hair. "What is it, Adrienne?" He asked gently. "Who was that?" "My old professor," I grumbled, reluctantly peeling myself from his arms. He stared at me a little uncomprehendingly, his eyebrow cocked. "And?" A hard edge laced his words. "What did Alvarez want?" "He wanted to tell me something important," I drawled. "How did you know it was Alvarez? How do you know him?" "I saw his name at the top of your screen," Lazareth commented breezily, but I could tell he wasn't too happy about Alvarez interrupting our private time. His eyes were rock hard and his jaw was set firmly. "I'll be back as soon as I can," I whispered, kissing his lips quickly. He melted momentarily to kiss me back, gripping my wrist. "Okay," he mumbled, his eyes downcast. "Oh, and Adrienne?" "Yes?" I looked back at him, waiting. He wasn't smiling. "Be careful."

~***~

"You said something was urgent?" I asked, watching my ex-professor as he munched on a doughnut. I made it to the cafe in record time, easily spotting Professor Alvarez sitting on one of the outside booths. "Yes, I did," he said, while languidly eating the last bit of his pastry. I resisted the urge to snap at him—he was still my teacher, even if I wasn't in his class anymore. It was hard, though, especially with my hand twitching under the table and my desire to go back to Lazareth again crashing into me like hard waves. "Well...what is it?" I tried not to sound impatient, but with every bite he took, it was getting marginally harder. "Do you want a piece?" He asked instead, reaching over so our hands brushed. "Um...no," I refused, recoiling. My stomach churned and his shoe brushed against my leg, probably a scratch. "What is it you wanted to tell me, Prof—!" "Juan." His voice was clipped, like when I gave a disappointing essay. "I told you to call me by my name, Adrienne." I closed my eyes for five seconds, counting to calm myself before exhaling loudly. "Juan," I said tartly. "What is it that you wanted?" "Ah, that's better," he smirked, his tired grey eyes crinkling on the sides. "You know, you look really beautiful in the light, Adrienne." He reached over again, his hand brushing against my cheek. I didn't move away at that time, probably still trying to comprehend his actions. I mean—he had never touched me...anywhere, except maybe my arm. And my cheek of all places...that was...creepy. Again, I recoiled, my smile feeling more and more forced. "Juan, please. I have plans with someone and I'm in a big rush—!" "Don't trust him," he said suddenly. I blinked. "What?"

Professor Alvarez, or Juan, I guess, stared at me, his eyebrows drawn angrily and his lip curled in a scowl. "Noir. Don't trust him, Adrienne. He'll use you. He looks out for nobody but himself. He's just like his name—his heart is as black as an abyss. Don't trust him." "Excuse me?!" Anger flared in my chest, but just as quickly, dizziness captivated me. I shook my head, trying to shake the extra versions of Juan away. "Whatever I do with Noir is my business and—!" But he was already getting up, dropping a few bills on the table and leaving me with a knowing stare, the same stare he used to give me in class. Come to think of it, though, he always seemed to be looking at me—class or no class. He looked at me, touched me, and thought he had the right to tell me who I could and could not myself with. Who did he think he was? Lazareth was nothing like he described—he loved me, I knew he did. I could feel it. Those nights we spent talking in hushed whispers or kissing in complete bliss— he didn't know the Lazareth I knew. Nobody knew the Lazareth I knew.

~****~

I raced back home, eager to curl up against Lazareth again and continue our movie. Maybe we could even sneak in some kissing and cuddling or finally eat together. Usually, we ate separately because of Lazareth's busy work schedule. Today was probably the only day we could actually spend more than an hour of quality time with one another. Or, at least, I thought. When I got home, throwing my bag onto the countertop and flicking the lights on, Lazareth was standing in the middle of the room, his arms crossed over his chest and his hip cocked ever so slightly to the side as though he were waiting for me. A scowl painted over his face and his eyes were narrowed dangerously.

"Lazareth?" I paused, regarding him for a moment before taking a step closer to him. "What's up?" "What's up?" Lazareth practically hissed. From his folded hands, he pulled out a picture and a note, tossing it onto the table in front of us. "Why don't you tell me what's up, Adrienne?" My heartbeat rapidly in my chest and my legs suddenly felt wobbly as I got a good look at the articles Lazareth had thrown on the table. Suddenly, it was as if I had forgotten the entire English language. My tongue felt numb. He found it... "Lazareth, I can explain..." I glanced helplessly at me and Mike's middle school picture and the note associated with it, wishing vehemently that they could disappear. "I—!" "No, you don't need to explain," Lazareth cut in harshly, his demonic eyes slicing through me. They weren't warm, not anymore. He wasn't my Lazareth— no. At that moment, he was business CEO Lazareth. The scary version of Lazareth. "I told you not to open that package," Lazareth seethed. "I knew he'd try something like this on you, and what do you do? You open the package! Why didn't you listen to me? Better yet, why didn't you tell me?!" "I don't need to tell you everything I do," I scowled, crossing my arms over my chest too. "I'm not your slave. I'm a human being." "You aren't my slave," Lazareth agreed, taking a powerful step towards me. With every step he took, it felt like the ground shook, or maybe that was just my medication. "But I don't ask for much from you, Adrienne. I just didn't want you to open that parcel!" "You can't tell me what to do!" I burst out. "I'm not some prisoner, Lazareth, so why do you make me feel like one?! Why can't I do what I want? What choice do I get? It's addressed to me! Why can't I open it?!" He opened his mouth to argue back, but I wasn't done yet. Anger clouded my

brain and the small part of the rationale I had left in me. Everything was exploding inside of me and I couldn't keep it in anymore. "All this has been your doing in the first place!" I shouted although I didn't intend for my voice to raise so loudly. "Your rules. Your curse. Your contract. And I've done everything you've asked. I stayed home. I followed your contract. Hell, I even forgave you for stalking me!" I felt my eyes blazing and my heart burned in my chest. "But what's worse is that even though you're making me angry right now—even though I hate that you think that you can tell me what I can and can't do, I still love you, Lazareth!" I stopped to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling heavily, and Lazareth stared at me, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. "W-What...?" He murmured. "You...you love me?" Tears pricked my eyes and I nodded despite myself, sneered. "Yeah, tragic, right?" I scoffed. "I'm falling in love with a billionaire who thinks that he rules the world and so he can rule over women, too." "I never said that!" Lazareth growled. "I don't rule over you, Adrienne. You're making a big deal out of this for nothing! All I said was to not open the package. Why couldn't you listen to me the first time? What if Mike tries something again?!" "Let him!" I cried. "Let him do whatever he wants, cause you know what, Lazareth? I do love you. I love you so much—more than I have ever loved anyone else when in reality all you have is a...a..." I thought back to Juan's words, the sentence boiling out of me before I could even stop and think about what I was saying. "All you have is a pitch, black heart!" I was puffing now, tears streaking down my cheeks and my skin sticky. My hands clenched and unclenched into fists and I glared at Lazareth, who regarded me coldly, his eyes emotionless and his posture slowly becoming stiff, like a statue. "A black heart, eh?" He repeated sardonically. Throwing his head back, he let out a loud, sadistic laugh. "You know what, Adrienne? I thought you were different too. I thought that despite my flaws—despite me being a demon, I thought that you could see the humanity in me. I thought that you could see that

I also bleed red." He scoffed, cackling but with no humor. "But now I realize that you see what everyone else sees." "Oh yeah?" I challenged. "What?" His eyes speared through me, sending me in a dizzy spiral again. "A demon with a cold, black heart." "Good! You finally it it!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air. I didn't wait for him to reply with another comeback. Grabbing my purse from the countertop again and ignoring Lazareth's calls, I stomped towards the door, opening it— —and slamming it shut behind me.

Chapter 25

I fucked up. It was raining. The droplets of heavy liquid felt like torrents on my skin. The forecast hadn't called for rain, but the weather was always unpredictable in New York. I walked with my arms clutching each other, the rain dribbling down my back and soaking my clothes. The sky rumbled, like whenever Lazareth was pleased with himself. There was no lightning, thankfully, but the wind was strong and fast. More than once, I thought I was going to be blown off my feet. I completely fucked up, I thought bitterly, unable to hold back the sobs as I trudged in the rain. The streets were busy, just like always, but nobody cared enough to ask why I was crying. I didn't want them to, anyway. They wouldn't care. My chest trembled with hiccups and sobs that wracked my body. Around me, the world spun like I was on a Merry-Go-Round. I couldn't think straight. Everything in my brain was jumbled and confused. My lips were wet, but they hurt as if my prior words to Lazareth were knives that slit my mouth every time I spoke. A few people I ed by let their gazes rest on me for a moment too long, but honestly, I was too busy crying to care. In a way, I was thankful that it was raining. Nobody would be able to distinguish my tears from raindrops. "God...I messed up big time," I murmured through quiet sniffles, pausing by a brightly lit shop to push wet strands of hair out of my face. "Why the fuck did I yell at him? He didn't do anything wrong...well, apart from looking through my things..." I bent my head, almost ashamed. Me and my mouth. When I was in high school, I was well known among my classmates for having no filter on my mouth. The anxious kid who would say anything and everything that came to her mind.

