Chapter 3 - Like an image out of a bedtime story

JULIA’S POV

I stopped in my tracks when I heard him mention murdering someone. Am I about to witness a plot of murder I thought. Chills ran down my spine and my head felt light, my knees wobbled, and my mouth suddenly became dry as I became aware of how stupid I had been to wander around when I was this drunk. I should call someone I thought fumbling for my bag.

“Have you ever heard that it is disrespectful to eavesdrop on someone’s conversation,” there was a pause. “And not once but twice, pretty little thing?”

My bag dropped. That was the hot stranger’s voice and it was closer than it was seconds ago, so close… because he had covered the distance between us and now, he was talking to me. He had a remote with him and just like that, my cover was gone because he had switched on the light at the threshold of the door where I stood and was now taking me in and being very obvious about it.

Fuck me!

I looked up slowly taking in his Armani pair of impossibly black shiny shoes, black slacks that encased calves that stretched endlessly making me realize just how tall he was. Of course, I knew the man was tall, I have been watching him for hours but now that he stood in front of me, towering over me and I was looking up to meet his gaze, the difference in our height was just mind-blowing. The sheer size of him dwarfed me.

I opened my mouth to say words while elevating my head all the way so I can peer into his face.

Regardless of how long I had been staring at him and soaking his features in everything about him was still stunning: Red perfect cupid bows, smoldering turquoise eyes that were more green than blue when you come closer and those cheekbones and jawline should be outlawed.

His black hair was casually piled on top of each other, some of them plastered on his forehead and I could tell that although he looked like a dream, he had been putting his hand through his hair which means he was stressed by the situation he has been talking about on the phone despite his cold tone.

“What? Pretty little thing!” I asked in shock eying him. Although he looked like a god, I haven’t forgotten that he is a terrible person. He had made that girl cry. “Did you just call me a thing?” I rolled my eyes deciding to ignore his choice of words and how objectifying they were. “I will be on my way if you don’t mind, thank you.”

“Thank me?” he scoffed and I love the sound of his annoyance so much, it was almost insane. “Why were you watching me?” he moved closer to me and my heartbeat ricocheted. I could feel his breath against my face as he leaned into me slowly, one of his hands on the side of my head while he masterfully pinned me to the door I had been leaning against moments ago while I hide.

“Are you drunk?!” he looked amused as he leaned more into me and then perhaps it was my imagination or just my hazy vision but I saw his eyes flicker to my lips for mere seconds. “You smell like vodka and look like sin. Didn’t anyone warn you about strangers waiting in dark alleyways or in this case strange rooms wanting to take advantage of girls that look like you?”

“I am not scared of you,” I stuttered hating myself for destroying the brave image I was trying to project. I eyed him. “And I am not drunk just a little tipsy and what exactly do you mean by girls who look like me?” I asked, my heart plummeting while I wish he will tell me something so rude that will make it calm down.

He grinned at me in a way that was both sensual and scary. My heartbeat thundered and my breast pebbled at the same time which was the craziest thing I have ever experienced. “Pure, Virginal, fucking snow white. Like a goody two shoe.” he licked his lower lips and my eyes followed the movement regardless of how much I wanted to act disinterested. “But you should be scared of me especially since you just heard me talk about killing someone.”

I gulped audibly. “My friend knows where I am. She will find me and__” I would have sold him that lie easily if he didn’t look so fucking beautiful while he stared at me amused by my obvious lie. The universe was unfair, why must the man who might want to hurt me be this good-looking? couldn’t he be a gangly-looking mugger with bad breath? Not one that smelt like bad decisions and scotch? His cologne didn’t help too and I just wanted to sink my hand into his hair and make his job of killing me so easy.

“I think that your drunk friend doesn’t know where you are or that you enjoy watching strangers while you lean against a wall like a stalker. She might not even realize you are gone.” He had a smirk on his face. He was obviously enjoying this.

Sadist.

He lifted one of his hands and I flinched but when he rested it on my hair, caressing it even, my brow rose.

His hand left my hair and soon his thumb was on my lower lips, tracing the seams with a playful gaze in his eyes that I met with a challenging one as I opened my mouth and took his thumb in.

He looked taken aback. “Do you do this with every man who seems like a potential serial killer?”

I smirked because the joke is on him. I am about to die anyway. I had forgotten.

I released his thumb with a pop. “No… just the good-looking ones who are assholes and think I look like a good girl.”

