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Chapter 13 FACE TO FACE
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2025-07-23 00:01:10
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The Devil wears Red Lipstick Chapter 42 No
MarionI pace the length of my office, bare feet silent against the carpet. My head buzzes like a hornet trapped in a jar, and the pressure behind my eyes builds until I halfexpect them to burst. The nosebleeds are worse, twice a day now, sometimes more. I’ve learned to keep tissues in every drawer, every pocket.But I have to admit I am a little excited. Watching Ivy's plans come crushing down has probably been the best part of my week, but still…I don’t have the time or the energy for new responsibilities. Not when I’m this close to dismantling Richard’s carefully built illusion. Not when Emma is already teetering at the edge of doubt, ready to fall into my hands. Not when Reid’s safety depends on every calculated move I make.A knock, soft, polite, cuts through my thoughts.The door cracks open, and Jacob’s silver head pokes through. “Congratulations, Marion,” he says before stepping inside, his voice equal parts wry and amused.I sigh, whispering a thank you that sounds
The Devil wears Red Lipstick Chapter 42: Win
Marion's POVIvy’s words from yesterday still echo in my skull, ridiculous enough to almost be funny.She doesn’t care about anyone, not even Jude. She must have done this.Ah, such a fool. If only she knew what I know, she’d choke on her accusations. I can unravel her right here, thread by thread, but no. Not yet. I need more. I need to know what she and Richard are planning, what game they’re playing withReid’s life.The glass conference room buzzes with restless whispers. Board members in dark suits, the entire Creed family stiff in their seats—even Ivy, perched like she’s auditioning for a Vogue spread. My headache hums behind my eyes, a dull, drumbeat-like sensation. I breathe in. Out. In. Out. My fingers twitch restlessly against each other, the tiniest betrayal of how close I am to breaking.A chair scrapes beside me. My body flinches before I can help it. Then, warmth. A hand, firm and steady, sliding over mine, pressing.“I know you didn’t do this,” Jude whispers.
The Devil wears Red Lipstick Chapter 41: Another Loss
Jude’s POVI take another burning gulp, the whiskey carving fire down my throat, before slamming the glassonto the counter a little too hard. The sound rings like an accusation.“Jesus, Jude.”I turn, slow, annoyed, and find Martin standing there, his expression halfway between worried and exasperated. “Don’t you think you’re spiraling?” he asks.“I don’t need your judgment, Martin,” I sneer, voice rough, sharp edges softened only by the alcohol. “I need answers.”He raises a brow, shrugs out of his coat with that maddening calm of his, and slides into the chair opposite me, like he’s settling into a game of chess. He unbuttons the coat one button at a time, deliberate, unhurried, while I’m sitting here vibrating with fury.“On what?” he asks, casual. “Marion’s mystery… or Ivy’s plans?”I lean back, swirling the amber liquid in my glass, studying the way it catches the dim light.“Both.”Martin lets out a dry chuckle. “Let’s start with Ivy, then. I can’t find anything. Nothing.
The Devil wears Red Lipstick Chapter 40: The Devil? Maybe.
Marion’s POV The room is low-lit, all shadows and whispers, the hum of the Penthouse Lounge seeping faintlythrough thick velvet curtains. My beer mug is full of apple juice, the kind of ridiculous disguise that makes me smirk into the rim."I need to find a new place to hang out," I mutter under my breath, tracing a bead of condensation down the glass. This booth is a secret, VIP access, floor-to-ceiling drapes, and a perfect view of the room without anyone seeing me.I glance at my watch. My mind drifts, uninvited, back to the night Brian sent that text. The file, the photos, the little crumbs that could ruin an empire. It’s almost funny, the way Richard keeps handing me bullets, loading the gun for me himself. I don’t even have to go looking for them.The curtain parts.A flicker of light. Then her silhouette."Well, well…" Emma’s voice is sugary with razor edges. "This has to be a joke."She steps in like she owns the place. Pink Chanel skirt suit. Hair bleached to that e
The Devil wears Red Lipstick Chapter 39: Whatever it takes
Ivy’s POV The gin is crisp, icy, and exactly the kind of burn I need right now.Jude thinks he can toss me out of his life like I’m yesterday’s scandal?Cute. If he honestly believes that’s the end of me, he’s in for a very rude awakening.The leather of the lounge chair creaks under me as I lean back, glass in hand, legs crossed,watching the amber firelight lick at the shadows. This house might belong to someone else, but tonight it feels like my stage."Too early to be drinking, don’t you think?"That voice, cold, precise, the kind that could slice a throat without spilling a drop.I turn my head. Elenore glides into the lounge, platinum hair falling like silk, her figure still enviably sharp even at fifty. Not a wrinkle dares touch her. She doesn’t sit, she arrives.I swirl my gin, unbothered. "It’s evening somewhere," I say, tipping the glass to my lips.A corner of her mouth twitches. Not a smile. Something smaller, sharper. "Oh? What’s wrong, Ivy? Did your plan to get Jud
The Devil wears Red Lipstick Chapter 38: Even if I beg
Jude's POV“So you still haven’t found anything?” My voice is flat, tired.“No, sir.” Martin’s voice crackles through the speaker. “I can’t even find the street Ivy claimsshe was attacked on.”I pinch the bridge of my nose.“I don’t know, sir… this feels like a setup.”Martin’s words hang there like smoke in a stale room.“Okay.” I hang up before he can start speculating further.The silence in my suite feels heavier than usual. I walk to the window, fingers drumming against the sill. Across the driveway, Marion steps out of the black town car, her posture immaculate, her headhigh, like she’s walking into a gala, not her own home.She disappears through the front door. Not once looking up. Not that she ever does.One week.That’s how long it’s been since we last spoke. Since she’s acknowledged my existence at all.My texts? Left undelivered.My calls? Never even ringing.When we pass each other, in the office or at Creed Manor, she walks straight past, her eyes fixedon some in
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