Verbally fighting, though, I excelled at. Maybe a little too much. "Are you alright, honey?" A woman's voice questioned. Looking up, I caught the honey-colored eyes of a dark-skinned woman with bright red lips and beautiful make-up. Her hair was thick and luscious and curly. She wore a dry yellow dress and tilted her umbrella so that it stood above us, sheltering us from the rain. Sniffling, I wiped hastily at my eyes, forcing a smile on my lips as the world continued spinning. "Yes, ma'am, alright," I murmured. She frowned. "You don't look alright. You're crying." "Yeah...I am," I hiccupped. "But you don't need to worry about me. I'll be okay." "Nonsense!" She gasped, sounding affronted. "I can't just leave you here crying and alone in the rain! You'll get sick!" She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, comforting me. "Come. Let's go to that coffee shop. You don't have to talk. I just want you to get warmed up." "You don't have to..." but she was already pulling me gently towards the coffee shop, and my body let her, limp in this kind stranger's arms. Breathing raggedly, I settled on a chair close to one of the window booths while the woman ordered herself a coffee and a doughnut. As my vision cleared and I was able to stop seeing more than one layer of an object, I realized with a painful twist of my heart that this was the coffee shop Lazareth and I used to frequent before we got together with the whole demon fiasco. It was the place that he and I began to talk more and soon started going on dates. Dates...did I ever even get to go on a real date with Lazareth? I thought, but that only brought more tears to my eyes. I wasn't able to swallow them this time. It was like when you took too big of a gulp of water and had to just swallow it bit by bit. "Here." The woman slid a cup towards me. "Please don't worry about paying. This is the least I could do." "Thank you," I sighed, too tired to really care. Numbly, I picked the drink up

from the table, washing the saltiness down my throat with sugar. "Really, thank you." "Anytime," she murmured, eyeing me warily as if looking for the right opportunity to speak. "Are you feeling any better?" "A little," I managed, though it sounded a bit garbled. "I'm sorry. I just have so many things going on in my mind and...it's so much..." "You can tell me if you want to," she said, smiling slightly. "I know we've only met, but if it helps, I'm willing to listen. I don't have anything to do later tonight, anyway." I giggled into my drink, unsure why, but enjoying the feeling of laughter bubbling out of me instead of tears. "Thank you, but I don't even know your name." "Oh!" She gasped. "How rude of me! I'm Katya! And you?" I gave her a worn smile. "Adrienne," I murmured. She quirked an eyebrow. "You look familiar," she mused, and a twinging pain struck through me. "Oh! Are you that girl from the newspaper? The one who was dancing with Lazareth Noir?" Swallowing a groan, I nodded. "Yep! That's me! Although, we...aren't anything, if that's what you were going to ask. We're just..." I gulped. "Friends." "Well." She grinned. "I'd rather be friends with a billionaire than nothing!" Then, she frowned. "So, what's wrong? Getting slack for being buddies with a rich boy?" "You could say something like that," I whispered, bending my head, wishing I could dig a hole and bury myself forever in it. "I'm...having relationship problems." "Are you?" Katya raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Well, you're in luck! I just so happen to be a relationship coach/advisor." She shuffled a bit on the seat opposite me, clearing her throat comically. "What seems to be the problem, madame?"

I chuckled the best I could, knowing she was trying to cheer me up despite having only met me. "Well...my boyfriend and I...we've known each other for a bit and...things happened and we have to live together." "How long is a bit?" Katya interrupted, her eyebrows drawn. I shrugged. "A couple of months. Almost 10, I think." "Okay," she nodded. "So, you two moved in together?" "Somewhat," I mumbled, trying not to give away the demon and contract part. "There's something...forcing us to stay together. We never really talked about moving in yet...we weren't at that stage." "Hm..." she hummed, frowning. "Okay. Go on." I sighed. "We got into a fight maybe an hour ago," I whimpered. "An ex-friend of mine—he had sexually assaulted me a while ago for rejecting him in middle school—!" "Hold up! Hold up!" Katya raised her hands in the air, scowling. "You mean to say that this son of a bitch tried to rape you because you rejected him in the seventh grade?!" "Eighth," I corrected quietly. "But yes, he did." She grunted, shaking her head in what looked to be disappointment. "Men. They always think they're some hero. In reality, they're just children." She squeezed my hand over the table. "Trust me. I got three at home." Laughing, I nearly spit out my drink. "Three men?" I asked. She nodded. "Yeah. My boyfriend, my brother, and my son." She smiled. "But what were you saying before that?" I cleared my throat, spinning the empty cup on the table in front of me. "Yeah, so he sent me a package as an apology. My boyfriend told me not to open it, but I didn't listen to him and opened it anyway. Long story short—he got really mad, and we had an explosive fight."

"Did it get physical?" Katya asked. I shook my head. "No. He would never hurt me." I leaned my head back on the chair. "But I said some things I shouldn't have, and I deeply regret it now. That's why I was crying outside..." and because he's a demon and I'm bound to him by a brand, but you don't have to know that, Katya. Katya was silent for a few moments, but then, she sighed heavily, setting her cup on the table and playing with the sprinkles of her doughnut. Shiftily, I glanced up at her. "Do you think he hates me now?" "What?" She blurted. "No! No, of course not, hon! Couples get into fights all the time." She squeezed my hand again. "I'm sure he loves you very much. Does he work?" "Yeah. He works as a manager in a big company," I lied. "Then he just might be stressed. You too." She said, eyeing the obvious strands of white hair on my head. "Sometimes we say things that we don't mean to say. It happens. But if your love is strong enough, then he can forgive you. Provided it wasn't anything too harsh, was it?" "No, at least, I hope not," I murmured. "But what should I do? Should I go back to him?" "I think it would be best," Katya mused. She glanced at her wristwatch. "It's almost nine. What time did you two fight?" "Around three." "Holy shit! You've been out there for six hours!" Katya gasped. "Honey, your boyfriend will be worried sick if you don't get back home! And you...you might catch a cold! What were you thinking?!" "I needed some air," I mumbled. "Fighting with a hothead never works well for anybody. I didn't want to say anything I would regret. I-I love him." "It looks like you do," Katya agreed, smiling. "And does he love you?"

"Yes...at least, he's told me. I just hope he doesn't change his mind after the fight." "He won't," Katya assured, even though she didn't know anything about Lazareth. "Just go talk to him. It's better you do so now before it really is too late." "I suppose so," I said after a couple of beats of silence. I smiled at her—not a forced smile, this time. "Thank you, Katya. I don't know how I can pay you back, but I really appreciate you talking to me. I-It really helped." She beamed. "Anytime!" Then, she paused, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a scrap of paper and a pen. She scribbled something onto it and gave it to me. "Here's my number If you need any more help or just want to chat, hit me up!" She said. "Sure," I grinned. "I'd like that." Katya and I parted ways after we split the bill, promising to see each other soon. She was a very nice lady, although older than me by nearly a decade, she felt as though she were one of my college buddies. Or maybe even an incarnation of Kath! That would be pretty funny. The rain had stopped by the time I had reached the more private sector of New York. Well, maybe not fully stopped, but it had become a light drizzle. The sky was parting too, revealing a dark, but the beautiful night sky. Like Lazareth, I thought. God, I have to apologize to him. I shouldn't have told him what I did...he most certainly doesn't have a black heart...but he does have gorgeous black eyes. "Adrienne." I yelped when someone pulled me into a dark alleyway, pinning me against the wall. For a fleeting moment, I thought it was Lazareth, but when the light reflected off the man's face, I felt my heart drop. Juan Alvarez stared at me, his grey eyes seeming to glow in the dark hazy light

of the moon. His mouth was parted slightly and a staunch smell of gasoline wafted around my body. His fingers curled tightly around my arm and I just barely hid a wince. "J-Juan..." I stammered. "Um...can you let me go? I'm sorry, I can't talk right now. I—!" "Shh..." he pressed a crooked finger to my lips, shushing me, and I frowned, crossing my eyes to see his finger. What the hell? "Um...please let me go..." I repeated, trying to pull myself out of his grasp. He held me firmly, though. It brought flashbacks to when Mike sexually assaulted me in the office, and anxiety slithered around my stomach. "I've been waiting for so long for this..." he murmured. "Ever since you were my student...walking in on day one...you just knew how to attract me...seducing me with your thick thighs and curves..." "Excuse me?" I snapped, getting defensive. My chest heaved and I tried again to yank away from him, but he held me still. "Get away from me! I have a boyfriend and...that's so unprofessional!" "Is it?" He murmured. "We don't have any relationship now..." "You were my teacher!" I sputtered. "Of course, we had a relationship! I-I'm sorry, I don't want anything past that! I...I love someone else..." Juan was quiet for a while, still holding me, and my heart thumped loudly in my chest, a distant ringing in my ears. I resisted the urge to swallow. What would he do with me now? Swiftly, he tugged my arm, smashing my lips to his. My eyes widened and a muffled scream released from my mouth but to no avail. There was nobody else in these parts of town. The ally was dark and the moon was hiding behind the shadows. He had my legs pinned, probably knowing I would aim for his crotch. I hated to it it, but his arms were strong, holding me so strongly I knew he would leave marks. Against my will, tears trickled down my cheeks, and as much as I didn't want to accept defeat against his lips, pushing and shoving could only do so

