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TWENTY-EIGHT: The Suit Fits

Penulis: Circeleari
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-07-29 02:12:11
I’ve lost count of how many shopping bags are in the back seat by the time we pull into the driveway. Dante carries all of them with one hand, as though they weigh nothing, and still insists on holding the door open for me with the other.

Gentleman my ass. He’s a gentleman until he’s not.

Inside, the mansion is too quiet. A sigh leaves my lips as I open the front doors with my keys. This was the exact thing I always prayed to the Goddess for—even a little less than this as I wallowed in a wet mattress from leaking ceilings and a land lord that would bang in my doorstep at every given time.

It was provided but at the cost of someone. All I had to take care of was him. To simply take care of. How did everything go from there to . . . what this is now?

I place the keys as Dante follows behind, pushing his loafers off from the heel with each of his feet. I’ve done my job, albeit it was stressful. I just have to hand him back in and things will go back to the way it was and I’ll be able t
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  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SIXTY-SEVEN: Coming With Me

    He takes one step into the room.Then another.Each one is unhurried. Controlled. Like he knows I’m not going anywhere.“Eris,” he says. “I asked you a question.”I force my shoulders to relax. Keep my hands still. I’ve learned the hard way that sudden movements make him watch you closer.“It was a work call.”He studies my face. Not my eyes—my mouth, my hands, the way my weight shifts on my feet.“Work,” he repeats.I nod. “Something came up.”He’s close enough now that I can smell him. Soap. Heat. That underlying metallic note that never quite goes away.His gaze drops to the phone in my hand.“It sounded personal.”My jaw tightens. “You were eavesdropping?”“I was walking past.” He tilts his head. “You said you love him.”The words land like a slap.I inhale slowly. “He’s… family.”A lie. A half-truth. Something in between.His eyes flicker.“Funny,” he says quietly. “You never say that to me.”I don’t respond. “That’s cause we’re not. You’re my client. That’s all we’re ever gonna

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SIXTY-SIX: I Love You

    The engine dies, and the silence is worse than the screaming was.The car sits in the driveway with the headlights still on, beams cutting through the dark like they’re waiting for permission to move again. Dante’s hands stay on the steering wheel long after the key clicks off. He doesn’t look at me. His breathing is slow now. Controlled. Too controlled.I don’t move either.The air smells like blood and leather and the sharp bite of winter sneaking in through the vents. My fingers are still curled into his sleeve. I didn’t even realize I was holding on.He finally pulls his hands away from the wheel.No rush. No shaking. Just a smooth, deliberate motion, like nothing inside him is breaking apart.“I should go inside,” he says.Not we. Just I.My throat works. “Yeah. Okay.”He gets out first.Cold air slams into me when I follow. Gravel crunches under his boots as he walks ahead, already unlocking the front door. He doesn’t wait to see if I’m behind him. He knows I will be.The house

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SISTY-FIVE: I Didn't Crash

    The walk to the car feels longer than it should.Not distance-wise. Just . . . time stretching. As if every step is a bad idea and my body keeps taking them anyway.The parking lot is half-empty. Asphalt still warm under my sandals. Fireworks crack in the distance—somewhere behind the carnival tents—brief bursts of light reflected on car windows. Laughter carries. Music. Life. Normal shit happening while my chest feels like it’s being slowly cinched shut with wire.Dante opens the passenger door for me.Polite. Calm. Deadly.“Careful,” he says, hand hovering near my elbow like he might actually catch me if I fall.I don’t look at him. I slide into the seat and pull the door closed myself. The sound is too loud in the quiet. Too final.He gets in on his side, shuts his door, and starts the engine.The car hums to life. Smooth. Expensive-sounding. Everything about him is controlled—how he adjusts the mirror, how he checks his blind spot, how his hands rest on the steering wheel like it

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SIXTY-FOUR: The Ferris Wheel

    The line inches forward.Music pounds from somewhere behind us—cheap pop, bass vibrating through the concrete. People laugh too loud. Someone drops a cup and curses. Sugar and oil clog the air, heavy enough that I taste it when I breathe through my mouth.I stand too straight beside Dante.My hands are folded in front of me, fingers laced tight like I’m praying. I don’t pray. I learned young it doesn’t help. But my body doesn’t care what I believe—it’s already bracing.The Ferris wheel turns overhead.Metal groans. Bolts shift. A carriage swings past, the glass fogged from breath and heat and bodies pressed too close. Someone inside shrieks with laughter. The sound crawls up my spine.Dante steps forward when the line moves. He doesn’t look back to check if I’m following.Of course he doesn’t.I go anyway.Every step feels wrong, it’s as though I’m walking into something that’s already decided. The teddy bear digs into my ribs, its stupid plush arm dangling uselessly. I consider dropp

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SIXTY-THREE: The Snow

    Snow cracks under my boots as I step out of the airport terminal in Moscow. The cold slaps my face instantly, sharp enough to sting my eyes. My fingers tighten around the strap of the worn duffel bag Judith gave me. The air tastes like metal and smoke—everyone rushing past, bundled in dark jackets, hats pulled low, no one looking twice at me.Good. I need that. I need to vanish inside a crowd.The drive to the airport is a blur of headlights and the cold slap of night air through the cracked window. My heart thuds with every twist of the road. My baby sleeps through all of it, warm and unaware against me. Judith keeps glancing at the rearview mirror like something might crawl out of the dark behind us.Maybe it would’ve, if she waited ten minutes more.At the private bay, she hugs me so tight I feel her shaking. Judith never shows fear.But tonight, her voice breaks.“This is the last time, Lilith,” she whispers. “If I don’t go back to Seattle immediately, they’ll tear apart my life t

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SISTY-TWO: The Mall

    I wake up to cold.Not metaphorical cold. Actual, empty-sheet cold where his heat should be.My eyes open slowly, like I’m bracing for pain. The stone ceiling is the same. The iron torch brackets on the wall are still there. Dawn light seeps in thin and gray through the narrow window. The room smells faintly of antiseptic and sweat and something metallic I can’t quite scrub out of my nose anymore.I reach to my right before my brain catches up.My hand hits nothing.The sheets are flat. Undisturbed. Cold all the way through.My stomach drops anyway.I sit up too fast and the room tilts for half a second. I wait for the sound of breathing. For movement. For the soft weight of him behind me. There’s nothing. Just the distant echo of guards changing shifts somewhere down the hall and the low hum of the palace waking up.He’s gone.Relief hits first. Sharp and guilty. My shoulders loosen without my permission.Then something worse follows right behind it—this hollow, off-balance feeling i

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