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“I have a client,” I quickly say, and he frowns. Swallowing hard, I continue, “She received a package last night, and it left her…broken.”
“A package?”
I groan inwardly at the complete disbelief in his tone. He clearly thinks I’ve lost my marbles if I bother him with such stuff. And despite knowing how much he despises lies, I can’t be honest with him right now. “I think I should start from the beginning.”
He glances at his platinum watch that must cost more than I make in several years. “You have ten minutes.”
Somehow, his hostile mood hurts me, scraping at my soul that’s used to rejection, but I expected a man who everyone hates based on looks alone to be kinder to me. I must have been wrong. Even for Octavius Reed, you don’t deserve his time if you are a nobody. “Thirteen years ago, there was a serial killer called the Church Killer. He would barge into the middle of a wedding, trap everyone inside, and then torture them for hours before killing everyone.”
Run, Isla, run.
Digging my fingers into my thighs, I ground myself in the present and ignore my mom’s terrified scream echoing in my ears.
“I don’t understand what it has to do with me.”
“He had one surviving victim. A fifteen-year-old girl who watched him kill everyone dear to her one by one.” My throat grows tight. I place my hand on it and rub it, exhaling heavily because talking about this only brings me misery. “He spared her. He hurt her, but he still kept her alive.” Something passes over his face, but it’s gone so quickly I don’t have the chance to examine it. “He was wearing a mask so she could never recognize him. The police kept her identity a secret.”
“Yet you seem to know a lot about her.”
Ignoring his cold remark, I lick my lips and continue the lie that tastes bitter on my tongue. It’s the only weapon on my hands. Otherwise, this powerful man would squash me. “The victim hired me as a private investigator.” Since he stays silent, not even freaking blinking, I decide to put all my cards on the table. “He contacted her.” I fish inside my jean pocket and take out my necklace, placing it between us, and it clangs soundly on the perfectly polished wood. I removed the family picture earlier. “It was the necklace she wore on that day, the one he stole. And on the box, on the said package…he wrote your name.”
A loud gasp escapes me when he gets up abruptly, his chair falling on the floor behind him, and on instinct, I jump up as well, moving backward as he advances on me, fury written all over his features. The air sticks in my lungs when my back connects with the wall.
Octavius cages me in, his splayed palms trapping me between his muscled chest and the wall while his scent twitches my nose, and unfamiliar sensations and fear travel through me in waves, shrinking this room where only one powerful force remains.
Him.
“What are you doing?” I hate how my voice trembles a little and shake my head, lifting my chin and pushing at his chest, but he stays unmovable. “Step away.”
“Never do that again, Isla.” I freeze when his hand lands on my collarbone, burning my skin and sliding upward until he wraps it around my throat, his thumb brushing against my pulse, and our gazes clash. “Never,” he repeats, leaning closer, our lips inches apart, and my heart beats so wildly in my chest that even he must hear it.
Too stunned to think rationally about how insane this whole encounter right now is, considering we barely know each other. I’ve told off guys in the past for less, let alone something like this, I ask, “Never do what?”
His voice drops a few octaves, a wicked energy cracking the tension around us, and his hand flexes on me, making me gasp because the pressure becomes tighter, almost cutting off my oxygen supply. He steps closer, pressing his chest against mine, and instead of pushing him away, my fingers curl on his shirt. “Lie to me.” I swallow, and goose bumps break on my skin when he glides his thumb up and down my pulse. “If you ever do that again, you won’t like the consequences.” He leans closer, his lips bushing over my cheek as he moves to my ear and whispers right into it. “I don’t forgive it.” He breathes me in, and I clench his shirt tighter despite the threat lingering on the edges of his tone.
“You know,” I whisper. Unexplainable relief washes over me at the realization that he’s aware of my little secret.
Lying to him was unbearable. Another thought I decided to ignore because thinking about it too much would lead to some stupid and difficult realizations.
“I know everything about you, Isla.” Scorching heat assaults me, and I gasp when his hold on me becomes even tighter. All I can focus on is his calloused fingers controlling my air supply and my heart ringing in my ears. “Always remember that. You have no secrets from me.” These words should full me with fear. Instead, they urge me to know the meaning behind them, to understand if the same burning sensations envelop him as well as drive me insane and make me forget about everything in his presence.
Even if I know better.
Even if I know girls like me don’t ever get men like him; they stay in our unattainable dreams.
“Okay.” A ripple shakes him at my surrender, and I arch my neck a little bit when he eases his grip, clearly finding pleasure in my response. “I won’t lie to you.” My hand slides upward, slipping into the V opening of his shirt and connects with his hair-covered chest, his heart matching my beats and a low growl echoes between us.
Later, I’ll think about my behavior and how no one should react to a man this way when you barely know him yet feel the right to touch him in the most intimate way.
Or how his words awaken a storm inside me, sounding almost like an obsession of sorts and how instead of running away from these psychotic confessions…I crave to delve deeper and discover what else hides behind his confident and harsh mask.
“Octavius—” I jerk when the rough texture of his scarred cheek touches mine, and he stills at this, his muscle growing rigid. Instantly, his heat is gone when he steps back, breathing heavily while I’m glued in place. All I can do is stare at him while my entire being cries out to him, not knowing what to do with the fire consuming me from head to toe.
Only to shrink inside when his words break the hypnotizing moment between us and demonstrate to me in full glory that I might be the inexperienced fool in this passion.
Octavius Reed, though, isn’t.
“Stay away from me, Isla.” My hand fists at this, and I quickly cross my arms so he won’t notice the effect his words have on me.