much. "Get off! Get off! Get—!" Suddenly, Juan was ripped away from me and I tumbled to the ground. Looking up, dark black wings fluttered like a protective shield in front of me. Baby purple skin glowed in the streetlamps and dark green eyes glowered murderously at Juan. Lazareth! I gasped, and Lazareth growled, holding Juan by the collar. "I believe the lady said to stop," he snarled, his eyes probably narrowed. "She was enjoying it. Get lost," Juan spat, seemingly showing no fear towards Lazareth. "Oh, I'm sure she was," Lazareth replied sarcastically. "I didn't know a part of foreplay was screaming to get off!" "It is," Juan replied calmly. "So, get lost." Lazareth growled, stiff for a moment, before bashing Juan's head against the wall one time after another. Screams echoed in the ally, mine of Juan's, I wasn't sure, but Lazareth seemed to have no qualms about what he was doing. His anger was palpable. "You. Fucking. Bitch." He roared and I was surprised nobody had heard us. How late in the night was it? "You dare touch my girlfriend? She bares my mark—my protection. Nobody lays a fucking finger on her! Ever!" His girlfriend...if we weren't in the situation that we were in, I would be leaping for joy, but right now, I had to stop Lazareth. Yes, Juan assaulted me (something I really should've seen in hindsight), but Lazareth didn't need another murder on his record. "Lazareth!" I struggled to my feet. "Lazareth! Stop!" "Why?" Lazareth turned back towards me, Juan lying nearly limp in his arms.

His lips were curled into a vicious snarl. "He hurt you. He touched you where you did not give him permission to. Why should I let him live?" "You know why," I replied steadily. "We both know why. You can't do this, Lazareth. Please, you aren't that type of man..." Lazareth was quiet for a few moments, glaring between Juan and me, before finally dropping Juan's body onto the ground. My ex-professor coughed up blood and gasped for air, gazing helplessly at me from above his hooded eyes. "You're lucky she was here to save your useless ass," Lazareth spat. "But if I were you, I'd be sleeping with an eye open tonight...and for the rest of your life." Before I could reach out to help him, Lazareth grabbed my arm, still in his demonic form, and took me into his arms, taking off into the sky. Momentarily, I was frightened, a part of me still trapped in the ally, but after a few moments, my body periodically calmed down. I had my arms looped around his neck, gazing at him in the night silence. When we reached the penthouse and Lazareth retracted into his human form, he turned to me, anger and another emotion evident from the radiation of his eyes. "We need to talk."

Chapter 26

Everything was quiet. Lazareth and I stood a few feet away from each other, looking everywhere and anywhere except at the other. He shuffled on his feet, fixing his tie, and I toyed with my fingers, playing with my bottom lip. I could hear voices outside, a woman and Clyde, although I wasn't sure who she was. It didn't really matter to me, though. Deep in my mind, I could still hear Juan's screaming. I could still see the blood that trickled from his mouth and I'm pretty sure Lazareth crushed his skull, if not, cracked it. On my arms, all my hairs were still on edge, tense from the ghostly feeling of Juan's fingers around the sensitive skin. My breathing was shaky, leaving my lips in harsh gasps and groans. By his side, Lazareth's hands were visibly twitching. It ached me not to be in his arms again —it felt so good to be against him again, but there was so much to talk about. Putting words aside would do us no good, and whatever was left of our relationship would crumble, I knew that. But it would be so easy...so simple just to let him kiss me...we could forget everything, even for one night... "Sit down," Lazareth finally spoke, ordering me towards the couch softly. His eyes were steely hard, and I complied quietly. Everything inside of me was still trembling and words weren't willing to come out, no matter how many times I opened my mouth to speak. "Here." He returned from the kitchen, gently handing me a bottle of what I thought to be whiskey. "It'll help calm you down. Drink some." ittedly, I was a bit wary about the drink at first. What if he had spiked it with something when he went to get it? Like a sleeping pill or some other unknown drug? It would be an easy way to get rid of me, yeah, but to what avail? He held in in front of me steadily, his eyes void of emotion, and after a few more

moments of silence and contemplation, I finally accepted his offer, gulping the tangy liquid like I was a parched woman. Lazareth watched me silently, taking the glass when I was done and placing it on the oakwood table in front of us. He sat on the opposing couch, his hands crossed in his lap like a businessman, but as we both relaxed, I could see his stony facade fall. His eyes were wrinkled and bloodshot and his lips were pursed. More than once, he had run his fingers through his hair and over his face, like he was agitated. God, how much had I worried him? I thought, waiting for him to speak again. Despite practically downing the glass of whiskey, my throat somehow still felt parched and dry. Words that surrounded my mind, begging to be said, all died on my tongue, like candy melting. "You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" He finally said after a few moments of sighing and mumbling to himself. I scowled, taken aback. "I am not!" I croaked, flinching internally at how...meek I sounded. "How dare you? You come and fight Juan, take me back here, and this is the first thing you say to me? I'm a fucking idiot? As if I'm the person who started the entire argument!" "Yeah, well you didn't have to scare the fucking shit out of me!" Lazareth snarled, his dark eyes blazing. "When you left—in the rain no less, I thought for sure something had happened to you!" "Like what? I died from tiny water droplets?!" I retorted cynically. "Yeah, that'll be the day, Laz." "Don't call me Laz," he growled. "And no, but you were going to be raped—for the second time, Adrienne! If I hadn't gone looking for you, only God knows what would've happened to you!" "Oh, how ironic," I sneered. "A demon who believes that God would actually save me. Well, guess what?!" I stood from the couch, my wrists snapping to my hips. "I'm not a submissive, weak girl, Lazareth. Just because I take medicine for anxiety doesn't make me dependent on people. All my life, everyone thinks I need help because I'm mentally unstable! And guess what? I do need help! And I'm so fucking ashamed about that!" I broke off to laugh, but it wasn't a very

humorous one. "I ashamed that I have to rely on everyone else's help because I can't control my goddamed emotions. I'm like a...a pathetic princess. One who only cries and pleads for the monsters to stop. I'm no hero. I'm not strong. I'm...nothing..." "Hey," Lazareth footsteps approached my blurred vision and I looked up at him, meeting his dark eyes. They glowed in the room, feeding and reflecting off the silky light of the moon. "Hey, you aren't weak, okay? You aren't nothing, Adrienne. You are strong and brave." "No, I'm not!" I cried as tears cascaded down my cheeks. They were strong and fast, like a heavy current, and as much as I tried to wipe them, they didn't stop. "I can't even protect myself, Lazareth! If you hadn't shown up, Juan would have...he would have..." I broke off. "And even with Mike! You...you're the hero...not me...I couldn't do anything..." "You can do so many things, Adrienne," Lazareth murmured. He wrapped his arms around me, taking my body into his arms. I sniffled, and he stroked my hair. "Adrienne, you're such a strong, brave woman, even though you think that you aren't. Do you know how many women of your age, and maybe older, would have run at the sight of me?" "No..." "Exactly. Countless women, Adrienne," Lazareth sighed. "But you didn't. You brave, stuck-up, smart girl stayed, even though you could've gone, and I would've let you. You worked at a job despite your boss being the man you despised, and you stayed strong for your family even though you felt like crying." I gaped at him. "How did you know...? I never told anybody...?" "I can read your mind, silly," he teased, ruffling my hair. "And you spoke in your sleep. It was pretty easy to guess the rest." He tried for a smile. "But, you are brave, Adrienne. You're the bravest, strongest girl I know. It's okay to ask for help when you need it, and..." "I needed it," I finished. "I knew—I know now I never could've fought off Juan on my own, or Mike." I groaned. "But...why were you so mad? I mean—it was addressed to me, the letter. We could've talked civilly about it. I wouldn't have

minded." "It was Juan," Lazareth itted. "We spoke briefly during your graduation, but I always felt that something was...off about him. I didn't know you were leaving to see him, but I guess you could say that I was seething about him. Finding Mike's letter kinda just lit the fuse. I...I wasn't thinking straight when I yelled at you...I'm sorry." "I forgive you," I said simply, wiping at my eyes again. "I don't think any of us were in our right minds a few hours ago. I went to meet Juan—he had texted me when we were watching the movie, and now that I think back to it, all the signs were there. I should've just been more careful. Or maybe not as blind." Lazareth chuckled breathily. "You aren't blind," he said. "Maybe naive, but not blind." "Hey!" I poked his cheek and he laughed, bringing giggles out of me. "I'm...okay, maybe a little naive." "Just a little," Lazareth agreed, pinching his fingers, "But so am I, so who am I to speak?" "Hypocrite much?" I scoffed, still smiling. He shook his head. "Yeah..." he sighed. "By the way, what did you do before meeting Juan?" I shrugged. "I kinda just walked around in the rain. I met a woman—we talked for a bit in a coffee shop and then...well...I met Juan." I tried for a laugh. "I didn't really do much, honestly." "I'm so sorry," Lazareth murmured. "I know I keep saying that—fuck, I don't know how I keep mes, but I'm so fucking sorry, Adrienne. You don't deserve to go through with this...not with someone like me..." "Hey!" I snapped. "Isn't it my choice who I get to be with or not?" "Well, yes, but—!" "And I chose you," I said, smoothing the lapels of his wrinkled shirt. "Lazareth, if you can help me with my anxiety and live with me through my tirades of

