Ivan drove in silence and the low hum of the engine the only sound filling the space between us.
I stared out of the window, watching the city blur by, my thoughts just as chaotic. The conversation with Lucius played on a loop in my head, each word tightening the knot in my stomach. What had I done? Was I really trading one devil for another?
I could feel Ivan's presence beside me. Every now and then, I'd catch him glancing at me, like he wanted to say something but was holding back. My hands were trembling in my lap, and I clasped them together, hoping to steady myself.
"You're quiet," Ivan finally broke the silence, his voice soft, hesitant.
I didn't look at him. "What am I supposed to say?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know Lucius can be… intimidating. But you don't need to be afraid of him."
I scoffed. "Intimidating? He's playing a game with my life. How am I supposed to feel?"
Ivan's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "He wouldn't hurt you, Seraphina. You don't have to be afraid of him. He's a law-abiding citizen. You've seen what our world is like, but Lucius is nothing like Judas."
"Why?" I turned to him. "Why wouldn't he hurt me? It's not like I mean anything to him."
His jaw clenched, green eyes narrowed and his knuckles turning white against the steering wheel. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer, but then he spoke, his voice low and rough. "Because I love you."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath caught in my throat, my pulse quickening. "What are you saying? You can't… be in love with me."
"I can't help it," he muttered, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "But I am."
"No," I shook my head, panic rising in my chest. "Please, don't. I don't… I don't love you, Ivan."
He didn't flinch, didn't even look at me. "I know. But I can wait. I'll wait forever if I have to. And I'll do everything in my power to get you out of Judas's clutches. You don't deserve this, Sera. You're too kind, too good. You don't deserve this hell."
His words felt like knives, cutting through the confusion swirling inside me. I stared at him, my chest tight, my mind racing. How could he say that? How could he love me when I was a mess, when I was caught between two devils, drowning in lies and fear?
"Ivan, you don't know what you're saying. This isn't-"
"I know what he's capable of, Seraphina," he cut me off, his voice hard. "I've seen it. I know what he did to my sister."
His sister. My stomach twisted, nausea rising in my throat. I remembered Lucius's words, the horror in his eyes when he spoke about his little sister. "Your sister… Did he really…"
"Yes," Ivan said quietly. "He did. And if you don't believe me, I can show you the autopsy reports."
I couldn't breathe. My fingers dug into my palms as I tried to process everything, tried to understand what was happening, but my thoughts were a jumbled mess. Ivan's words, Lucius's threats, Judas's cold gaze-they all blurred together, suffocating me.
Ivan reached over, his hand covering mine, warm and steady. "You believe me, right?"
"I… I don't know…" The words slipped out before I could stop them, my voice trembling. I didn't know what to believe anymore. Everything felt wrong, twisted.
And then, before I could react, before I could even process what was happening, Ivan leaned toward me, his lips brushing against mine.
It was brief. A moment. A flash of warmth and pressure, then it was gone. I jerked back, my heart slamming against my ribs, shock rippling through me.
"What are you-"
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his hand still holding mine, his gaze intense. "I didn't mean to-"
My wife eyes blinked. Once and then twice.
"No," I yanked my hand away, my voice shaking. "Don't. You can't do this. You can't kiss me. I… I don't want this."
He flinched as if I had slapped him, and for a second, I almost felt guilty. But no-he had crossed a line.
"I'm trying to help you, Seraphina," he said quietly, his voice pleading. "I want to protect you."
His eyes were sincere, but the strange tension in my throat was coiling. I couldn't trust myself. I couldn't do this. I didn't know what to say to him. What to say to myself. Everything was chaotic, and Ivan couldn't be in love with me.
Love… no. I did not deserve love. I, out of all the people, couldn't handle it.
Without saying anything, I turned and walked quickly toward the building, my heart raced as a sudden chill ran down my spine, my mind spinning. I could still feel the ghost of his lips on mine, and it made my skin crawl. What the hell was happening?
I thought… what the hell did I even think? Lucius would want something informative next time. And I was still contemplating. My family. First I needed to think about them and then myself. Their lives were more valuable.
Tomorrow I'd give Judas's medical reports to him. And as soon as this mess was wrapped up, the sooner I'd be able to get my freedom back.
And those pictures… nausea and disgust crawled down my stomach… all the evidences were pointing at Judas. How could he do this to a sixteen years old? How could a man be so brutal? So cruel to the point of raping and killing a innocent girl.
I entered the elevator and pressed the buttons.
