The Mimic: Jealousy Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

I tried to mimic his ease, though my nerves hummed like live wires. Over wine, I whispered, “They’re staring.” “Good,” he said simply. “Let them.” It was ridiculous—sitting across from him, pretending this was a date, while my heart thudded like it believed it. Every whisper around us seemed louder than the soft piano notes drifting from the corner. I adjusted my posture constantly, hyper-aware of every blink, every shift of my gown beneath the chandeliers. The urge to shrink into the chair was almost overwhelming. Halfway through the meal, my phone buzzed. Maya, of course: Smile like you love him. I’m watching on livestream.

“That monster’s gonna rip me apart.” He scoffed, annoyed, but grabbed a bottle of lube from the nightstand and tossed it at me. “Prep your slutty hole. Don’t keep me waiting.” I fumbled with the bottle, hands shaking as I poured lube onto my fingers. My eyes squeezed shut as I pushed two fingers into my ass, stretching myself, biting back a moan. Fuck, this was humiliating, and his piercing stare made it worse. “Too fucking slow,” Milo growled, yanking me into his lap. He pinned my wrists behind my back, his free hand shoving three fingers into my hole without warning. I gasped, toes curling, tears stinging as he pumped them deep, curling just right.

The atmosphere was stifling. I stole a few glances at him. His jaws were clenched tight, and his gaze was fixated straight ahead. He was like a perfect piece of art the Moon Goddess created, so much so that he felt very much distant from everyone else. I bit my lip and mustered the courage to speak. "About breaking the bond—" "I reject," he interrupted me without hesitation. Surprised, I looked at him, only to notice he was averting his gaze and not daring to meet my gaze.

I scoff, shaking my head, “You can’t fool me, Corvin. Your instinct is to kill. You’re a predator, and I’m your prey.” “Yeah,” he mutters. “Unless our roles are now reversed, making you the predator and me the prey.”

POV JANE By the goddess, Marius was aroused! That was the first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes and saw him standing at the entrance of the room, watching me as if I were nothing more than prey he’d love to devour. Strangely, it didn’t bother me as much as it should have. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of shorts that perfectly outlined his huge arousal beneath. I blinked, surprised that he was actually there. I wasn’t dreaming, was I? No the dream I’d been having about him was very different. In it, Marius was kissing me, touching me. Which was ridiculous, considering I was angry at him and didn’t trust that male one bit!

His silver cufflinks shone beneath the crystal chandelier. I walked toward him and habitually adjusted his tie. "What's the matter?" He put his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear, "Nothing. I just want you to meet high-society elites with me." I reached out to adjust his cufflinks. The moment my fingers touched a cufflink, a violent dizziness hit me, as if an electric current passed through my brain. Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice echoed in my mind. 'Tracy's body is irresistible. Those long legs and that waist are so much better than that icy Marisa.'

TAKE ME, RUIN ME CHAPTER 18 CHAPTER 18: FOR THE LAST TIME I look down at him, my breath hitching in my throat. I feel completely paralyzed, trapped by a sense of intimidation that I can’t quite shake. His raw power is doing things to me—things I’m not supposed to be feeling, let alone listening to. I let out a dry scoff and shake my head, trying to find my voice. "You are mistaken, okay?" I say, my voice trembling slightly. "If you really think I am just like any other woman who is going to bow down at your feet, then you’ve got to be dreaming."

I collapsed against the couch, trembling, my limbs heavy and useless. He straightened, licking the crimson from his lips with a languid grace that made my stomach twist. His eyes gleamed, darker now, and fixed wholly on me. My mind reeled. I touched my neck with shaking fingers, feeling two small punctures, tender and wet. My heart stumbled in my chest. “You…” The word stuck in my throat. “What are you?” His smile was slow and knowing. “Exactly what you fear,” he said softly. I shook my head, but the world tilted, making it hard to think, to breathe. The heat between my legs throbbed with every frantic beat of my heart. Shame flooded me, mingling with an overwhelming, bewildering desire.

"Hang in there, Layla! Every extra minute you wait out here is another minute he'll spend feeling guilty and heartbroken over you. When he comes out and sees you sick because of him, that guilt will send his affection level straight into the stratosphere!" The System's voice continued to echo inside my head. Leaning against the freezing wall, I felt my body slowly slide downward against my will. Through my daze, I thought I saw Kendrick Miller—the male lead of the romance novel I'd transmigrated into—running toward me with a panicked look on his face. I deluded myself into thinking he would pull me into his arms, wrap his warm coat around me, and take me home. But none of that happened. … Th

The suffocating pressure in the hall instantly eased. I let out a long breath of relief. I survived. Barely. Without another word, Nerien turned and leisurely walked toward the exit. The servants quickly stepped aside, lowering their heads as he passed. Even Riven watched him leave without saying a word. "See?" I muttered under my breath. "He's the scary final boss." Yes! I'm alive! Maybe transmigration isn't so bad after all. Maybe I'll actually survive this novel— Host, please stop celebrating prematurely.