Chapter 33
CHRISTIAN'S POV
I couldn't help but smile endlessly during the ride back to Valentino's. It wasn't the casual kind of smile that flickers and fades. No. This one lingered. Stretched. Took up space on my face like it had claimed permanent residence. My cheeks ached from holding it, but I didn't care. I let it stay. I let it grow.
"You've been smiling a lot, it's making my stomach churn!" Reginald groaned, shifting in his seat as though my joy physically offended him.
Silence.
More smiles.
The city lights streaked past the tinted windows, but I barely saw them. All I could see was her. The way she had stood on those stairs. The way the air around her felt thicker. Charged. Like walking into a storm you didn't want to escape from.
"Aha!" Reginald clapped his hands, startling me a bit. "The woman on the stairs… she's the one who cast a spell on you!" He said it like it was the greatest discovery ever made in history.
Spell.
If that's what we were calling the way my pulse had shifted inside my chest, then fine.
"Might or might not be!"
Understatement.
He didn't say anything after that. We stayed quiet for some time and I thought we were going to arrive in silence. But the quiet wasn't empty. It was heavy. It carried Brenda's name without either of us daring to say it.
"I thought you were too hooked up on Brenda! I mean… I know you still have feelings for her!"
My jaw clenched tightly.
So tight I thought I'd grind my teeth to a fine powder. I felt the muscle tick near my temple. Brenda's name didn't just sit in the air — it invaded it.
"And that's why Luna will make me forget!" I managed to say.
But even to my own ears, it sounded like a man trying to convince himself.
He wasn't wrong. I was still in love with Belair. Not the memory of her. Not some romanticized version of her.
Her.
I was alive because I had made peace with the fact that we would never be together. That acceptance was the only thing that kept me breathing without suffocating. You cannot chase a ghost and expect to survive.
"Luna? You even know her name!" Reginald scoffed. "I think the only reason you're attracted to her is because she has that aura… the same one Brenda carries!"
I turned to look at him slowly.
I thought I was the only one who noticed the similarities.
"You also noticed huh?"
A nod.
That nod unsettled me more than his words. Because if it was visible… then it was real.
Just as we pulled up to Valentino's mansion, the SUVs — the false convoy — were parked at the entrance.
Something seemed off.
Not just off.
Wrong.
The air itself felt metallic. Heavy. Like blood had already claimed it.
We got out of the car and immediately spotted four dead bodies in bags. Valentino's men.
Several others were injured — groaning, bleeding, their suits soaked in red that was far too dark under the floodlights.
The smell hit next.
Gunpowder. Blood. Burned rubber.
This wasn't an attack.
It was a message.
I made my way to Valentino.
"What happened?" I asked, almost impatiently. Like I was in my turf. Like this was my war.
Valentino fiddled with his beard, but I saw it — the fury behind his calm. "They were ambushed! Attacked by those who thought we were in the convoy!"
If I had been in that convoy…
I would have been a dead man.
Not injured.
Not wounded.
Dead.
"I assume you already know who did this…"
"Daemon!" Reginald and I said in unison.
The name tasted bitter.
"You came here to find Daemon but it seems that he has found you! Diablo, I don't want you to die… not yet so I'd advise you get on the first plane that leaves tomorrow morning or possibly… tonight!"
There was a tinge of something in his voice.
Reluctance.
He hated saying it.
Valentino was not a man who advised retreat. He advised domination. Control. Power.
"Book coach!" I almost protested—
—but he stopped me.
"Be where they least expect you to be! That's the only way to play this game!"
Coach.
Hide in plain sight.
Shrink to survive.
I could hear Reginald groan beside me. He was more of a high-life person. He liked being seen. Liked people knowing what he was about. How rich he was. The type of man who entered rooms like he owned oxygen.
But in a situation like that, he had no choice but to keep his pride wrapped in a titanium suit.
We decided to travel that same night. No hesitation. No debate. Survival does not wait for comfort.
Luckily, there was a flight to New York and we booked it.
Running.
Strategic repositioning, I corrected myself.
Just as I was about to get on the motorcycle provided, I remembered something.
No.
Someone.
"Hey Valentino, that party we attended this evening. Think you can give me the home number?" I asked.
Luna was etched in my mind. Not gently.
Etched. Like carved into stone.
In the middle of blood and death and survival planning — I was thinking about her lips. The way her eyes held defiance and curiosity at the same time. The way she stood like she had nothing to fear.
"Sure!" Valentino chuckled.
He knew exactly what that smile meant.
I put my helmet on and held the handles. My fingers tightened around them, leather gloves stretching as I gripped harder than necessary. I was still roaring my motorcycle to life when Reginald's started moving.
Slick fuck!
He was already pulling ahead, engine growling like a challenge.
I followed behind him.
The wind hit my chest hard as I accelerated.
Daemon wanted me dead.
Brenda still lived in my veins.
And Luna…
Luna was about to become my distraction.
Or my destruction.