crying and panic attacks, I think I can live with you and your demonic side. It doesn't scare me—you don't scare me. And I forgive you...couples get into fights all the time! We aren't any different." "Yeah," he huffed. "We aren't. I just wish I could take back the yelling. I shouldn't have even raised my voice with you. I promised myself that I wouldn't..." I cut him off, jumping on my tippy toes to press my lips to his, wanting, needing him. We should've kept talking, but I didn't want to talk anymore. He was sorry —I was sorry. We made up. We apologized. Now, I just wanted him. I wanted his affirmation, his promise, to be sealed. The ache inside me was new, almost foreign. It had been a long time since I wanted someone...if he wanted me. A snarl rumbled from Lazareth's throat, like a warning hiss. When I didn't pull away, his fingers snagged the hooks on my pants, pulling me closer to him. He kissed me back hungrily, like a tiger. I wanted to open my eyes but ing what happened the last time I opened them, I kept them closed. "Tell me to stop now or else I won't be able to," Lazareth growled. He trailed kisses along my jaw and down my neck, tugging at my shirt. I gasped and moaned, tugging his head desperately. "I don't want you to stop. I want you to take me, now...make me yours...please!" Lazareth didn't say anything, but with a lasting bite on my neck, he took me into his arms, finding my lips again as we kissed vigorously. He pushed open the door to his bedroom, and I vaguely ed the last time I was on his bed before he dropped me on the mattress. His eyes were animalistic and glowing, and dark light was swallowing him—his transformation enveloping him. "I..." he tried to push it back, but I stopped him, gripping his wrist. "It's okay," I murmured, tugging my shirt off. "I want you. The real you." Lazareth snarled, silent for a moment. He regarded the shirt I had tossed on the floor and crawled on top of me, pressing me onto the mattress before kissing me again. His tongue intertwined with mine, drawing deep moans out of me as his

claws ripped at his button-up shirt, unclipping my bra. "So beautiful..." he growled, silencing my whimpers with a kiss again as he squeezed my breast. Warmth pooled in between my thighs and shocks spread throughout my body at every place Lazareth touched and kissed. The rest of my clothes disappeared like magic, leaving me bare before my carnivorous demon. He gazed at me with hazy, black eyes, his hands trailing along my skin and drawing shivers out of me. "Please, Lazareth..." I begged. A malicious grin curled on his lips. "I knew I'd have you begging for me one day," he growled, kissing me as he let his jeans and boxers slide off his lithe, muscular body. He didn't wait, slamming into me with impatience. A scream tore from my throat and I writhed under him, whimpering as tears dribbled down my cheeks. Lazareth kissed every single droplet away, cooing at me as he stilled inside me, waiting for me to calm down. Honestly, though, I didn't know how I could. Everything inside me was on fire, burning like hot lava. Sweat beaded on my forehead and my legs felt heavy and limp. It hurt at first, like a sharp pinch, but it wasn't long before pleasure coursed through me, binding me. Lazareth gazed at me, grunting and rutting against me. He eyed a spot on my neck, and as soon as the warm gush of liquid burst from me with a cry, he bit down on me, hard. Like, I could feel my blood turn cold and freeze, then just as quickly become unbearably hot and scalding. He pulled away and flopped beside me, pulling me easily into his arms. I buried myself into him, my legs feeling like jelly. "Now everyone will know that you're mine," he purred, tracing something on my skin. "Claimed by the heir to the throne...the demon prince's mark."

Chapter 27

I awoke the next morning with searing pain in my abdominal region. It was nothing like I've ever felt before. Hot, burning, like sparks igniting inside of me. It made me want to writhe on the bed, the ache in between my thighs unbearably addicting and delicious. No man had made me feel the way Lazareth had last night. It only lasted a couple of minutes, but in my mind, it felt like hours had gone by in our little bubble. Sleep pressured my eyes to close, but I defiantly opened them. I didn't want to keep sleeping anymore. We had the whole day to ourselves—why waste it? Just me and Lazareth...alone. The thought of being alone and intimate with Lazareth again sent a new course of pleasure rattling through my spine and I shivered. He was sleeping soundly beside me, his eyes closed and his lips relaxed. Every chiseled, god-like muscle in his body was loose and unwound, like a child who had been assured that monsters didn't roam underneath their beds or in their closets. My fingers itched with the desire to touch him again—my demon prince. In the light, he looked more like an angel than the devil, but ing last night, I knew for sure that Lazareth was far from an angel. Deft, slim fingers, tall black wings and pointed, pristine fangs—Lazareth was anything but angelic and pure, but quite honestly, I didn't mind it. He made me feel like a Queen, like a Goddess, even though I was hardly anywhere close to being one. Carefully, so that I didn't wake him, I cuddled closer to his naked frame on our unruly bed, shoving the sheets aside with my feet to get better access to his body. The duvet slid like a receding wave from his chest, exposing me to the gleaming dips and curves of his arms and stomach. If he felt me moving nearer to him, he certainly didn't acknowledge it. He slept soundly, snoring every now and then. I began my road at the base of his thick, steady throat, traveling down his light black veins towards his chest. He was sweaty, probably from the thick blanket he had pulled over us last night. The small, hard trenches of his body were filled with salty droplets of water, like streams drying out.

So focused on my task, I was, that I didn't even realize when Lazareth had awoken. His snoring had stopped, ittedly, but I just thought that he had found a more comfortable position to sleep in. He stayed still underneath me, and it wasn't until I moved back up to his face that I noticed his dark eyes following me. I blushed, squeaking, and Lazareth gave a breathy chuckle, reaching for my hand. "You can keep touching," he murmured, kissing every fingertip. "I'm all yours." "I dare not," I whispered, sounding strangely poetic. "You look so beautiful asleep." "Really? I thought I looked like an anime mess," Lazareth shook his head in amusement, huffing. "But it's wondering what love does to you, isn't it?" "It is," I agreed, burying myself into his chest. His bulky, sturdy arms wrapped around me like thick pillars—pillars of strength. "Although I doubt our...play last night would be considered an act of sacrificial love, wouldn't it?" Again, he laughed, kissing the top of my head. "No, it wouldn't. It has to be a true sacrifice," he said. Then, he sighed. "However, I must it—I've been thinking less and less of that damned contract." "As in the one I never signed?" I asked, smirking. "Why are you thinking less about it? Don't you want to go home?" "At first, I did," Lazareth itted. He stroked my hair. "But then, after meeting you, I realize that my home isn't really my home. It never was." "Oh?" I peered up at him, curious. "Then where is your home? I mean— shouldn't it be with your family?" He smiled at me. "But what would my family be without you?" He asked softly. "I love you, Adrienne. You're my home—I wouldn't be anywhere without you." I scoffed, ruffling his bedhead. "Yeah, you would. You're a fucking billionaire, Laz, with or without me. We only met because of that interview."

"Yeah, and if I didn't want to murder Juan, I would be thanking him for giving us the opportunity to meet," Lazareth said, his voice slightly hoarse from waking up. "Murder him next time we see him," I sighed, pecking his chest. "Right now I want you with me." "I'm not going anywhere," Lazareth assured softly, rubbing his hands up and down my bare arms, tingles spreading through my veins and to my core. "Neither am I," I beamed. "But jokes aside, about last night, I really am fucking sorry for what I said to you." "I already told you—you don't have to apologize—!" "I know!" I put my finger to his lips, silencing him. "But I want to. I never should've said that you were black-hearted, Lazareth. You're anything but blackhearted. You're sweet and kind, and romantic. God, you have nothing black in you!" "Except for blood," Lazareth grumbled. "Blood is always black, my love. Black with pain, hurt, arrogance, betrayal. It's there, and one day, maybe you'll see it. Love is not red—it's black. Black like the heart that beats continuously—black like the world without sunlight." I stared at him, not sure if I should rebuke him or burst out laughing. Since when did he become so poetic? I mean—I knew that he in his demon form had black blood, but to say that everyone did? That love wasn't red but black? Damn...that was morbid. "Well, I think black is a beautiful color," I replied after a couple of hesitant beats ed. "And maybe you're right—maybe blood is black, but I'd rather live my life thinking it's red if it means being happy, don't you think so?" "You can't be happy when there's so much sadness in the world—your world," Lazareth mumbled. "But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to think so. I guess I'm so used to thinking negatively that I hardly thought anything positive—until I met you, that is." If I could blush harder, I probably would have, but I was pretty sure there was no

