chapter 37

THEA

You'll let me have you.

The words fades into… nothing.

I should run.

Every cell in my body is screaming it. Run. Get away. Pretend he didn’t just say what he said. Pretend his eyes didn’t flash crimson in the sunlight like some devil stepped out of the shadows.

But I don’t move.

I can’t.

Because my heart is louder than the voice of reason—and it’s pounding out his name.

Ezra.

His name used to taste like tension. Like bitterness coated in lust. Now it tastes like danger and desire—two poisons I’ve already overdosed on.

I stare at him. At the man—no, thing—that I’ve kissed. Wanted. Almost trusted. Stupidly.

“A vampire?” I whisper again, because saying it out loud makes it real. It solidifies the crack running down my carefully constructed world.

He nods once. No denial. No apologies. Just calm, ruthless truth.

And that... unnerves me the most. But everything starts to snap in place. 

The way his eyes flashed red at the gala. The way he always closes the distance between us in seconds. How he draws blood anytime he kisses me.

God. I've only read about shit like this in books.

“I should slap you,” I mutter, arms wrapping around myself, suddenly feeling naked even with a long sleeved shirt and knee-length pencil skirt.

“Probably,” he says softly.

I hate how his voice sounds like it’s wrapped in velvet. I hate that I don’t hate it enough.

“Is that why you’re always... cold?” I ask.

Ezra almost smirks, like he expected something more dramatic. “That’s one of the reasons.”

I exhale shakily, leaning back against the car. “I’m losing my son, Ezra. My life is already unrecognizable. Now you’re telling me I’m in some… gothic fever dream?”

“I’m telling you the truth,” he says, stepping back just enough to give me space but not enough to feel safe. “Because you deserve it. No more lies.”

I laugh bitterly. “That’s rich coming from a man who’s spent weeks lying by omission.”

“I didn’t think you were ready.”

“And now I am?”

“No.” His voice lowers. “Now I have no choice.”

The silence between us simmers.

“I should walk away,” I whisper more to myself than to him.

“But you won’t,” he says.

He’s right.

God help me, he’s right.

Because underneath the horror, there’s this pull. This bone-deep ache that wants him close, even now. Even knowing what he… is.

And the worst part?

It’s not even fear that paralyzes me.

It’s curiosity.

“You said I should let you have me?” I ask, not trusting his previous answer. I want to hear it again. Clear. Undeniable.

His gaze darkens, something dark swirling behind his eyes. “Everything.”

My breath catches in my throat. “There's nothing left of me anymore.” I whisper.

There's really nothing left of me anymore. Just some broken shards of me I tried to pick back up. And the façade I used to make up for it.

“You already had me when I was drunk that night of the event.”  I add.

There's a beat of silence.

Then, he chuckles. His hand grazes my chin before he tilts my head up, my eyes clashing with his. “I didn't fuck you that day, sugarplum. You were drunk and I can't do that to you.”

That damned nickname.

My cheeks burn. “I was…” I gulp before shaking my head.

No, I… I shouldn't be here getting hot while I forget that I'm trying to win my baby back, fight for my son.

Ezra as if noticing the change in my demeanor lets out a sigh and steps back, shoving his hand in his pocket.

“What do you think about my offer, sugarplum?” 

“No.” I say, my voice coming out snappier than intended. “I can only consider your help if you change what you want.” I add, even though all the nerves in me were screaming for me to accept his offer.

At this point, I want to accept any help I can get especially from someone as powerful and influential as Ezra Harrington. But the part that doesn't sit well with me is being his personal slut just because I'm cornered and horny.

He shrugs. “Well, if that's what you want then. Just remember, like you've said, the pictures of us together are against you. In normal fucked up societal standards, the court doesn't favour women like you.”

He check his wristwatch. “Ohh, also, that water bellied judge, what's his name again?”

“Fenwick.” I say, gritting my teeth. That corrupt sexist bastard.

“Yes. I heard he's a misogynist.”

I know he is. That's why the entire proceeding favoured Sebastian in the first place.

God, what should I do?

Ezra steps closer and grabs my chin again, his thumb presses against my lips.

I bite back a moan as he slowly massages my bottom lip.

“When you are ready, you know where to find me.’

With that, he raises his thumb in his mouth and sucks, eyes still holding mine. Then, he smirks and turns to his waiting car.

His hand were on the knob when he glances at me over his shoulder, “ohh, and yeah, your resignation letter is not approved. You get a free leave of a week to settle everything. If I don't see you at work, you'll be sacked, and it'll be announced to the press.”

My hands ball into fist as he enters his car.

He leaves me standing there, angry, aroused, and more confused than I've ever been. And worst? Parts of me still wants to chase him, still wants to say yes.

“Fuck you Ezra!”