Chapter 4: The Devil’s Vow

Marion's POV

I toss and turn.

Sleep won’t come. Every time I close my eyes, his face is there, burned behind my eyelids like a curse I can’t escape.

Richard.

His eyes, cold, furious.

The way he glared at me as if I were nothing. As if I deserved it.

Each blow… designed to break me.

And he has.

What did I ever do to him, I wonder?

In every way a person can be broken, he has.

I see the bloody bat. The glint of the knife.

Reid’s voice screaming, crying, “Please, let me go home!”

It haunts. To know I have lived with that man for 7 years.

“He’s a demon,” I whisper, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

“He’s taken everything.”

The room is quiet, but my mind isn’t.

A memory grips me suddenly, uninvited, cruel.

It was after my first award. I can still hear the crowd clapping.

Icarus was finally getting noticed; headlines were starting to say my name.

I was young, hungry, and lonely.

And then… there he was.

Richard Dalton.

Dashing. Sharp-witted. Brilliant, even.

He cornered me with charm and ambition, and I let him.

We talked for hours that night. Philosophy. Science. Future empires.

By the time the sun rose, I knew I would marry him.

And I did. I stare at the ceiling now, the weight of that memory like a boulder on my chest.

It was all a lie.

Every word. Every smile. Every touch.

Lies wrapped in tailored suits and soft kisses.

I press a trembling hand to my bandaged stomach, the pain flaring again.

A reminder.

“You won’t get away with it, Richard,” I breathe, my voice shaking.

“Not as long as I have breath in my body.”

The tears fall freely now, silent, hot, and furious.

But I don’t wipe them away. I let them remind me. Let them baptize me.

There’s only one way to deal with a demon.

And that’s to become the devil.

I sit up slowly, wincing as my ribs protest. My hand curls over my heart.

I swear it, a vow, quiet and deadly.

You took everything from me.

I will let this pain fester, and I will use it, I say, closing my eyes… Praying that sleep will find me soon.

***

I stare out the window, fingers curled tightly around the glass of water. My reflection blurs in the pane, a ghost of the woman I used to be. A tired face courtesy of my sleepless night.

My heart is pounding, but not from fear.

I am excited.

Not the kind I felt when I filed my first patent. Not even the adrenaline from launching Icarus.

No—this is different.

I’m excited to burn everything to the ground.

To destroy someone. To tear apart everything he cherishes.

Yes, I am very excited. I smile just thinking about it.

"What are you doing up?"

The voice cuts through my thoughts like a blade, pulling me away from my revenge-packed fantasy.

I turn slowly. Jude stands by the doorway, shirt sleeves rolled, expression unreadable.

“I need to get my strength back,” I say, my voice quiet but sharp as glass.

I walk, slowly, carefully, toward the couch, my body still aching with every step.

He watches me, those sharp eyes scanning every inch of me.

“What happened to you?” he asks, his tone too casual to be innocent. “It’s not like the great Marion Storm to give up.”

I freeze, my back straightening.

“Give up?” I echo. My eyes narrow. “Is that what you think I have done?”

“You tried to kill yourself, Marion. Explain it to me. How does the ice queen give up so easily?”

I set the glass down with a hard clink and turn to face him fully. His smug face annoying me more than usual.

“So you think I stabbed myself and burned down my multi-million dollar home, is that it? Is that what everyone thinks?” My voice rises, clipped with fury. “Are you actually this stupid?”

He doesn’t flinch. “I’m just telling you what the evidence points to. You were spiraling. On the verge of losing everything.”

“I did lose everything, Jude,” I whisper, my voice bitter with memory. “Everything but my life.”

A tense silence falls between us.

“Then tell me what actually happened. The truth,” he says finally. “Who did this to you?”

I laugh, low and cold. There’s no humor in it. I can see his confusion. He will understand the irony soon enough.

“My husband,” I say.

His face changes. I see it, the flicker of disbelief. Of shock. Of something colder settling in.

Maybe he believes me.

Maybe he doesn’t.

I don’t care. I need him.

I take a breath, steadying myself. “Thank you for saving my life, Jude.”

He nods once.

“But I need one more favor.”

His brow lifts. “A favor?”

“If you do this,” I pause, locking eyes with him, “Icarus is yours.”

That gets him.

I watch his mind start to spin, the way his jaw twitches slightly, his eyes darting.

Icarus. The company that has every boardroom bastard in the city trying to steal it.

“I could just buy it from Richard,” he says smugly.

My smile is sharp. “Richard isn’t keeping my company. I’d rather burn it to ash before that happens. And either way, he cannot sell Icarus even if he wants to. No one can.”

Something shifts in his expression. I watch as he twists in his seat. He knows this is how he wins. There’s fire there now. Intrigue.

“What’s the favor?” he asks slowly, his voice quieter now.

I look up into those calculating eyes and say it, without flinching, without blinking.

“I want you to marry me, Jude Creed.”