color I could possibly go to past tomato blood crimson red. "That's not true," I stammered. "Y-You had Clyde, didn't you?" "Yes, but I don't fuck my own brother," Lazareth smirked. I rolled my eyes. "Thank goodness." I glanced at our clothes laying on the ground, thankful Lazareth didn't rip any in his haste last night. "Well, we should probably get dressed and get ready for the day," I suggested, although I wanted to stay longer in the comfort of his arms. "I'm pretty sure Kath will kill me if I'm late to the girl's day she has planned for us." Lazareth shook his head, although I could see a smirk playing on his lips. "I don't know Kathryn very well, but she seems like the type of girl to have a girl's day planned." He stood from the edge of the bed, steadying me on my feet. "Have fun, okay? Don't worry about anything with Juan or Mike. I'll take care of it." "Oh, I'm gonna worry alright," I snapped, sliding my underwear back on. "But not as much for you more so for them, especially when I get my hands on them again." He grinned. "I'll make sure to stay back." We finished putting our clothes on after that and trudged downstairs. Laura wasn't in the kitchen, but she had left some food for us to eat. Toast, butter, jam, and an assortment of other little goodies I could only dream of eating as a child. Before going to my day out with Kath, Lazareth and I stopped by his company building. He was going to be working from home, so he needed a few of his folders and his computer, and I didn't feel like walking to the mall, so he would be dropping me there instead. When we got to the top floor of the building, Clyde was already there, pacing in front of the door with both of his hands behind his back. He kept twisting his fingers, sweat beading on his forehead, and his eyebrows pinched together. Lazareth and I shared a perplexed glance. What happened? "Lazareth!" Clyde threw caution to the wind and rushed up to his older brother,

grabbing his hands. "I'm so sorry—I couldn't stop him. He has a lawyer...he demanded to see you...I couldn't..." Lazareth put both hands on his brother's shoulders, straightening his back. His eyes were as hard as steel and cold. "Who's here, Clyde? What happened? Who brought a lawyer?" Clyde looked up from his hooded eyes and for the first time in all my days of knowing him, his eyes were bloodshot and practically empty! "It's Juan Alvarez."

~****~

Juan had a black eye. He also had a cracked lip and red streaks along the side of his face. The back of his head was bandaged and one of his eyes—the one with the black eye—was almost nearly closed. He had a sling on his arm and was scowling at Lazareth the entire time, hardly looking at me. The man next to Juan, whom I assumed to be his so-called lawyer, was a slick, slim, and stern-looking man. He had dark black hair pulled back like a Mafia boss and everything he wore was black, matching Lazareth's aesthetic perfectly. He had a briefcase too—just like every lawyer in a Hollywood movie. His eyes slid between Lazareth and me, and when Lazareth finally sat in his office chair after what seemed like hours of glaring at Juan, the lawyer cleared his throat. "Mr. Noir," he said. "My name is Ryland Coffee, head of the Coffee Law Firm." He stuck his hand out. "It's a pleasure to meet you." "You as well, Mr. Coffee," Lazareth replied emotionlessly, shaking his hand. Ryland's eyes dropped towards me. "And who is this?" He asked smoothly.

"My girlfriend," Lazareth replied before I could, sending a bolt of shock through me. "What seems to be the problem, Mr. Coffee?" "The problem?!" Juan jerked, speaking before his lawyer could. "You well know the problem, you bitch! You're the reason I'm like this today!" He turned to his lawyer. "It's his fault! He attacked me! He...he had wings! And dark eyes! And he was huge! He had claws—and...and..." He looked around the room, at his lawyer's raised eyebrow, at my imive look, and at Lazareth's attempt to hide his smirk. "You have to believe me!" He burst. "This man isn't human! He's...he's a monster! He's the devil! He...he..." Ryland took a heavy, deep breath, standing. "I'm trying to get him into a psychiatric clinic." He said, almost regretfully. "I'm sorry for wasting any of your time." "It's no worries," Lazareth assured, raising his eyebrow at me. I tried hard not to laugh, although Juan's crestfallen face was proving very difficult to do so. It sucked to know that Juan was telling the truth, and nobody would believe him because sometimes, the truth is too far-fetched to be accepted as reality. "I will get your tried!" Juan cried as the lawyer left, pushing his face up into Lazareth's, the latter only quirking a brow. "Maybe not for what you did to me, but I will get you deported, you hear?! Back all the way to Israel, where you came from! I have proof—I will get my revenge from you! You took everything away from me! Now..." he cast a glance towards me and I took a step back impulsively. "I'm going to do the same to you." "I'd like to see you try and get me deported," Lazareth sneered, although I knew deep down that Juan was right—Lazareth was still an illegal immigrant, which I was more worried for than what he would do to me. "Oh, I will, alright!" Juan cried cynically. That head injury Lazareth gave him must have done something to his brain. "But I'll also get you tried for something else! Something else!" "Oh?" Lazareth sounded bored. "What?"

"The murder of Ushitry," Juan proclaimed, and for a split second, I saw something wash over Lazareth, like a bucket of pure white paint had been splashed on him. "The murder you proclaimed to save your sister—the same one that brought you here..." he grinned, but it didn't have any humor in it. My heart clenched in my chest and my blood ran cold. His sister...Lazareth's curse... "I'll have you tried for the murder of Ushitry, Sasha! The murder of my brother!"

Chapter 28

"So, you can get deported?" From where he was filling a cup of coffee, Lazareth let out a deep exhale. His back was facing me, but I could see his muscles tensing at my words. I didn't want to ask him about it, but I needed to know. I couldn't keep quiet when everything we had worked hard to build up had threatened to crumble down so quickly. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he took his time filling his coffee cup to the brim, stirring a spoonful of sugar into his drink, although I knew Lazareth didn't drink his coffee with sugar. He was just doing so to buy time. I watched him carefully as he sat beside me at the table. Laura had been given the day off and Clyde was visiting his family in Lazareth's kingdom. There was nobody else in the apartment except the two of us, giving me the peace and secrecy I needed. "The coffee is good," he said suddenly, breaking the canopy of silence above us. "Did you put sugar in it this time?" "No, you did," I stated blankly, raising my eyebrow at him. "But that wasn't the question I asked, Lazareth. Can you get deported? I thought you were a legal citizen?" "I never took the citizenship test," Lazareth said nonchalantly, taking a bite of his muffin. "Nobody asked. Everyone just assumed that we were citizens. But to answer your question, yes, I can get deported." "How?!" I burst. "How does Juan know this? How does he know who you really are? How did he know about Sasha? About the man you killed? How, Lazareth? How?" I could tell that my words were beginning to get to him. His eyes were darkening and his veins were shifting under his skin, just barely keeping his inner demon at

bay, but I needed answers. After our conversation with Juan, it was like I was a blind bat in a cave full of bats. Lazareth smoothed the napkin he had laid on his legs, his eyebrows drawn. "Apparently, my sister's rapist had a brother. I wasn't aware of any of his extended family. I suspected something was off with Juan, but I had no sustainable evidence until yesterday when he proved his inner demon by calling me by my real name." He looked up from peeling an orange. "Apart from you and Clyde, nobody else in your world knows about my real name. To humans, I am simply Lazareth Noir. Eccentric billionaire who keeps to himself and stays safe within his black cage." He shook his head. "You're the only human brave enough to see past my...cold exterior, I suppose. Possibly the only human who has ever tried." "That only answers some of my questions, though," I snapped. My heart rattled in my chest as though it were banging against a cage. How could he be so calm about the situation we were in? He could be deported, for God's sake! Everything he built up could crumble easily! Was he not worried about what could happen to his life's work? "No, I answered all of your questions," Lazareth said, sounding just as cold as he sounded in the office earlier. "I gave you as much detail as I knew, Adrienne. And no, I'm not worried about what can happen to my life's work. I can easily make a new identity and start from scratch. It wouldn't be very difficult." "But that doesn't make Lazareth Noir suddenly disappear," I sneered with a roll of my eyes. I crossed my arms over my chest, just under my sore breasts, wincing and praying Lazareth didn't see. "You have people that care about you, Laz. You can't just run away from your problems." "Well, I don't have much of a choice," Lazareth growled, his dark eyes slicing through me irritably. "It's easy to get evidence of my immigrant status if you previously lived in my kingdom. There aren't many laws placed there. Anybody can get any papers they wish. Also—" he shrugged. "Before meeting you, I was not a very...organized man, I suppose you could say. I kept my documentation papers on my desk most of the time. Juan was a regular visitor when I first started Olympian Deals. The papers went missing one day." He broke off, scowling. "Well, now I know where they went."

