My first crush (COMPLETED)√

CHAPTER 93: The devil wants me

"What do you want?" I asked.

My voice didn't sound like mine. It sounded hollow. Strained. Like it was being forced out of a chest that could barely hold itself together anymore.

I didn't want to negotiate.
I didn't want to argue.

I just wanted it to end.

Patricia's lips curved slowly.

"I want you."

The words didn't come out loud.

They came out possessive.

⸻

Stephen's POV

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

She stood there like she had just asked for something simple — like coffee, like forgiveness — not like she was bargaining with someone's life.

She knew it was impossible.

But Patricia had always been like that.

She had a terrifying talent for turning the impossible into something real. Twisting situations. Twisting people.

Twisting me.

"Ten..." she began softly.

My jaw tightened.

"Nine... eight... seven..."

She was counting down like a bomb.

Each number scraped against my nerves. I felt the urge to grab her shoulders and shake her. To scream. To break something.

Six.

Five.

She was insane.

Trading her sister. Her friend. A human being.

She wasn't angry anymore — she was unhinged.

"Patricia!" I snapped, stepping forward. "Stop."

She halted at four, eyes flashing.

"What?"

"Listen to yourself," I said, trying to steady my voice. "I know you're hurt. I know I messed up. But this? This isn't you. Let Sharon go. Please."

The word please tasted bitter.

"You told me you didn't love me," I continued. "You said you found someone else."

Her expression cracked.

"That was a lie!" she screamed, her voice breaking in the empty hallway. "A bloody lie!"

Before I could react, she stepped closer. Too close.

Her fingers cupped my cheek gently, almost tenderly. There was barely an inch between us. I could feel her breath.

"I love you," she whispered. "I would do anything for you. Anything."

Her grip tightened around my hands.

"I could kill for you."

The word kill settled like ice in my bloodstream.

She wasn't exaggerating.

She meant Sharon.

"I want you," she said again, softer now, almost desperate. "That's all I want. Help me fulfill my dream, Stephen..."

For a split second, guilt stabbed through me.

I had made her promises once.

I had broken them.

Had I created this monster?

"Patricia..." I exhaled shakily. "I'm sorry. I am. I wish I could undo everything. I wish I could take away your pain. But not like this. Not by destroying someone else."

I gently pulled my hands away from hers.

Her eyes widened.

And something inside her snapped.

"No one says no to me," she hissed. "No one."

Her breathing turned sharp, erratic.

"You think I'm bluffing?" she continued, her voice lowering dangerously. "You think this is a joke?"

She pulled out her phone.

My stomach dropped.

She dialed.

Video call.

It rang once. Twice.

Then—

"Hello, boss," a bald man answered, the camera shaking slightly.

"Show her face," Patricia ordered coolly. "Someone needs proof."

The screen shifted.

And my world shattered.

Sharon.

Tied to a chair.

Her wrists bound tightly. Her mouth taped. Bruises staining her skin. A faint cut along her arm. Her head tilted slightly forward like she was too weak to hold it up.

She looked smaller.

Fragile.

Broken.

My chest tightened so violently it felt like my ribs were collapsing inward.

Sharon lifted her head weakly. Her eyes found mine through the screen.

Tears streamed down her face.

She shook her head.

Don't.

That's what she was saying.

Don't do it.

But I could see the fear in her eyes.

I could see the pain.

And I knew.

If I refused, Patricia wouldn't hesitate.

The call ended.

Silence flooded the room again.

Patricia looked at me, smiling sweetly, as if we had just discussed wedding flowers.

"Well?" she asked.

My throat burned.

"I'll do it," I said quietly.

She tilted her head.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you."

She brushed her hair behind her ear dramatically, enjoying every second of my humiliation.

"I'll marry you," I said louder, the words scraping my insides raw. "Okay? You win."

Her smile widened.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me like she had just won a trophy.

"Thank you, Stephen," she whispered against my chest. "This is all I've ever wanted."

I didn't hug her back.

I stood there.

Empty.

Because in that moment, I realized something terrifying.

I hadn't just agreed to marry a woman.

I had just made a deal with a devil.

And I had no idea how I was going to survive it.