Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Six

Bianca

I'm breathless, hot and fucking breathless as I cling to reality in the midst of pretend.

I hadn't expected to eat dinner and exit the kitchen to find Niko had arrived home with another woman. But the moment I saw her, I wanted to beg every God that this world worships that this was make belief. That my eyes deceived me.

Red hot jealously raged like an inferno inside of me.

I was angry. So angry I could have murdered that girl—Andrea, with my bare fucking hands and not blinked twice.

She was everything I was not. She's blonde like Emma, tall and well built, and explicitly beautiful. It's obvious she spends hours working out that I don't. Her bottom is as round as a peach, and her legs and arms are toned and defined.

My gaze flicked between them, and realisation dawned on me like an elephant.

I'm not his type; I couldn't be. Not if she was anything to go by.

And yet, we are to be married in less than a few weeks. He accepted, and I thought perhaps I would have him in my corner. Maybe I was naive to think he would be that person.

But he kissed me. More than kissed me.

My lips are still tingling, and my breasts still ache with a heavy need I've never felt before. It was there this morning, also, just less pronounced.

He pushed me up against the wall, claiming my lips with his own. His tongue swiped my teeth before he pushed it between the parting between them. We shared saliva as his hands roamed my body, acquainting with places only one other man had touched.

And then he pulled back, demanding I go. And I did—stupidly.

Storming away after he all but dismisses me, I slam into his bedroom like a sulking child. He doesn't follow, which makes me angrier, and that's when I do that thing, the thing my father hated.

I black out and destroy Niko's room, only blinking back into reality when the damage is already done and there's nothing I can do to reverse it.

Gouged holes in the drywall. A broken chest of drawers is lying along the floor before the bed. The TV was also smashed and half hanging off the bracket.

I back up to look at my path of destruction, and I fall, sliding down the wall to land on my butt as I realise I'm no more in control of myself than I was a year ago when this all started.

What the fuck is happening to me?

What can I do to get rid of this side of me?

———

I wake up in bed, my eyes shying away from the tiny slither of light from the bedroom door in the otherwise pitch darkness. I hear Niko talking on the phone. He's swearing blue murder, tasking someone to do something promptly.

I can't help myself. I rise from the bed silently and move through the darkness as quietly as I can. By the door, I sit on the floor, peeking through the small crack that allows me only a chance to gaze at him sitting in his desk chair, feet up on the desk as he swings his chair back and forth.

He has a cigarette or something similar hanging from his fingers. He also has a blade he's twirling in his other hand.

"I don't care if you need to break any rules. We need those weapons, pronto, as you agreed last Thursday. It's now Monday; if they're not here by fucking Friday, then the deals are off, and you can go fuck yourselves, and we won't be paying a fucking penny."

He's angry, and as he inhales the cigarette, I can tell from the smell that it's more, that it's cannabis.

I stay there for a while, listening to his many conversations about his work; it feels as if I'm getting to know a side of him that he keeps hidden. I shouldn't be here hiding and eavesdropping, yet I can't bring myself to climb back into bed. Nor can I find the confidence to stand up and open the office door.