"Then we have to get them back!" I exclaimed, jerking out of my chair so fast that it knocked over behind me. "Maybe we can find some way to trick him into giving them to us? Or maybe we can steal them? Or...or..." I was breathing harshly, or maybe I wasn't even breathing at all. I didn't know very well. Lights flashed in front of me and the world started to spin. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to control myself, and when I opened them, I was on the ground, lying flat on my back with my arms and legs spread out like a starfish. "Adrienne!" Lazareth's panic-stricken voice shouted from...somewhere. It was difficult to tell. Lights flashed in front of me, blinding and bright. My mind knew I had to get up, but my muscles resisted. It was like there was some supernatural force pulling me into the ground and keeping me from getting up. Warmth encomed me suddenly, and with eyes half-open, I could see Lazareth between flashes of blurriness. He held me close to him, rocking me gently, whispering garbled nonsense into my ears. I tried to answer him, but my mouth was clamped shut, as though it had been stitched closed. "Shh..." he murmured quietly, his voice slowly beginning to become understandable. "You're okay, Adrienne. You're safe. I've got you...I've got you..." "I'm sorry," I croaked, flexing my back muscles to get out of his hold, but ultimately succumbing to his arms. "I didn't mean to...I just wanted to help..." "I know. I know you did, my brave girl," Lazareth cooed, pecking my cheek. "Don't worry about what Juan will do to me. As long as he doesn't get his hands on you, I know I'll be okay." "I can't help but worry," I gasped, swallowing the bout of dizziness that threatened to take over me again. "I love you, Lazareth. I don't want you to go...I don't want anything to happen to you...tell me he won't be able to take you away from me...tell me..." I was able to see clearly now—gazing up at Lazareth's pained, dull eyes clouded with worry and the wrinkles on his forehead. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, but no words came out like he was a fish out of water.

I won't cry. I won't cry, I repeated over and over again even as the tears streamed down my cheeks. He was so quiet—so resigned. For the first time in nearly an entire year of knowing him, Lazareth Noir was speechless. Silently, he wiped my tears, kissing the spots where they had left marks. I felt his heartbeat against mine, sturdy and strong. Why couldn't I be like him? Why did I have to show my weakness? Why couldn't I stay strong when he needed me, just like he was when I needed him. "I won't let him take me away from you, Adrienne," Lazareth managed softly, his voice crackling through the blatant lie. "He'll have to kill me if he wants to take me away from you..." "He would do that if there was no legal system," I sniffled. "You killed his brother, after all. An eye for an eye." "Not helping," Lazareth grumbled, a small, tentative smile curling along the edges of his lips. "But nothing will happen to us. I'll make sure of it, Adrienne. I belong to you." I looked up at him from the hood of my eyelids, sniffling again and trying for a smile, despite my heart squeezing in my chest. Every fiber in my body knew he was lying—our time together would be coming to an end with Juan's interference. I didn't want to sound dramatic, but it was just how dire the situation felt. Nobody was dying, but it was like my whole world was collapsing. So I put on a smile, for him, nodded, and kissed him sweetly, cherishing the taste of his coffee lips on mine. "And I belong to you, Mr. Noir."

~***~

Later in the day, when Lazareth left to go speak to some lawyers he managed to snag meetings with, I trailed to the library, my old safe-space.

It hadn't changed much since I quit. Laurel and Oliver weren't working at the front desk like usual when I got there, which either meant that they had quit or that Madame Doniya had fired them. The library certainly looked cleaner since the last time she had left them in charge, which I think was my last day working there. The musky smell of books was heavenly—a sense of normalcy and comfort in the turbulent world I had shoved myself into, despite the warnings from everyone around me to stay away. I couldn't help myself, though, especially with a man as addicting as Lazareth. I shook my head, scowling as I made my way to the young adult section of the library, which was still where I had last left it. Lazareth is busy right now. You aren't going to think about him, Adrienne. You are going to relax, find a good book, and read quietly. No Lazareth, no Juan, nobody! I scolded myself, skimming through the spines of the books until my fingers caught onto the text I was looking for. "Adrienne?!" I froze, a bundle of stones dropping in my gut. I knew that voice. I knew it very well. It was the same voice that haunted my dreams for nearly a month after a certain confrontation. The same voice that I had once bantered with and played with. "Michael," I managed carefully, turning to face my ex-friend slowly. I narrowed my eyes, hoping they had the same, blank expression Lazareth had when he met new people. Mike shuffled on his feet, twisting his fingers in front of him. He tried for a smile, although it looked a bit awkward. "Nice to see you again, Adri." "I can't say the same for you," I snapped, inwardly cursing myself and my luck. Why me? Why when I just wanted some peace and quiet to think, did Mike of all people have to show up? "Understandable," he shrugged. "I was an asshole to you, and you don't have to be listening to me right now, but I sincerely apologize. My intention was never to hurt you, Adri. I just...I loved you, a lot. And I was jealous of Noir that—!"

"Save it," I said tartly. "I already heard your apology over mail, and I'm sorry, but it won't be easy for me to forgive you. You assaulted me, Mike! An apology isn't going to cut that debt." "I know," he said softly. "But it was worth a shot, wasn't it?" I glared at him, and he sighed. "Look, Adrienne, I'm truly, very sorry. I wasn't thinking straight. I was under the influence of alcohol. I...how can I make it up to you? Seriously. I want your friendship back. Nothing more, nothing less." "I find that hard to believe," I snipped. "After what you did." I harshly grabbed my book from the shelf, just meaning to brush past him before he spoke again, his words making me pause. "I heard about the lawsuit against your boyfriend," he said breezily, his arms probably crossed smugly over his chest. I straightened my back, gritting my teeth together. Damn the paparazzi. "So what? It's not like you can do anything about that." "And if I said that I could?" Mike prompted. "My dad's influential too, Adri. I can help, if you'll let me." "I don't need your help," I snapped, a bit too loudly than I would've liked. Eyes darted to me all at once and sheepishly, I bent my head, waiting a couple of seconds before glowering at Mike's arrogant grin. "We can deal with this on our own. I won't make the same mistake of trusting you again, Mike." He shrugged, my glare doing hardly anything to perturb him. "Suit yourself, Adrienne. But if you ever need my help in the trial—" he winked at me. "You have my number." "Like I'll ever need it," I seethed, although I'll it, I was a little intrigued as to how he would be able to help me. Mike wasn't as powerful as Lazareth, but even he still had a hefty amount of power, being a CEO's son and all. He could do something... No, Adrienne, stop it, my mind snapped at me. He can also easily use you again. Lazareth may not be going on trial for Juan's brother's murder, but he is going on trial for being an illegal immigrant. You don't need any more illegal business

under your sleeve, especially from the likes of Mike. "That's true," I said out loud. Nobody was around me in the section I was in. I wouldn't care if they heard me or not, anyway. "I don't need Mike. Lazareth will be fine...we'll find a way...someway...hopefully."

~***~

Lazareth wasn't at home the same time I was, so the house was pretty dark and quiet. All the blinds were closed and all the lights were off. It looked more like a haunted house than a luxurious penthouse, in my opinion! Flicking the switch on, I felt a wave of fatigue crash into me as I tossed my shoes to the side of the door, uncaring if they landed in the rack or not. Trudging to the kitchen, I fished out a bottle of water and my medication bottle. Lazareth wasn't home, yet. He wouldn't know I had taken more medicine. And if I did, what was the worse thing that would happen? It wasn't like I was overdosing or anything. It was only an extra pill or so...every day. I took the pills dry, too lazy to uncap the water bottle in the end. I felt them rattling down my throat and bouncing from side to side as they traveled down towards my stomach. "Ugh," I groaned, shaking my head and sticking my tongue out. "I really shouldn't do that. Bleh, it tastes so...plastic-iy." Shaking my head again, I pulled my phone out from my bag, seating myself at the kitchen island and scrolling through the news apps I had ed a while ago. Lazareth's lawsuit was on the front page of every news outlet, just I had expected, and I quickly scrolled past the article. After a while of scrolling, texting Kath (who gave me multiple texts filled with capital letters and an impeccable choice of words), I suddenly began to feel woozy, like the world around me was spinning, but faster and faster, much harder than when compared to my panic attacks. My heart went from a jog to a

sprint in my chest, rattling dangerously against my ribcage. "What...?" I gripped my heart, the beating stronger, and abruptly, I gasped, air knocking out of my lungs. I retched, gripping blindly for either the countertop or air—I wasn't sure. The kitchen spun violently and I gasped for air, but my body refused to take any of it. The last thing I was something clattering and spilling onto the ground before I finally took a tumble and succumbed to the welcoming, warm darkness.

