Chapter 35 Cold
"You don't have to sign right away tesoro, take your time". He spoke, rising from his seat and coming towards me "And when you do indeed decide to sign, just let me know" he paused behind me and I felt the heat radiating off him as my cheeks bleached a pink tinge.
"You will be mine" he purred in my ear and I felt a shiver take over my body at his deep baritone.
With that he walked out of the study, leaving me all flushed and hazy
~
JASMINE
“Ray! Ray!”
I called out as I hurried toward the kitchen, my footsteps quick and uneven against the marble floors.
“Hey—hey,” he chirped, appearing around the corner with a cookie halfway to his mouth.
“I need your help,” I said immediately, snatching the cookie straight out of his hand.
“Heyyy!” he whined, staring at his now-empty fingers in betrayal.
“Oh, hush up and come along,” I said around a mouthful of chocolate, already turning toward the elevator and motioning for him to follow.
“What’s this about?” he asked, trailing after me suspiciously.
I stopped suddenly and turned to face him. “I need you to take me back to my home, Ray.”
“What?!” He practically shrieked. “Why? You haven’t even been here three weeks yet and you already want to leave?”
I laughed lightly, shaking my head. “I’m not moving back in. Relax.”
His tense expression eased slightly. “Then why do you want to go back?”
I inhaled deeply, my fingers curling into my palm. “I need to get something I left behind.”
“No way.”
He turned on his heel and walked straight back into the kitchen.
“What?!” I huffed, stomping after him. “What do you mean no way?”
“By no way, I mean no way,” he replied smugly, leaning against the island. “It’s not safe for you out there. Paparazzi are still circling like vultures. They’d eat you alive—like a pie at a market sale.”
He chuckled at his own analogy before sighing.
“And besides, I can’t take you anywhere without Damien’s permission.”
I froze.
Was he serious right now?
Damien didn’t own me. I didn’t need his permission to retrieve the last thing my mother left behind. I didn’t need anyone’s permission.
I felt something sharp twist in my chest.
“I’ll figure it out myself,” I muttered.
Before he could stop me, I stormed out of the kitchen.
I shut my bedroom door behind me and leaned against it, heart racing.
Fine.
If Ray wouldn’t help me, I’d do it alone.
I couldn’t let Damien—or anyone—dig into parts of my past I’d buried for a reason. Some things were better left untouched.
Forgotten.
I paced the room, glancing toward the hallway every few seconds. It had already been two hours.
Two whole hours.
“What could he possibly be doing in there?” I grumbled under my breath, glaring toward Ray’s room like it had personally offended me.
Finally—footsteps.
My breath caught.
I rushed to the door and pressed my ear against it, listening as footsteps echoed down the hallway and faded into the distance. I waited another minute. Then another.
Carefully, I cracked the door open.
Empty.
I slipped out quietly, shutting the door behind me and glancing left and right like a criminal on the run.
I did a tiny victory wiggle before forcing myself to walk normally toward the elevator.
My palms were sweaty by the time I stepped inside.
The doors slid shut, and I watched the numbers descend, one by one. Only then did it hit me—this place was enormous. At least six floors, maybe more.
I’d barely seen two.
Focus, Jasmine.
The elevator dinged.
Ground floor.
As the doors opened, everything shifted.
The air felt heavier. Colder.
\-
I stepped into my apartment slowly, the door creaking open like it was protesting my return.
The sound was too loud.
Too sharp.
Before I could react, the door slammed shut behind me with a force that echoed through the space. I jerked violently, a chill racing down my spine as my heart leapt into my throat.
My breath hitched, and instinctively, my arms wrapped around my body as if I could shield myself from whatever unseen thing had followed me inside.
The silence afterward was deafening.
I took a hesitant step forward, then another, my eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. My foot brushed against something soft, and I looked down to see a cushion discarded on the floor. My chest tightened as I lifted my gaze.
The apartment was wrecked.
Pillows lay scattered like casualties. Cushions overturned. A chair was knocked on its side. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in slivers of moonlight that cast distorted shadows across the walls. Everything felt wrong—violated.
It looked like the aftermath of a storm.
Or worse.
My stomach churned as a familiar unease crawled up my spine. This place had once been my sanctuary, the only thing that ever felt remotely like home. Now it felt hollow.
Cold. Like a stranger had walked through my life and torn pieces of it apart.
I swallowed hard and shuffled toward the wall, my fingers brushing along it until I found the light switch. I flicked it on.
The bulb sputtered. Flickered.
Then died.
I sighed shakily, the sound brittle. Of course. The electricity bill must have expired—it had been overdue for weeks. I hadn’t expected to come back. I hadn’t planned on ever returning.
Yet here I was.
Alone.
I turned toward the staircase, every step heavier than the last. My skin prickled as if unseen eyes were tracking my movement. I kept glancing over my shoulder, my pulse pounding loud enough that I was sure it echoed through the walls.
“Get a grip, Jasmine,” I muttered under my breath.
But fear doesn’t listen to reason.
At the top of the stairs, I pushed open my bedroom door, and the familiar scent hit me instantly. Lavender. Old books. Faint traces of soap and memories I’d tried desperately to bury.
My chest ached.
This room had held me together when everything else fell apart.
I crouched down, my knees protesting as I reached beneath the bed and pulled out the small brown wooden box hidden far back against the wall. Dust coated its surface, but the intricate carvings along the edges were still beautiful—vines etched with care, curling delicately into one another.