Chapter 22

The next day dawned with a heavy burden on my shoulders. I knew the dangers that lurked outside, and the unsettling feeling of being watched lingered in the back of my mind. As I prepared myself for school, I couldn't shake the memories of the harrowing chase, the glass flying, and the tires screeching loudly in my mind.

I shook my head, trying to clear the haunting images, and looked at myself in the mirror. It was time to face the world, to put on a brave face despite the fear that gnawed at me. I took a deep breath, attempting to gather my strength, and stepped out of my room.

As I strutted downstairs, I made sure not to reveal any hint of my inner turmoil to the maid or anyone else in the house. I had to appear composed, even though my mind was racing with uncertainty. I couldn't afford to show weakness; my stalkers might be watching.

Reaching my car, I said a silent prayer, hoping my plan would work. I knew the risks of driving alone, but I had no other choice. With a determined resolve, I got into the car and started the engine.

As I drove toward the university, I couldn't shake the feeling of being followed, though I couldn't be sure. Every car that passed by, every pedestrian on the sidewalk, felt like a potential threat. I kept my senses alert, scanning the surroundings, and pushed back the nagging paranoia.

My mind often flashed back to the accident, reliving the terrifying moments. But I forced myself to concentrate on the road ahead, determined not to let fear cloud my judgment.

I stepped into the university campus the next day, strutting in confidence making sure no one thought I was scared. I pretended that the glances thrown my way were because of my beauty, rather than the turmoil I was hiding inside. I had to stay strong and show no signs of weakness; I couldn't let them see the fear that still lingered beneath the surface.

As I walked through the campus, I could feel the curious eyes on me, but I ignored them, maintaining a composed expression. Inside, I was a wreck, but on the outside, I had to appear untouchable.

Reaching the classroom, I scanned the room, looking for him. But to my surprise he was nowhere to be found.

Raphael is usually early

Perhaps he hadn't decided to come to class today, or maybe he was busy with other matters. Either way, I couldn't deny the tinge of relief that washed over me at not having to face him again so soon.

I found a seat towards the middle of the class, making sure not to attract too much attention. I settled in, trying to focus on the lecture, though my mind was still preoccupied with the events of the past few days.

"I can't believe I would ever find myself doing this," I whispered to myself, reflecting on the decisions I had made. Hiring a professional assassin was not something I ever thought I would consider, but fear had pushed me to extreme measures.

As the class progressed, a guy sitting nearby glanced at me and winked, trying to flirt. Normally, I would have ignored such advances, but today, I was in no mood for it. I gave him a death glare, and he quickly faced forward, intimidated by my response. A small smirk crossed my lips as I regained a tiny sense of control.

As the class continued, I couldn't help but steal glances at the door, half-expecting him to walk in at any moment. But just as I had thought, today was different. Raphael Adams did walk into the classroom, but to my surprise, he didn't glance my way like he usually did. Instead, he looked straight ahead, paying attention to the class, like any ordinary student.

The sight of him acting so uncharacteristically left me perplexed. I needed to talk to him about the help I required but he seemed distant and uninterested. The fact that he was the one person I needed to seek help from only added to my frustration.

As the lecture came to an end, I quickly gathered my belongings, determined to catch up with him outside. But he walked out of the classroom faster than he usually did, as if he was trying to avoid me. Panic and added frustration surged within me, and I picked up my pace, chasing after him.

"Raphael!" I called out, my voice echoing through the hallway, but he didn't seem to hear me. He continued walking, not even sparing a glance in my direction. Frustration bubbled up inside me, but I couldn't afford to let him slip away.

I pushed myself harder, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to keep up with his pace. He was almost at his car when I finally caught up to him, panting slightly from the effort.

Seeing that he was about to slip away I halted right in front of his car to prevent him from leaving. He looked at me, annoyance etched on his face, but I couldn't let that deter me. I needed his help, and I wasn't going to back down.

"What do you want?" he asked coldly, his eyes avoiding mine.

Somehow I was able to get him to talk much to my own surprise, especially after yesterday.

I took a deep breath as I found myself sitting across from Raphael in the coffee shop. Twiddling my thumbs nervously, I struggled to find the right words to convey my situation to him. This was not a position I ever thought I would find myself in – seeking help from someone I loathed.

But as I looked into his eyes, something was different. He wasn't the usual arrogant and dismissive person I knew him to be. Instead, he seemed attentive, almost intrigued by my presence.

Summoning every ounce of courage, I sat up straight, reminding myself not to show any weakness. I began to explain the dangerous situation I was in, the stalkers, the threats, and the need for protection…the murder. His eyes widened as he absorbed the gravity of my words, and for once, I saw genuine concern on his face.

When I finally finished speaking, there was a moment of silence, and I braced myself for his usual mocking and refusal to help. But then, he leaned in, smirking cockily, and the words that came out of his mouth caught me off guard.

"Be my mistress."

My heart skipped a beat as I stared at him, stunned and instantly provoked by his audacious proposal.

How dare he ask for such a thing after everything he had done in the past?

I felt anger bubbling up inside me, and without a second thought, I stormed outside, unable to tolerate his arrogance.

But as I stepped out into the street, the feeling of being watched returned, and a sense of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next. I knew I needed his help, as much as I hated to admit it. The alternative was to face my stalkers alone, and that was a risk I couldn't afford to take.

Reluctantly, I swallowed my pride and fear and walked back into the coffee shop. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my pride felt wounded by the thought of agreeing to his ultimatum.

But I had no choice.

I returned to the table, trying to hide the turmoil inside me.

His smirk widened, and he leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself.

My stomach churned with a mix of emotions – anger, frustration, fear, and a strange sense of vulnerability. I had made a deal with the devil, and I knew that navigating this arrangement would be dangerous and complicated.

It was done

I had made a deal with the devil and I am now about to dance in the flames