He laughed and suddenly I felt it, the worst kind of migraine, my eyes becoming droopy, my legs giving in and the last thing I felt before something or someone caught me was pure humiliation.

DAMON’S POV

“You don’t look as angry as I had expected,” Mathew sulked as I poured myself a shot of vodka and down it in one gulp because someone’s breath had made me want vodka badly. But now I think of it especially since I had to deal with her losing consciousness in my arm by asking my driver to take care of her and drop her at her home when she was sober enough to provide her address, I should be furious.

But it wasn’t like I was about to tell that to my best friend who had just dropped into the room, and poured himself a shot of vodka like he wasn’t an hour and five minutes late.

Mathew Grey was the only thing my father had done right although for his selfish interest. He had introduced me to the son of the Bravta overlord so he could keep me busy trying to win the heart of the Bravta while he cheated on my Ma.

At first, I found it ridiculous that a Bravta lord’s son smiled so much and just thought him a big joke to the mafias while I hung around him in school like a grumpy grey cloud but I grew to respect him when with that same dimpled smile I watched him torture his first victim in our initiation rite.

Even, sometimes to me, his unpredictability was scary because with me that almost never smiles all the time my ruthlessness is expected but I can’t tell with him even after fifteen years. He is my best friend, just saying the word makes me feel ridiculous but I trust him with my life and he had been through hell and back with me, for me, and was also my second in command so it is okay that he is a bit weird and gets off on my anger.

“I don’t know…” I trailed off knowing he was still waiting for a reply of sorts even though he had not asked a question.

He arched his brow at me. “For some reason, I might think you look excited if I didn’t know better but I do fortunately and a little birdie told me Rebecca was here. I had been looking forward to your irritation at her clinginess plus your disbelief at Macauley’s refusal but… there is nothing. What am I missing?”

“Rebecca or Becca,” I coldly deadpanned with unmasked irritation and he grinned.

I glared at him and he chuckled even more.

“Give me something more original. I have known you for fifteen years and you have only looked at me like you want to murder me ever since I got in here which is normal. I should be spotting a black eye while you attempt to do just that,” he pouted looking disappointed. “I am wearing my favorite white shirt. You should do something about making it not so spotless!”

“And that’s why I am scared you have stayed alive all this while,” I mused more to myself as I wonder if Mathew was right. The dynamic of our friendship was not the most conventional and so I tend to take my anger out on him when I get upset and he riles me up but he had been at it for hours and all I have felt is mild annoyance at most.

And I never feel mild annoyance ever with him perhaps mild thought of assassination whenever I look at his surfer blonde hair, green eyes, and vain pretty boy facial bone structure that I have always wanted to roughen up with a broken nose. But, I have never gotten that lucky despite all the times I get close enough to murdering him or him, me.

Was this new feeling all because of the stranger who had looked as cliche as an angel with pale blonde hair, pale skin, and electrifying big blue eyes that just disarms you completely since it is unexpected?

She had seemed surreal, like an image out of a bedtime story just leaning against the wall, her bag clutched to her chest, her eyes wide and her gown showing off sinful curves and endless legs. It had felt funny that she thought she was doing a good job hiding since she particularly just glowed and the shock in her eyes had almost compelled a peal of laughter from me.

I have met my fair share of beautiful women but none looked like her, none had pale red pouty lips that looked so soft and have made me so curious to know what it feels like to kiss them, skin so white I wonder how they will look with my finger imprinted on a particular part of her body, and hair so white I really wanted to fist my hand around them while I fuck her in different positions and see if they still reminded me of an angel's.

She wasn’t my type. She was everything I hated in a woman; doe-eyed, innocent, and she even went as far as looking like a fucking angel. I should have found everything about her ridiculous from her Rapunzel light blonde hair and how frightened she had been when I had her against the wall yet so excited but I had been… curious.

That should be it.

“Who was it?” Mathew asked looking at me knowingly. “It wasn’t Becca so who was she…” he smirked. “Or he?”

I down my shot of vodka wondering if it will taste differently if I had fucked common reason and kiss her like I was so close to doing before she dropped unconscious. “It was nobody.”

His eyes bore into mine.

“Oh fuck off,” I muttered pouring myself another shot of vodka still not forgetting how much I would have liked to dirty a particular woman as punishment for popping so much in my thoughts even without being under me.

“I just… is it only me that thinks it is strange you went from fuming mad and wanting to kill someone to indifference?” Mathew continued but my thought was fixated on something or rather on someone else entirely.