Chapter 43 FORTY-THREE

Chapter 43 FORTY-THREE
J A D E

The next morning, I quietly went into the bathroom, took my bath and dressed up for work. 

Markov was still sleeping in the couch, and I wanted to avoid any kind of conversation with him. When he wakes up, he will fix the door lock and finally leave me for good.
Luck was on my side, because he was still asleep when I walked past him and left my apartment. I was relieved. I was finally free from his clutches.

I walked to the diner, the morning sun warm on my skin. I felt a sense of hope, a sense of renewal. Today was a new day. A day without Markov. A day to start over.

I walked into the diner, the smell of coffee and pancakes filling the air. Amy was already there, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, a bright smile on her face.

"Hey," she said, her eyes sparkling. "You're in a good mood today."

"I am," I said, a genuine smile on my face. "I'm just... happy to be here." I couldn’t tell her that my ex had stalked me home and ended spending the night on my couch. That was just a story for another day.

"Well, we're happy to have you," she said, handing me an apron. "Now, let's get to work. We have a busy day ahead of us."

We got started with our day, and before I knew it, it was noon. The diner was buzzing with activity, the noise and the chaos a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my own mind. This work was stressful, especially when you have a bossy and bitchy manager, but it kept my mind away from him.

"Jade, table seven needs their check," Amy said, her voice a little strained. She was juggling three tables at once, her movements efficient but hurried.

"Got it," I said, grabbing the check and heading towards the booth. A woman sat there, alone, sipping a cup of tea. She was older, maybe in her late forties, with a severe face and sharp, intelligent eyes that seemed to see right through me. She was dressed in a simple black dress, her silver hair pulled back in a tight bun.

She looked… familiar. But I couldn't place her. Maybe she was a regular I hadn't noticed before.

"Here's your check," I said, placing it on the table with a smile.

"Thank you," she said, her voice a low, cultured purr. Her eyes met mine, and I felt a strange, unsettling chill, a sudden coldness that had nothing to do with the diner's air conditioning.

I was about to walk away when she spoke again. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"Yes," I said, a little taken aback by her directness. "I've been here for a few months."

"It's a tough city," she said, her gaze unwavering. "A dangerous place for a young woman all alone. You never know who might be watching. Who might be waiting for you to let your guard down."

My blood ran cold. Her words were too specific, too pointed. It was more than a simple friendly warning. It was a threat. A veiled, subtle threat that was all the more terrifying for its quiet delivery.

"I... I can take care of myself," I said, my voice a little too high, a little too tight.

"Can you?" she asked, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. "A pretty little thing like you? So full of life. So much... potential. You'd be a prize for someone. A real prize."

She leaned forward, her eyes boring into mine. The scent of her perfume, a strange, cloying mixture of lavender and something else, something old and musty, like damp earth and decay, filled my senses. It was a sickly sweet smell that made my stomach turn.

"It would be a shame," she continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "if something were to happen to all that potential. If it were to be… extinguished. Like a candle in a storm. You’re so vibrant. I’d love to have you as a pet. You’d make a perfect pet."

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, wild drumbeat. I wanted to run, to scream, to get as far away from this woman as possible. But I was frozen, my feet rooted to the spot, my body paralyzed by a fear that was almost suffocating.

"I have to go," I choked out, finally finding my voice. I turned and fled, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold the tray.

I rushed back to the counter, my face pale, my body trembling. Amy was busy with a customer, so I took a moment to lean against the counter, taking deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm the frantic racing of my heart.

"What did she mean by pet? What the hell?" I whispered to myself, the words a choked sob. I looked over at the booth, but the woman was gone. She had vanished as quickly as she had appeared, leaving behind only a half empty cup of tea and a lingering, unsettling scent.

I thought Saffra might have being the woman from the city I ran away from, but now, I didn’t know who is who.

I was shaken to my core. This had to be a coincidence. It had to be. But it felt too real, too deliberate. Was this Markov's witch? Was this Saffra? The woman didn't look like a witch, not in the fairytale sense. There was no pointed hat, no warty nose. She looked like an ordinary, albeit intimidating, woman. But there was an aura of darkness about her, a malevolent energy that was undeniable.

"Jade, are you okay?" Amy asked, her voice laced with concern. She had finished with her customer and was now looking at me, her brow furrowed with worry.

"Yeah," I said, forcing a smile that felt like a grimace. "I'm fine. Just a little dizzy. It's hot in here."

"It is a bit," she said, her eyes still on me, not quite convinced. "Why don't you take your break now? Go have your lunch. I'll cover for you."

"Are you sure?" I asked, grateful for the escape.

"Of course," she said, her smile warm and genuine. "Go on. Get some fresh air."
I didn't have to be told twice. I practically ran out the back door, into the alley, the cool air a welcome balm to my fevered skin. I leaned against the brick wall, my body trembling, my mind a chaotic mess.

Markov's words came back to me, a chilling echo in the silence. "She's dangerous. She's not like me. She's... pure evil."

I had dismissed him. I had called him a liar, a manipulator. But now, I wasn't so sure. The woman in the diner... her words, her presence... it all felt wrong. It all felt dangerous.

I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking. I had told him to leave. I had told him I never wanted to see him again. But I was scared. And he was the only one who might understand.

I found his number in my call log, my finger hovering over the screen. I was about to press the call button when I stopped myself. What would I say? "Hey, I know I told you to get out of my life, but I think your imaginary witch just threatened me at my workplace"? He would think I was crazy. Or worse, he would think I was finally coming around to his way of thinking, and he would never leave.

I couldn't call him. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. I had to handle this myself. I had to be strong.

I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. I would finish my shift. I would go home. I would lock the door. And I would forget about the strange woman in the diner. It was probably just a random creep. This city was full of them.

I walked back into the diner, my head held high, a mask of calm composure firmly in place. I had to get through the rest of the day. I had to pretend everything was normal.

But it wasn't normal. And it never would be again.

The rest of my shift was a blur. I moved through the motions, taking orders, refilling coffee, clearing tables, my body on autopilot while my mind was a million miles away. Every dark haired woman, every customer who lingered too long, sent a fresh wave of anxiety through me.

When my shift finally ended, I let out a sigh of relief. I said a quick goodbye to Amy, who gave me a concerned look but didn't press me for details. I was out the door and walking down the street before she could change her mind.