For years, Anna never thought Sullivan was the type of man anyone should go to for help. Heck! She didn't think he was the type of man anyone should be seen with. She hated him. Secretly. Deeply. And loathed his presence. 

His existence alone appalled her until she crashed into his building. A loud cry for his protection and help.

Sullivan didn't bother with Anna. She was too busy hating him while keeping his secret, too absorbing. Too much of everything he shouldn't be giving in to. Yet, in a fleet of seconds, she ripped his perfectly quiet world apart. 

As the world of the supernatural opened before her, with their unknown enemy promising a repeat of tragic fate, Anna banked on Sullivan's protection. Taking pleasure in his attention and interest. 

Yet, the knowledge she lacked was that peculiar interest is often overwhelming. Unhealthy. Dangerous. Obsessive. And a path of thorn that tears at the most precious skin. 

■■■■■■■
“Are you hiding, little bird?” His tone was different from the usual. It wasn't the coo she knew, neither was it the song of calmness that often emanated from him. It was vibrating. An allure that in a dark and dangerous way promised a touch that would drift her alive. 

Annabelle kept her hand to her mouth, her heart racing past its usual rate. She wondered in that moment—now that she knew what he was—if he could hear her heart beat. 

As if the universe was sending her a response, she felt him stop. Right above where she hid. Holding a shaky breath, she raised her head, feeling the pressure of his feet on the wood that obscured her view from him. Surely, his ability can't go underground. Surely, the scent of watermelon and potatoes would mask her.

Yet…the low chuckle that sounded like a sinister laughter made her heart jump, as her legs gave away. He lifted the wooden pallet, their gazes colliding in a fit of what seems to be prey and predator instinct. A tiny smirk was playing on his face now, the same one she was used to. And the evidence was as glaring as daylight. Blood streak marked his crisp white shirt, drooling down the side of his face to his lips—his hands, a crimson bloody mess against rich skin. 

The stale of another man's death lingering around him, morphing his aura and forever confirming what he is. What he will always be. 

“Little bird…” 

“Please…” 

Huge palm reached out to pat her nest of hair, definitely leaving behind strokes of blood. The metallic iron scent assaulted her nose in the small space she hid.  He was after her heart—an organ she feared he might mean in the literal sense. As she remained in the squatting position, watermelon threatening to squash beneath her knees, she felt his pat. 

Once. Twice. As soothing as always for a creature like him. “I wished upon you little bird. You cannot run from me.” His words were a promise, a seal that bounded them together. Forever.


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This is an enemies to lovers cum friends to lovers kind of story.
ALSO...
!!!THIS BOOK WILL CONTAIN DARK VULGAR AND CRUDE CHAPTERS BUT A SERIES OF WARNINGS WILL BE ISSUED BEFOREHAND (depends on this authors mood *evil laughter*) SO...YOU WILL BE FINE ^.^

By night, Anna was back at the Sterling mansion. As Keisha filled her wine glass, pulling her fur jacket closer, she teased Anna. 


"I think Vice Chairman Sullivan intentionally dropped you here as a sign that he doesn't want you intruding his house anymore." She paused when Anna looked up from her phone. "Are you texting him?" 


The lady shook her head refusing to let the frown settle on her face. Ever since she returned yesterday, they seem to have been giving her one reason or the other to make her doubt the relationship she had with Sullivan. 


"Apart from me and the Vice Chairman, how many friends do you have?" Maryanne genuinely questioned.


Anna squinted her eyes and showed Maryanne her screen. "I am texting my friend Zara." It was too obvious she was now a loner. "And no, he didn't dump me here. He is busy." 


Chapter 72 - In which he has come to collect