Chapter 29

Everything was white. For the first few minutes after I awoke, I thought for sure I had died and gone to heaven. My body felt lighter than it ever did, like the burden of my life had been released and the pressure was finally gone. My throat was dry, possibly dryer than the Sahara Desert! My limbs felt strapped to something soft and hard at the same time—what it was, I wasn't sure in the beginning. In a way, I now understood in a sense what Sleeping Beauty felt like when she had just woken up from 100 years of sleeping, although I had to wonder how she didn't feel dizzy at all or sick. Maybe it was because she didn't want to give Prince Charming a bad impression, but if I were her, I wouldn't have cared, honestly. Once my sticky eyes finally cleared and I got a better view of the place I was stripped to, I realized that I wasn't in heaven (unfortunately) but rather a hospital —or maybe asylum. I wasn't sure. It felt like there was a storm in my mind, my brain drowned in a foggy sea. Memories of the night before were unclear, but there, like a glitching T.V screen replaying over and over in my head. Soft breaths and groans brought my eyes towards the hunched, dark figure by my bedside, pale wispy hands clutching a monitor with an IV leading into my veins. The face was blurry for a few moments, but after shaking my head a couple of times and squinting my eyes, my heart leaped in my chest when I realized that it was none other than Lazareth snoring beside me. To be completely honest, though, for the first few seconds of getting a good look at him, I hardly recognized Lazareth! His complexion was paler than I'd ever seen it become and his eyes had dark circles underneath them. His eyelids were shut, but they weren't relaxed. They were wrinkled and hard, anticipating every movement around him. His fingers clutched a monitor beside me, the machine beeping every now and then. The clothes he wore were wrinkled and a bit smelly. From the looks of it,

he hadn't showered or changed for a long time. I debated waking him up, but it seemed that in the end, I didn't really have to decide. Once nurses and doctors began to flood my room, Lazareth shot up on the bed, his eyes red and bloodshot, but alert. They flickered to me, widening slightly. His lips parted for a brief moment like he wanted to speak, but a raspy female voice cut him off. "Good morning," a tall, brunette woman with slim features spoke from beside me, forcing me to turn my head against the tubes wrapped around me to face her. "How are you feeling, Adrienne?" "T-Tired," I managed to croak, shifting. "And...hungry? Thirsty? I...I can't..." "It's okay," she cut me off, smiling, and silently, I thanked her. "We'll get you some food right away. Once you've eaten, we can talk about what happened and see what we can do, alright?" "Wha...what did h-happen, t-tho-ugh?" I asked hoarsely as she was retreating towards the door. "I—I don't anything..." She turned back to me, a frown replacing the serene smile on her lips. "We'll get to that soon. Eat first." She nodded towards Lazareth, something ing between them before she left the room. Silence drifted over us for what felt like hours after. Nurses and other doctors continued to check on me, giving me pills and different bottles of water and other liquids. Some were sweet, some were sour. They all tasted different. At one point, a male nurse brought up some food for me to eat, but since my hands were practically taped to the bed, Lazareth had to hand-feed me, which I wasn't completely complaining about if he'd stop looking like he wanted to murder someone. When I finally finished my food and the nurse activity decreased, I cleared my throat several times, making sure my windpipe was clean before speaking. "What happened, Lazareth?" I asked. Lazareth's somewhat calmer eyes flickered to mine from the T.V, his lips

pursing. He stayed quiet for a few minutes, as though contemplating his answer, before he let go of a heavy sigh, switching the serial we were watching off. "You overdosed on your medication," he said, his voice nearly unrecognizable. "When I got home you were unconscious on the ground. I-I didn't know what to do—I thought you were dead. I called 9-1-1 and they took you to the emergency." He broke off, staring at me right in my eyes. "Why? Why did you do it, Adrienne? Was it me? Did I do something? I—I...I thought you were gone...I got so scared...I didn't want to lose you...God, I'm just so happy you're okay..." "I didn't know I'd make you so worried," I whispered, blinking back the sudden, unexpected onslaught of tears. "I—It wasn't you, Laz, it never was. I just...I've been overdosing before I met you...I just wanted to end my life...I'm not necessary...nobody would miss me—!" "Don't you dare fucking say that!" Lazareth exploded, almost jerking up from his seat. The machines around us shook. "Don't you dare speak shit, Adrienne. You are necessary. You came onto Earth for a reason! God damn it! What do you mean nobody would miss you? What about your brothers? Your parents? Kathryn?" He broke off, choking. "What about me?" And for the first time in almost an entire year of knowing him, Lazareth Noir, stubborn, cold billionaire, and CEO of Olympian Deals broke down—crying. "I thought you were gone!" He sobbed, where I could only stare at him uncomprehendingly, unsure what I could do to make him feel better. "I thought you had died, Adrienne! I thought I would never see your beautiful eyes again. I thought I would never hear your laugh or see your smile! I thought...I thought..." he broke off, swallowing thickly. My heart squeezed, either from the medicine or from the amount of vulnerability in his words, I wasn't sure. Trembling, I reach for his hand, giving it as hard of a squeeze as I could. "I'm sorry," I said hoarsely. "I'm sorry, Lazareth. I wasn't thinking...I love you...I'm sorry...please, don't hate me..." "Hate you?" He repeated, intertwining our fingers. His eyebrows crossed and he frowned, reaching to cup my cheek. "Adrienne, love, I would never hate you.

Sure, you scared the shit out of me, but I wouldn't hate you for that. In fact, I should've realized how deep in the dark you were in. I suppose I was so obsessed with getting home that..." he looked away, ashamed. "That I didn't think about you." "Hey, it's okay," I murmured, trying for a smile. "I'm okay now. And I promise I won't do that again." I sighed. "I just wanted some release...a way to get this burden of being useless off my shoulders, you know?" "Adrienne, you are anything but useless," Lazareth assured warmly, pressing his forehead against mine. "And you are never a burden to me, or anyone, so stop thinking that you are." "That'll be a hard thing to do," I grumbled. "My anxiety's always been a burden, I feel." "We'll work on it, together," Lazareth murmured. "I'm not making the same mistake I did before." "You never made a mistake, Laz," I sighed. "It was my fault. And can we please not talk about it anymore? I'm probably already in deep shit with the doctor." "I wouldn't word it like that," a familiar, female voice spoke teasingly from the doorway, bringing both Lazareth and my attention to her. "But I do want to make sure that it doesn't happen again." She smiled, taking a seat beside me after checking a couple of my vitals on the screen. "I'm Dr. Nandini Rampal. I'm a psychiatrist and I've been assigned to your...case, Adrienne." "Oh," I flinched. "Um...what do you need to know? I should apologize first...um..." "Don't apologize!" Dr. Rampal shook her hands. "These are things that are out of your control, Adrienne. I understand that. It's all the chemicals in your brain, and sometimes, they're difficult to control." "They...are..." I gaped. "How did you know?" She smiled. "I am a psychiatrist, after all." She glanced at her clipboard. "I'll have some other doctors coming later—basic regulations on what you need to do now, and new medicine." She looked at Lazareth. "For safety reasons, we will be

giving your husband your medicine and he will distribute it to you daily." Husband...I looked towards Lazareth, who only shrugged sheepishly and gestured back to the doctor. "So," she tapped her pen on her file. "If you're okay with it, Adrienne, can you tell me how you're feeling?" "Um...relieved, I guess," I sighed. "I dread to think what would have happened if I had actually succeeded...I didn't mean for it to go this far...I only wanted some pressure relief." Lazareth was oddly silent, but Dr. Rampal nodded. "Nobody's blaming you, Adrienne. We all just want to help you get better. I understand completely what you're trying to say. The brain sometimes can get a bit overwhelmed, especially with the influx of medicine." She continued to speak for about an hour or so, mostly to me, but sometimes looking at Lazareth and directing her words to him, to which he would only give a slight tilt of his head or a short nod. It just made me feel even more horrible to think about what I had put him through. How long had I really been out? And was it this bad that I had to be monitored? "I said I was your husband so they would let me stay," Lazareth said softly when Dr. Rampal left. "I didn't want to leave you alone—I had already made that mistake once. I wasn't about to do it again." "It's alright," I croaked, shaking my head. "I'm glad you're with me. I don't know why, but I feel a bit...lighter now? I hate to think that it took a suicide attempt to do that, but..." "What happened, happened," Lazareth said. "We can only learn from it, not waste our time on it." He glanced at the door. "You're at risk of attempting suicide again. They're going to monitor you until tomorrow. After, you can't be on your own until they say so." Just my luck, I sneered. More babysitting. Great. And here I thought my life would go back to normal. "I'll make it as normal as possible," Lazareth added quickly. "I've taken off from

the office to stay home with you—granted, that took a lot of changing dates and meetings to do so, but it will be worth it. I don't want you hurt again." "I trust you," I said simply. "You're right, Laz. I have too much here to lose. I can't just let it go...as much as I wanted to..." I looked towards the door, then shook my head. "But what happened, happened, and you're right. I can only learn from it." "Yeah...we can..." "Speaking of not being on my own..." I glanced at the phone poking from Lazareth's pocket. "How long have we been here? Does my family know what happened? Are they okay?" "We've been here for about a week," Lazareth explained. "You were in and out of consciousness and they were going to put you in a medically induced coma today if you didn't wake up. Your family doesn't know what happened. Would you like me to tell them?" "No," I decided after pausing to think for a few moments. "I don't want them to worry more than they already do for me. Maybe I'll tell them once I get better, but right now, with all the family things going on, I don't want to bother them." "You won't be bothering them—you're their daughter," Lazareth grumbled. "But okay. I'll keep quiet for now. If I gets too serious, I'm telling them. And not because I don't want to keep you. I do, but they're your blood. They have a right to know what's happening to their sister and daughter so that they can help." "Alright," I agreed. "I know they'd help in a heartbeat. I just want to try and control this on my own first, and with you. If I can't, then I'll tell them." He nodded, and as he reached for the food beside my table to help feed me again, I caught sight of one of the IVs sucking blood from the cervix of my arm. Through the tube, the reddish, romantic color of blood almost looked black, just like Lazareth's when he transformed. "Red is the color of romance," He scoffed, feeding me a bite of chicken. "They don't realize it, idiotic humans." "Realize what?" I asked, accepting the bite.