Though the more I thought of it, the less sense it made. But those pictures… Lucius wouldn't lie about something like this, would he?
I pushed open the door to the apartment building, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My thoughts were a tangled mess, pulling me in every direction. Lucius's manipulation, Ivan's confession… I couldn't handle it. Not now. And not ever if it kept going that way.
I rushed inside, my feet carrying me to the dining room. My chest was tight, my throat dry, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I just needed to get away. Away from Ivan. Away from all of it.
Once I reached my door, I fumbled with the door knob, my hands shaking so badly I could barely rotate the knob. Finally, the door clicked open, and I stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind me.
The night was dark and so was the room. I didn't bother to turn the lights on.
I pressed my back against the door, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold floor. My heart wouldn't stop pounding. My thoughts wouldn't stop racing.
What was I doing? How had I gotten here? Caught between two men who wanted to control me, manipulate me, for their own reasons. And Ivan… He said he loved me. But love wasn't supposed to feel like this. It wasn't supposed to be suffocating, like chains wrapping tighter and tighter until I couldn't breathe.
I buried my face in my hands, a sob threatening to break free. I didn't know what to do. Every step forward felt like walking deeper into a trap I couldn't escape.
But one thing was clear; there was no way out of this.
A sudden, bone-deep chill slithered down my spine, and my eyes darted to the window. It was wide open, curtains fluttering like phantoms in the icy breeze in the dark.
But... I closed it. Didn't I?
My heart hammered against my ribcage, and doubt crept into my thoughts. Had I forgotten? With shaky limbs, I pushed myself off the ground, my fingers trembling as they traced the wall, desperately searching for the switch. Once. Twice. On the third try, I finally flicked it. The room exploded in harsh light, casting stark shadows across the walls.
I turned toward the window, half-expecting to see nothing, just a gust of cold air. But something was off-far too cold for how long it had been open. My breath came in shallow gasps, misting the air.
Before I could take a step, a blood-curdling scream tore from my throat, involuntary and raw, as my gaze froze on the figure standing just before the window.
I froze.
My heart pounded in my ears as the scream tore from my throat once again, and I stumbled back, eyes wide, throat dry.
Terror gripped me like a vice, clinging to me like a second skin, refusing to let go.
My gaze locked onto his broad shoulders, the slithering tattoos on the back of his neck shifting like they had a life of their own. He wasn't facing me, but I didn't need him to. I knew exactly who he was.
Death never knocks, and neither does the devil.
He stood impossibly tall. Muscles rippled beneath his black shirt, barely containing the brutality and menace coiled within. His aura was suffocating, pulling the air from my lungs as if the very world bent around him. Handsome-no, that was an understatement.
He was beautiful in the most wicked, sinful way, a face sculpted from temptation itself.
The kind of beauty that led men to ruin and souls to damnation.
A face too perfect to be touched by the light.
A face that belonged to darkness. That ruled in darkness. And that thrived in it.
The another gust of wind rushed in, blocked by his huge frame, and his hair jostled with it. The curtains flapped violently, and somehow I knew the storm was coming. Snowflakes fell upon him. And rest entered the vicinity of the room falling gracefully on his foot.
They say angels fall, but demons rise. But he... he was a god among them.
He was the embodiment of everything forbidden. A walking nightmare wrapped in flesh, handsome beyond any salvation, and more dangerous than sin itself.
And worse of all he was here to take my soul this time.
This… this couldn't be real.
Judas shouldn't be here.
Two weeks. He said he'd be in Italy for two weeks. Why was he here?
I pressed myself harder against the door, my breaths coming in shallow, panicked gasps. I grasped the door knob and then his head moved, just slightly, slow turn of his neck as if he could sense my fear.
My stomach churned, and my hands stilled over the cold metal.
I wanted to run, to scream again, but I was paralyzed, the kind of terror that strips away all logic, all movement.
He turned slowly, almost deliberately, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. His face was as I remembered-sharp, cold, unforgiving. But it was his eyes that sent another wave of horror crashing through me. Dark. Black, bottomless pits that sucked the air from the room, void of any humanity. His lips were pressed into a thin, cruel line, and in the light, I saw the glint of steel.
A gun.
He held it loosely, like it was nothing more than an extension of his arm. The metallic gleam was deadly, but it wasn't just the weapon that terrified me-it was the way he looked at me, like I was already dead.
I took a step back, my heel bumping against the door as I fumbled for the handle, desperate to open it, to escape, but my fingers wouldn't cooperate. My hands were slick with sweat, trembling uncontrollably.
"Where were you, little bird?"