Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Devil wears Red Lipstick: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Marion’s POVI stand in the middle of my new apartment, arms folded, taking it all in. Clean lines. Expensive finish. The kind of place people would kill to live in.Me? I just feel like a squatter in my own life.A memory hits me out of nowhere, Reid and Jude, Jude ruffling his hair like he was the only thing that mattered.For a second my chest aches so bad I can’t breathe.“Oh, Jude…” I whisper, bitter and soft. “If only you could keep it in your pants.”The doorbell cuts through the silence.I frown. Nobody should know I’m here. Still, I drag myself to the door and open it without thinking.Burner.“Detective,” I say flatly.“Hey,” he replies, too casually.“Can I help you?” My tone sharpens, annoyed already.“Can I come in?”“Why?”He doesn’t answer.Just pushes past me like he owns the place.“Nice. Penthouse living. Didn’t peg you for this kind of taste.” He flops onto my couch like a stray cat claiming territory.“Sure, make yourself at home,” I mutter. “What do you want, Burn

Jude's POVI pace outside Marion’s new apartment building, the cold steel of the railing biting through my coat, phone vibrating like a heart under attack. Ten missed calls. Ivy. Hasn’t she gotten the message yet? I mutter under my breath, jaw tight.I hang up. Immediately, she calls again.I answer, masking annoyance better than I feel. Ivy, what is it?Where are you? she snaps."Out," I reply shortly, pacing faster, shoulders stiff.Out? Today is the first day of the rest of our lives, and you leave me alone? Her voice is sharp, insistent.What did you think would happen, Ivy? That I’d drop everything? I snap. I’m busy. I’ll be at the manor soon.What am I supposed to do until then? Just sit and wait for… She trails off.I sigh, running a hand over my face. Shouldn’t you be getting some rest? Didn’t you say your pregnancy is… risky?I can hear her thinking, plotting, calculating over the phone. What lie is she coming up with now? I wonder, heart tightening."I hope you aren’t chasi

Richard's POV I glance at Ivy, and her words still linger in my head—no love for Jude.Music. Sweet, morning melody. The most honest thing she’s ever confessed, and it’s as intoxicating as the perfume clinging to her skin.But Marion.My mind drifts back to her, as it always does.My ex-wife.Beautiful, venomous, maddeningly resilient.The way she survives everything I throw at her—cunning, sly, pulling victory from ashes—it’s enough to make my blood heat.Sexy, I think, licking my lips.She believes she has me cornered.The thought makes me laugh under my breath. Because nothing thrills me more than the moment I flip the game and watch her face when she realizes I’ve already won.The basement stretches ahead of us, damp and endless, corridors lit by dim bulbs that buzz like flies.Pipes snake along the ceilings, dripping condensation. The air tastes metallic, bitter. Ivy’s hand is warm in mine, her nails pressed just a little too hard into my skin as if she’s clinging to the promise

Marion’s POVThe door swings open, and I almost choke on my sigh.“You,” I say flatly, folding my arms.“Why are you here this early in the morning?”Jordan’s smirk is infuriating. He leans against the frame, hands buried in his pockets like he owns the place.“Well, I’m not here for you. I’m here for Jude.”My annoyance flares. “So you didn’t find anything for me?”“Not yet. It’s been one day, Marion. I’m not a magician.”Before I can snap back, his voice rises, echoing down the hall. “Jude! Jude Creed!”From behind me, Jude’s voice, groggy and petulant: “Did you have to come interrupt our very blissful morning?”I turn just as Jude wanders out of the bedroom, my short black kimono draped haphazardly over his frame.The tie dangles loose at his hips, the neckline scandalously open. His hair is a glorious mess, his smile sleepy and boyish in a way that makes my chest ache.Jordan nearly doubles over laughing. “What the hell are you wearing?”Jude grins lazily. “You’re the one who barg

Jude’s POVThe hallway is too bright, too white. I feel like the light is mocking me.I can’t get the image out of my head: Marion’s knees buckling, blood soaking through silk, her eyes rolling back while she clawed the air, desperate for breath. I swear I felt her slipping out of my hands.I pace the corridor like a caged animal. My lungs burn, my chest is tight, and my fists ache. It’s gnarly, the memory of her choking on blood, the sound of monitors screaming, the smell of iron and bleach. I feel useless. Helpless. Like I’m watching her drown and I can’t swim.My knuckles crack against the wall before I even think about it. Pain shoots through my hand, and for half a second it’s a relief.“That wall didn’t do anything to you.”Jordan appears out of nowhere, calm as if he hasn’t just watched the same horror show I did. He hands me a cup.I take it, swallow, almost spit it out. “What the hell is this?”“Tea,” he answers, deadpan. “You need to calm down.”I glare at him, then sigh. “Te