“I don’t know, Daya. I honestly don’t. I just… really want to solve this case. Gigi didn’t deserve what happened to her. And I think Mark might be able to give us some insight on the case.”
“Addie, I love you, but you’re crazy. There are other routes to look at, you don’t need to go to a goddamn senator’s party with a fucking stalker to get a bit of information. A stalker that might be a world-renowned hacker and vigilante.”
She’s right.
Totally valid point.
But I'd be a liar if I said going to the party tonight didn't stir something in my chest that feels sublime. The thrill. The adrenaline rush. The danger. It stirs something deep in my core, too.
It calls to me and I’m too weak to ignore it.
But that’s something that I can never explain to Daya. She’s logical. Reasonable. Smart. And she’s not an adrenaline junkie like I without a doubt am. She doesn’t get a thrill out of danger.
I should’ve been a stunt double or something.
“I know you’re going to think I’m even more insane than I already am, but at least for this occasion, I really feel like Zade will protect me. In fact, I know he will.”
It’s Daya’s turn to sigh. “Honestly, I don’t doubt that, Addie. If he is who I think he is… he’s doing some good in the world. And he’s clearly obsessed with you in a very unhealthy manner, but from the sounds of it, he’s not the typical stalker where he’s out to murder you. I think he just really, really wants to be with you and is handling it in a very creepy fucking manner.”
I laugh even though it’s not a funny situation. It’s not necessarily something to make light of, considering we don’t know if he’ll just turn around and kill me, but it makes me feel better.
"Just please keep in mind that you don't know this guy, and he might not have good intentions."
I laugh dryly. "Trust me, I haven't forgotten."
“When is this party?”
I twist my red-painted lips and give myself a slow perusal in the mirror. I’m wearing a red strapless gown, the top half encrusted with thousands of tiny diamonds throughout the lacy material. The bottom half molds to my body like a second skin with a large slit slicing all the way to mid-thigh. Diamond strappy gold heels adorn my feet, while my hair is curled into beach waves, the tendrils falling around my shoulders.
It’s both sexy and elegant.
Zade sent it to me, and the rebellious side of me almost threw it out to go and find my own damn dress. But then my imagination got away from me.
And I couldn’t stop myself from picturing the look in his eyes when he sees me wearing the dress and shoes he chose for me. I was horrified by the butterflies that were set free in my stomach with the incessant desire to bring that image to life.
“Tonight,” I say quietly, a frown tugging at my lips.
What are you doing, Addie?
Zade picks me up in a classic Mustang. The metal gleams in the moonlight, glinting off the rock in the sky as if it was built to be seen after sundown.
Shakily, I make my way down the porch steps. I wrap my long trench coat tighter around my body, partly to ward off the chill and partly to ward off the anxiety stirring in my gut.
I can’t tell if I have a bad feeling about tonight or not. What I do know is that whatever happens, I’m going to see Zade in an entirely new light and discover new things about him. Things that might make me hate him more… or less.
And the latter is what I’m scared of most.
Before I can make my way to the car, his driver’s side door is swinging open, and a suit-clad leg is stepping out.
Oxygen crystallizes in my lungs as Zade takes one last hit of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stomping it out. Smoke billows from his mouth as he looks at me from beneath hooded eyes.
Jesus Christ.
“You shouldn’t litter,” I say hoarsely, earning a slight grin in return. He bends and picks up the cigarette butt and deposits it in his pocket.
“Sorry, baby,” he rasps. “Won’t happen again.”
I can hardly say thank you when I’m too enraptured by the dark God before me.
He’s absolutely breathtaking. And I’d like to blame the cold autumn air on the ice in my lungs, but I know better.
Zade is adorned in an all-black suit. Every single inch of the fabric stitched to the exact millimeter of his body. It fits him impeccably, molding to his muscular arms, trimmed waist, and thick thighs.
My knees weaken, along with my resolve.
I have the most insane urge to turn around, walk back in that house, bend over the couch and let him fuck the rest of whatever sanity I have left out of me.
I want to be delirious from his cock, and to make matters worse, I know he would absolutely surpass every one of my expectations if I let him.
God?
I don’t even get to finish that thought before he’s walking towards me, a sinfully dark smirk on his face.
The black suit does nothing but darken his aura. Zade is Hades, stepping out from the underworld and wreaking havoc on my quiet little life. The wicked scar cutting through his nearly-white eye, with his other nearly-black eye is a combination that could only be forged in Hell.
It’s just not fucking fair.
“You’re fucking magnificent,” he growls as he stalks towards me, his shiny shoes reflecting the moonlight. His voice is deeper than normal—smokier. Deadlier.
It’s only when his hand rises towards my face that I notice the single red rose in his hand. He slips the flower behind my curls, biting back a smile as he does.
I hold my breath. I feel just like a mouse caught in a trap, with my predator licking his lips, ready to eat me alive.
Before I can open my mouth, he’s pressing into me and grabbing my trench coat, wrenching it apart and down my arms. I gasp, both shocked by his actions and the cold licking against my skin.
“What the he—”
“You wore the dress I bought you,” he interrupts, his mismatched eyes roving over the entirety of my body.
I swallow and give him a look. “I wore it out of convenience. I hate dress shopping.”
He barely acknowledges me—we both know that’s not why I wore it—and focuses his attention on every inch of my body. Flames lap at his pupils as the heat in his gaze intensifies.
My coat dangles in his hand, and I glare at it, willing it to magically appear back on my body.
A cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. I feel exposed, and the way he’s looking at me is searing me from the inside out.
I’m just… really fucking uncomfortable right now.
I hold my hand out expectantly. “Are you done holding my coat hostage? I’m freezing.”
His eyes finally draw back to my own. A shiver snakes down my spine, slithering against my shot nerve endings.
God, the way he’s looking at me should be fucking illegal.
Instead of doing as I ask, he grabs my outstretched hand in his own and inspects it closely, his brow lowered as he concentrates.
“The hell are you doing, Zade?”