Chapter 8 Stepped On His Ego
Evelyn’s POV
My breath quickened. Lorenzo was now a few inches away from me, but it felt like he was no longer in the room and I hated that my body still wanted him back.
The edge of his lips curved into a dark smile, before he walked back to me.
“Talk to me right now,” he ordered, pulling me hard into his frame. My breasts pressed against his strong chest, feeling the muscles shift beneath his skin.
“Nothing,” I lied.
I couldn’t believe that I was almost at the point of begging him not to stop. The feeling…. his hands inside me, his mouth around my nipple, everything was new to me. No one had ever touched me that way.
During my time in high school, I barely talked to boys. I was so focused on getting good grades so I could secure a future that would earn me enough money to pay Daisy’s medical bills.
She was born autistic, and whenever she isn’t placed on her medication, she experiences severe trauma episodes. After I graduated from college, I made a decision, opened an orphanage, and I now work as a part-time nurse so I can earn enough to care for the children.
It has been difficult, though.
But that has always been my dream.
Since the day I lost my parents, I took it upon myself to take care of kids who didn’t have anyone to cater for them, because I knew what it felt like growing up with just my uncle, who never once played the role of a family in our lives.
The only boy I ever had the slightest chance to be close to was Nolan. We saw each other more like cousins, but he was Uncle Charles’s adopted son. I once had a crush on him when we were little until he left for Mexico to be with uncle Charles' divorced wife.
No other man had ever been this close to me.
Lorenzo’s hands cupped my ass, making sure I felt his straining cock, pushing hard against his pants.
“You just told me yes…” he whispered against my neck. “Which means you wanted me to continue.”
I tried to push him away, but his iron hand gripped mine.
“That meant nothing. It was a weak moment.”
He laughed out loud.
“Weak moment?” he repeated. “Why do you keep lying to yourself? Why can’t you admit it?”
“I’m not admitting any shit!” I spat, my nose flaring. “There’s no way you’ll touch a woman in that way and expect her to stand still like a dry wood!”
“I’m human, Lorenzo,” I breathed, anger and desperation tangled in my voice. “I have feelings, but that doesn’t mean you get to control them. It doesn’t mean you can force me to want you.”
As if my words stung a part of him, he quietly pulled away, distancing himself from me. His eyes went cold.
“Change into something more comfortable,” he said. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
My eyes flew open.
Tomorrow?
What was going to happen tomorrow?
Before I could ask, he was already at the doorway, the thud of the door hit my eardrum. He didn’t even look back.
It was as if he was fighting back a storm.
He was gone, but I still felt bad. Maybe I was too harsh on him, or maybe he was just angry that I had stepped on his ego.
Finally, the room settled into a long silence. My gaze moved around, taking in the details for the first time.
The massive, milky-white curtains draped over the windows, hiding the clouds, soft and elegant, closing off the world outside. On the side stood towering flower vases.
A rich scent drifted through the room, musky and intense, filling my lungs with a strange warmth that made my pulse race. It wasn’t just fragrance. It was him. It was his power.
And that was when it dawned on me that the room had been dark all along. I hated darkness because that was when I saw Lorenzo burning my parents alive. Ever since then, I would only crawl to Aunt Nana before I could get any good sleep.
I wanted to switch on the lights, but that might make Lorenzo see that I wasn’t sleeping, there was no way I was going to close my eyes in this strange place with the devil himself.
Instead, I searched for something comfortable among Lorenzo’s wardrobe and found one of his big polos, which I wore before going to bed.
My face stayed fixed on the ceiling the whole time, unblinking, a series of thoughts running through my mind.
Would he be returning again?
Were we going to share the same bed?
The thought of sleeping on the same bed with him sent coldness through my spine.
And in an unknown moment, the room went blank.
I jolted from the bed, my chest pounding too fast. As I scanned the room, the realization mocked me.
It wasn’t a dream. Everything that happened last night was real. There were no directors to cut me off from the role, neither was it a movie I could simply switch off.
My hand grazed over the space I had left for Lorenzo in case he returned. The sheets were still neat, which only meant one thing. He hadn’t come back.
But where could he be?
Curiously, I jumped down from the bed. Without thinking, I found my way out.
The hallway stretched like that of a gigantic castle. I stopped at the first door I saw, fingers hovering over the knob before I finally pushed it open.
It was a study room. Though the outside was bright, the inner room still felt dim, with little sunlight reaching a small corner.
Everything inside was strange, spell books, crystals, and magical relics scattered around.
Before I could move fully inside, a soft voice called my name from behind.
“Ms. Martins.”
My body froze.
Who could it be? Am I somewhere I’m not supposed to be? Am I about to be punished?
Finally, I turned around only to see an old woman with grey hair and wrinkled skin smiling at me as though I were her long-lost daughter.
I tilted my head. “Who….who are you?”
She lowered her shoulders, taking two steps closer.
“My name is Patricia. I’m popularly known as Ma Pat,” she said with a soft smile. “But you can just call me Pat.”
“Oh…”
My eyes darted around the empty hall.
“I was sent by Lucifer to tend to you this morning,” she continued.
“Tend to me? In what way?”
“I don’t need anybody’s help. I can find my way. Who knows, I might not even be staying that long.” I questioned.
She broke into a faint laugh. “He was right.”
I lowered my head, confused. “Who was right?”
“Lucifer,” she said softly. “He told me that you would try to go against everything I say.”
My jaw clenched. He had already started discussing me with his workers.
Pat didn’t let me speak. “Ms. Martins, please, if you don’t mind, I’d love to invite you to breakfast.”
I rubbed my arms, a shiver running through me from the morning cold. “I don’t think I’m hungry,” I said, raising my head. “And you don’t have to address me with that, you can just call me Evelyn.”
Her smile remained professional. “Yes, Ms. Martins, But I still insist you eat this morning, because the journey ahead will be a long one.”
“What journey?” I snapped.