All Chapters of My Billionaire Husband Was Never Human : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

JANE’S POV_ The man’s eyes glowed with a pale light from somewhere deep inside them. I stared at him from across the crowded club, completely unable to make sense of what I was seeing. In the dim, flashing light of the VIP section, where everyone else was shouting, drinking, and moving to the heavy thrum of the bass, he stood entirely still against a marble pillar. Then he blinked. They were normal. Dark, steady, and entirely human. I stood frozen, my glass half-raised, my chest tightening as my mind scrambled for a logical excuse. *Did I really see that? Was it just the neon strobes? Was I imagining things?* I should have looked away. I should have turned around, found my friends, and shaken off the strange, cold knot twisting in my stomach. Instead, I looked back. And he was already watching me. He didn’t look away like a stranger caught staring. He held my gaze, his expression entirely calm, as though he had known I would look back. A dark blue suit fit him like it had bee

The bedroom was dead quiet, the air heavy like the stillness right before a heavy rain, smelling of dust and wet earth coming in through the window cracks. A pale light dropped from the ceiling, washing over the floorboards. I stood right in the middle of the room, my chest pounding against my ribs like something trying to break out and run away. My body was burning hot, head spinning, that deep ache between my legs making me crazy. I wanted him bad, no shaking about it, and I wanted him right now before I lost my mind completely. I rushed for my dress zipper, my fingers clumsy and shaking as I fought the cloth. Before I could pull it down, his hand caught my wrist. Hard. He moved fast, stepping right out of the dark corners like he had been standing there the whole time. Not a single word left his mouth. He just stared down at me till a quiet breath left his lips, freezing my legs right where they stood. His skin felt like cold stone against my hot pulse. He tilted his head, watchin

I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, my eyes snapping open to the thin wash of moonlight stretching across the room. Something felt wrong. I frowned in the dark. Since I had opened my eyes, he hadn’t changed position once. Not a hand. Not a shoulder. Not even the slow shift people made in their sleep without knowing it. I waited a minute, then another. Still nothing. A nervous laugh almost slipped out. “You must be exhausted,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. I leaned a little closer, searching his face for the smallest sign that he was asleep. A twitch beneath his eyelids. A tiny wrinkle across his forehead. Anything. There was nothing. My smile faded. “You’ve got to be sleeping,” I murmured softly. “Are you still asleep?” The words disappeared into the heavy silence. No answer. That was when uneasiness began creeping into my chest. The room was quiet. Too quiet. It felt heavy and lonely, and it made me feel uneasy. Moonlight came through the dirty window

I got home, slipped quietly into the room I shared with my sister, and locked the door and windows tight so nobody could burst in on me. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I pulled the thick brown envelope out of my bag and untied the strings. I counted the stacks. When I saw it came out to a full three million naira, I almost hollered, slapping both hands over my mouth right in time to choke off the sound before anyone in the house could hear. I had never touched that kind of money in my life. Not from a one-night stand, and definitely not even a quarter of it. Heart pounding against my ribs, I shoved the cash back into the envelope and hid it deep down at the bottom of my wardrobe bag. Days passed after that night. Then, things got weird. It was late one night a few days later. I was knocked out cold, sleeping so hard nothing could wake me. My sister couldn't sleep a wink. The room felt wrong. Even though the doors and windows were locked tight, a freezing draft kept swirlin

The Celestial Church promised cleansing, but what I found instead was an ordeal I could never have imagined as the prayers offered inside the locked prayer room failed to loosen whatever held me, convincing the prophets that stronger measures were needed because an evil force had rooted itself deep within me, turning me into the center of rituals where I sat in the middle of a wide circle of red, blue, black, and white candles whose dancing flames threw restless shadows across the sanctuary walls. For hours the prophets stood around me chanting without pause while the heat built gradually until sweat soaked my clothes and every breath felt heavy, before the ritual changed when one prophet picked up a thick burning candle and pressed its base against the top of my head, making me scream as hot wax ran through my hair, over my forehead, and down my face to burn my skin before hardening where it landed. While tears streamed down my cheeks and I tried to pull away, firm hands held me in p