He stared at me. "Everything becomes black at one point, Adrienne. Right now, red is the color of romance, but soon, black, the true color of blood, will be the new romance."

Chapter 30

To say the court hearing went poorly was an understatement. Now, I'll it, not everything horrible happened in that small, overly furnished room, but most of my day did get ruined because of it. Lazareth was called for his court case early in the morning, which was a great start to a worsening day. He wanted me to come with him, and I, of course, wasn't about to sit at home like some damsel in distress. Dr. Rampal had given me the thumbs up to go home weeks ago, and although Lazareth did keep me on unneeded bedrest for one more week, I was glad he wasn't making me stay home during this important day. I had never been to court before, so I wasn't sure what to wear, even though I'd only be sitting on the sidelines. I juggled between comfy and stylish before finally deciding on a red frilly blouse and some thin black jeans that I ed wearing once to Gryffin's attempt for emancipation. Lazareth looked as slick as ever in his business attire. Living with him for so long had almost made me forget that he didn't go to work in a lax shirt and jeans. His shoes were polished and pristine and his eyes were emotionless, only flickering for a second when he saw me. Clyde was waiting impatiently in the lobby of Lazareth's penthouse, pacing back and forth in front of the sleek mobile with his hands behind his back. His eyes darted to Lazareth for a split second, and maybe it was the sunlight, but I was pretty sure I saw both of the brother's eyes turn pitch black, then baby purple, then back to their original color in a mere matter of seconds. "What was that all about?" I hissed to Lazareth as we slid next to each other in the car. "He's making sure I know he has my back in the trial," Lazareth whispered, intertwining our fingers and kissing my pulse. "Nothing will happen, my love. I'll make sure of it."

I didn't say anything but nodded, hoping he wasn't reading my mind. I was aware that he could feel my fear radiating from me, but I didn't try and mask it. I was getting pretty tired of hiding. What if he does get deported? I thought. What will happen to his empire? All his hard work? How can he prevent himself from leaving? "I don't care about my empire," Lazareth said softly, so softly I almost didn't hear him. "I only care about you, Adrienne. Nothing will take me away from you, I promise that. I promise it..." He kissed me, slow, tender and sweet, indifferent if Clyde saw or not. He released so much ion in that car ride to the court that I almost believed him. I almost fell for his reassurance that we would be okay. Almost. When we reached the court, I sat on a bench in front of the judge, a few feet away from where Lazareth stood with his lawyer. A few of the other audience and jury participants glanced at me but quickly turned away when I looked at them. Strange, I thought, surveying the crowd as the judge began. My eyes flickered over a bunch of bobbing circles of black, blonde, and red until I caught a familiar, brunette hairstyle. Mike! I resisted the urge to gasp, a scowl contorting on my lips. How dare he...I told him to leave me alone! What part of that did he not understand? Is he trying to make me give an outburst in court, cause that probably wouldn't end well for Lazareth? He caught my eye just as someone rose to speak, winking at me, causing me to miss what Juan's lawyer had said. It definitely wasn't the lawyer he had brought with him the first time in Lazareth's office. This man was possibly straighter than the previous lawyer, his hair slicked back and his fingers practically unmoving over the papers he handed to the officer for the judge. With every word spoken and every artifact ed, my heart sank lower and lower in my stomach until the jury was called to reconvene. I wasn't even sure why there was a jury there for a deportation issue (thankfully, Lazareth wasn't

being tried for attempted murder since Juan didn't have any proof), but when an outburst erupted in the court, I shot to my feet, scanning the crowd just as two of the police officers dragged an impeccably young-looking man out of the door, Mike trailing behind shortly after with a smug grin. "What happened?" I asked Lazareth after the court released them for recess, rushing up to him. He grabbed me, pulling me closer to him as we trailed to the car, silent for a couple of breathless moments. "The man you saw dragged...he was underage," Lazareth said quietly. "They have to do the trial again with a properly aged person. Why there was even a jury in the first place, I'm not sure, but..." he sighed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry...I'm just...thinking..." "Don't be sorry," I murmured, kissing his cheek. "As you said, everything will be okay." God, lying to myself now too. What have I become! I groaned to myself. Who am I kidding? That trial went poorly. There's no way he'll be staying in America... The realization didn't hit me as coldly as I thought it would. Maybe I had already accepted that fact before the court. Deep down, I knew it was game over, I just hadn't fully been able to comprehend it until now, seeing Lazareth's completely broken, defeated expression. He wasn't the type to it defeat, and I knew even now, as we rode home, he wouldn't tell me that he was losing—that he'd have to leave me. When we got home, and after Clyde and Lazareth shared a few hushed words, Lazareth and I walked silently to his bedroom. He stripped me gently, caressing me like he had done the night we first made love. Periodically, he became desperate, slamming into me over and over wordlessly. Nothing was said during what felt like hours of ion seeping through us. Hours of desire, desperation, need, wanting, all pouring out of us and creating a puddle around us. And once we were done, with Lazareth snoring soundly beside me, I knew what I had to do. Carefully, so I wouldn't wake him, I crept out of bed, slinking towards the kitchen. I didn't know if it would work—would it count as a sacrifice? It didn't matter. If I could get him home, before the government did, then I'd do it. Better

I do it than those law-abiding people who call themselves the holders of justice. I picked a long, thin knife from the drawer full of different knives Laura used when cooking or Lazareth and I used for eating. My bag was on the kitchen table, and after a little digging through, I found the printed copy of the contract Lazareth had sent me nearly a year ago, the same contract he told me would send him back to hell once he found a blood sacrifice. Trembling, I set the paper on the table and smoothed it over a couple of times. It didn't specify where I had to cut, exactly, but I figured I'd slit my skin by my pulse. It was what they did in history, probably because it was closest to the heart. Unless they slit the throat. Just as I rose the knife to the pulse on my wrist, ready to let the blood fall on the paper— "Adrienne?!" I didn't even turn, choking back a sob. "Don't try and stop me, Lazareth. This is for your own good." "Own good?!" Lazareth roared, dashing in front of me and grabbing my wrist. His wings floated around his back, not exactly fully revealed, but not hidden either. "This isn't for my own good, Adrienne! There are other ways—!" "Like you going back to Israel?!" I snapped, jerking my wrist out of his grasp, and surprisingly, he let me. "No, that's no better, Lazareth. You won't be able to stay in America. They're going to send you back, no matter what." "Then we'll do long-distance," Lazareth said, his breathing harsh and panicky. He ran a hand through his hair. "We'll Skype or...face time...We can visit each other...please...please don't..." I stepped away, still clutching the knife, and he took a step closer, his eyes teary and his lips trembling. Lazareth was crying. I took a deep breath, trying to hold it in despite being aware that I too was crying. "I'm sorry, Laz...I love you...so much..."

"I love you too, Adrienne," Lazareth said hoarsely, holding my cheeks in his hands, subconsciously gripping the hand holding the knife. "I love you so much...I don't want to leave you...please..." "I'm sorry," I looked away, his hard thumbs wiping my tears, his lips pecking over my own mouth, my cheeks, my eyelashes. My eyes flickered up to him. His eyes were closed. Now was my chance... Bracing myself with eyes shut and teeth clenched, I stabbed the pulse at my wrist, crying out and dropping to my knees as the droplets dripped onto the contract right where the line for a signature was. The blood twisted and curved into my full name, shimmering on the paper before the entire contract disappeared in a flash of light. "No...NO!" Lazareth looked brokenly at me, his fangs shooting out from his lips. Still gripping my wrist and crying out again, I looked up at him through my blurry eyes, sobbing uncontrollably. His wings jerked from his back, fading into the air. His eyes, now dark green, and his skin, now baby purple, flashed and flickered, burning along his skin. He roared, loudly, reaching for me with a crackled cry of my name. It was hardly recognizable, but I knew he was calling for me. I wanted to call for him too. I wanted to reach for him, to hold him, to be in his arms again, but I couldn't. My hands would only through him like air. It was when his shoulder and above were only visible, flickering like a broken light in the air, that I looked up, clutching my bloody wrist as I rose, my eyes hardened just like his, alight from either his own body light or the light glowing from the brand he gave me. "You're right, Lazareth," I chuckled dryly, gazing at him, then at my arm. "Blood really is black."

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A girl who loves to write romance, werewolves, and billionaires! Waiting to be swept off her feet by an Alpha! Read more at Shreya Solaris’s site.