Tu es à Moi

Tiring day

It's been a while since I faced the two monsters. To be honest, I haven't dared to go back there. That place is like a personal version of hell, where Lucifer himself probably resides. The mansion, the dark aura—everything about it makes my skin crawl. I've been avoiding it ever since.

Someone's POV

"Well, it's good for her that she's scared and hasn't come back here." The Queen's voice is cold, filled with a hint of disdain.

Ember, who was lounging against her desk, just shook her head. "I doubt it. She's still my granddaughter, after all. Your blood runs through her veins, too. She's just saving face, building up her confidence to show up here again."

Without waiting for a response, she stood up and exited the room. No excuses, no formalities. She simply raised her hand dismissively, the back of her hand facing the Queen as she walked out.

The Queen remained seated, a slow, wicked grin creeping onto her face. "We'll see if she still thinks Lucifer doesn't live here."

She leaned back in her chair, turning to face the window as she swirled the glass of dark red liquid in her hand. The rich scent of wine and something else—thicker, metallic—wafted through the room. She dropped it in one go, letting the bitterness linger.

"Lucifer, you're enjoying yourself out there, aren't you?" she whispered with a dark chuckle, her fingers tracing the rim of the empty glass.

Greg's POV

I've made up my mind. I'm taking a break from pestering the monster for now. Yeah, I know, it sounds weird—me, taking a break from my endless mission to prove myself to her. But something's shifted. Maybe it's exhaustion; maybe it's something deeper. And weirdly enough, I've been thinking about him. Yeah, him—Greg. I can't help it.

His stupid scent, his stupid tall figure, that aura of danger around him. As much as I hate to admit it, I miss the joke. And honestly, I've caught myself thinking that, eventually, he'll be head over heels for me. Ridiculous, right?

Assuming much, aren't we? a voice laughs in my head. He hasn't even courted you.

Hey, you really need to stop being mean to me, I argue back. If I could get rid of you, I would.

Too bad for you, because you can't.

I roll my eyes, shoving the annoying voice aside. Just as my assistant walks in, I pull myself together.

"Ma'am, the car is waiting for you outside," she informs me before leaving.

I nod and throw a few clothes, accessories, shoes, and a couple of special things into my backpack. I head downstairs, but something catches my attention—someone, maybe, watching me from the shadows. I stop and turn around quickly, but no one's there.

My heart skips a beat. Was that the monster?

The fire that had been burning inside me, the drive to learn and master everything, flickers out. I suddenly feel... tired. Tired of all of it. The training, the mansion, the power games. I just need a break, a moment to breathe.

I toss my bag into the passenger seat of the car, then slide into the driver's seat. The ride is quiet—boring, even. I turn on the stereo, and "Killing Me Softly" fills the car. The lyrics hit a little too close to home, like they're singing about this exact moment. I feel tired and... defeated. Yeah, that's the word. Defeated.

When I finally reach the gates of our mansion, the guards open them without hesitation. I'm not in the mood for the usual back-and-forth nonsense, so I'm relieved they let me through without a word.

I leave my car in the driveway, and my dad's men rush to park it in the garage. One of our maids approaches me with a bow.

"Welcome back, ma'am. What can I do for you?" she asks, polite as ever.

"Just take my bag to my room," I say, handing it over. I quickly make my way to the kitchen, where the comforting smell of baking fills the air. I find my mom by the stove, and without a word, I give her a back hug. I lean over her shoulder to peek at what she's making.

Cookies. Yes!

I kiss her on the cheek and smile, grateful for the small moment of normalcy.

"How was your training, my baby?" she asks, placing a plate of cookies and a glass of milk in front of me.

I sigh, sitting down. "Well, I'm having a hard time convincing the monster to be my master or mentor," I mutter, taking a bite of the cookie.

She almost spits out her coffee, coughing a bit before glaring at me. "What did you call my mother?"

Raising an eyebrow, she gives me that look—the one she always uses to remind me who's really in charge around here. I just shrug and stuff another cookie into my mouth.

"I said, 'the princess', I lie, swallowing hard. I stand up from the table, grabbing the milk and gulping it down. "Anyway, I'm heading to my room."

"Alright," she says, shaking her head at me with a small smile.

Once I make it to my room, I barely have time to kick off my shoes before collapsing onto the bed. Exhaustion hits me like a wave, and before I even know it, I'm fast asleep.