Chapter 4 Pray To The Devil
Celene's POV
"Maria, turn off your alarrrmm... Turn it offfff... it's too damn loud."
There was a blinding headache blooming right behind my eyes and yet the shrill sound of the phone ringing wouldn’t fucking stop.
It was coming from somewhere close. Too close.
"Maria… Put off your alarm."
I wiped my eyes, still heavy with sleep, and took a second to look around.
That’s when my heart practically dropped into my stomach.
This was not my room. I had spent four full days of my vacation in my room to know that this large, heavily expensive room was not mine.
I shot up from the bed, instantly alert, searching the massive bed I was sprawled on like a crazy person. My fingers fumbled until they landed on the vibrating object jammed into the back pocket of my jeans. It was my phone. Still ringing. Still in my jeans.
I got the phone out of my pocket and then rushed to pick the call when I saw the caller ID. ‘Better Half’… Maria. Fuck.
“Girl!!!!! Please tell me you did not oversleep and forget about your flight back home. We have an exam this afternoon, remember?” Maria’s voice practically screamed through the phone.
I could understand if I had just overslept, but that wasn’t what was happening now, was it? How the hell had I ended up here? In this place?
The room was massive and classy. Like something out of a billionaire’s fantasy novel.
I pressed the phone tighter to my ear, as I searched my brain for anything. A fragment, a face, a voice, even a damn smell. Something, anything!
But nope. I got only a sharp headache in my skull. Fuck!!! Why did I have to go clubbing on the very last day of my vacation? How the hell did I get here?
“Cee? Are you there?” Maria’s voice cut through again.
“Yeah… yeah, I’m here,” I mumbled. “I’ll just get ready. Uhm, Maria… I’m very disoriented right now. I swear I think I’m lost. I’ll figure it out and call you back.”
“Wait, what—”
I ended the call before she could start panicking. I didn’t have time to explain. Hell, I couldn’t even explain it to myself. I needed to get out of this room, find my stuff, and somehow make it to the airport in time.
It was 10:20.
My flight was for 11.
I bolted out of the room without even fully thinking it through. The penthouse doors shut behind me with a soft click as I sprinted barefoot down the hallway. Thank God I’d booked a room in the same hotel the club was attached to.
All I had to do was take the elevator down to the fourth floor, grab my bag, and pray the universe didn’t hate me because if I was late for my exams… my late mother would kill me, and my alive father would have no choice but to bury me.
"Jesus please... I'll feed all the poor people in my street if you let me get to New York in time. I promise!!"
I know I shouldn't have been drinking last might. But after just four days of rest, that fucker tagged me AGAIN to a picture of an engagement ring!
The next thing I knew, I was at the club, chugging alcohol like water and dancing like I didn’t care if the floor swallowed me whole.
And then...nothing. I had no other memory.
Everything was just… black.
In hindsight, I shouldn’t have traveled alone. There was no way in hell Maria would have let me take drinks from a stranger. . And honestly, I was insanely lucky that whoever had brought me to that room hadn’t tried anything. My clothes were intact. Even my belt was still tight. Nothing was out of place.
Physically, anyway.
Mentally? I was spiraling.
I didn’t know if I should feel grateful to the stranger who’d left me untouched… or terrified that I’d spent the whole night completely at their damn mercy.
But I didn’t have time to think about it.
The airline had a strict non-refundable policy for late passengers, and I had zero cash left. If I missed that flight, I was done for.
I finally got a cab, practically threw myself into the back seat, and begged the driver to fly. I checked the time. 10:50 a.m.
I had just ten minutes. Just ten minutes to board, to check in, to sit, to just fucking breathe.
I slumped back in the seat, heart pounding like it wanted to explode. I needed a miracle.
And right now…
Miracles felt impossible.
The cab screeched to a halt right outside the airport. I jumped out before it even came to a full stop.
My throat burned, my feet ached, but I didn’t stop. The digital clock above the check-in counter showed 10:58. Two freaking minutes. I had two fucking minutes!
I sprinted up to the counter like my life depended on it...because, honestly, it did.
"Flight 377 to New York," I said to the woman behind the desk, slamming my ID and booking confirmation on the desk. "I have a ticket. I’m already late. Please, I need to get on that flight."
She spared me a quick glance and then clicked a few things on her keyboard, brows furrowing as she read the screen.
Her expression shifted. It was subtle, but I saw it. I knew that face, and I knew it meant bad news.
"Ma’am," she said, voice tight but polite. “Unfortunately, this flight has been overbooked, and your seat has already been reassigned to someone else."
I blinked.
"I’m sorry, what?"
"Your ticket wasn't confirmed at check-in, and per our policy, your seat was released ten minutes ago."
"No. No, no, no. Please." My voice cracked. I leaned in, lowering mine to a near-whisper. “Listen…I had a really bad night, okay? But I got here. I’m here. I need to be in New York today. I have an exam. A final. If I miss it, I fail. Like, literally, I’m done…I can’t retake it. End of the road, goodbye college, goodbye future, goodbye sanity.”
She gave me a sympathetic look.
“I understand, but there’s nothing I can do. The next available flight is tomorrow morning at 6:40.”
“Please. I’m begging you. Isn’t there anything? A jump seat? A cancellation list? A miracle maybe?” She shook her head, more annoyed than apologetic now.
"I can put you on standby for the next flight, but again, no guarantees." I felt the frustration climbing into my throat and then be coming tears.
I could not cry here. I would not cry here.
I took a breath and clenched my teeth. "You don’t understand. I need to get on that plane. Today. I will fail my class if I don’t show up.
She stared at me for a long second. Then typed again while I prayed. I prayed to a God and His angels. I prayed to Buddha, I prayed to Shiva. I prayed to the moon, sun and stars while tears ran freely from my eyes.