CHAPTER FIVE
1267 Words
~~LILITH~~
I turn around, slow, half-drunk, half-tempting fate.
And boom—there he is.
Ares freaking Greebs, in all his storm grey damnation stuffed into a black shirt, sleeves pushed up like he’s about to throw hands with the universe. His jaw’s working perfectly overtime. And those eyes? Practically drilling holes through me.
The guy behind me stiffens. His hands vanish from my waist.. Suddenly, everything’s ice-cold and way too quiet.
Off to my side, Mary squeaks out, “Uh, Lilith… isn’t that—”
“I know,” I mutter, barely holding my voice together.
My heart’s going nuts in my chest, but somehow my lips twist up in a grin.
“Hey, Uncle.”
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink. The crowd just melts away from him; they can feel his anger radiating outward, pressing everyone back. Even the bass thumping through the floor feels a million miles away.
“Why the hell are you here?”
Every word smacks like he’s throwing punches.
I try for a bigger smile, all teeth and trouble. “Dancing.” I twirl a little , letting my hair, catch the neon light. Either the room’s swaying or I am, who knows. “What does it look like?”
He doesn’t bother replying. Doesn’t have to.
My dance partner, already evaporating from my memory, starts to say something. Before sound can form,But Ares moves first.
The shove isn't violent. It doesn't need to be. It's precise, controlled, brutal in its restraint. The guy stumbles back two steps, and the music seems to falter, or maybe everyone around us just stopped breathing.
“Don’t touch her again.” His voice is pure threat, smooth and dangerous.
Then he’s got my wrist. His grip is… yeah, hot. Possessive. My knees do this weird thing, and suddenly we’re moving. He's pulling me out of there, my heels are clicking, and I’m stumbling along, not sure if I’m resisting or just drunk.
“Ares—”
“Don’t,” he says. Ice-cold. “Not a single word.”
I twist in his grip, half to pull away, half wanting to feel the strength of his fingers on me. to maybe snap. Do I want to see him lose it? Maybe.
The thought burns through me, tequila blazing in my veins.
Music fades, replaced by the slam of the club door and the slap of night air. Streetlights throw everything into sharp relief. I shiver; his fingers are still wrapped around me.
My heart’s basically molding in my chest. Wrist tingling, and hell if I want him to let go. I almost say so, but instead:
“You’re hurting me,” I lie, just to see what he does.
He drops my hand instantly. His jaw clenches, shadows flickering into his eyes,
“Why didn’t you go home?” He says in a gravel tone, like it hurts him to speak.
I tilted my head, grinning even though I should be ashamed. “Or what?”
His nostrils flare. His hands flare at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to reach for me
“You reek of alcohol.”
“I’m just having fun,” I say, swaying a little. The world tilts with me. “With my friend.”
“Fun?” He scoffs. “At a club, Lily? When did you start doing clubs?”
“How is that your business?” I counter. My voice sounds braver than I feel.
He steps closer. Close enough that I catch a whiff of cedar and pure, unfiltered rage.
“You’re just a kid.”
A kid. Not a woman. Not someone worth wanting. Just a burden in his care. A responsibilty he never asked for. Ouch.
Something sharp as glass burns in my chest , “You’re not my father.”
His jaw jumps again. “He asked me to watch you because you’re trouble.”
That one stings, all bitterness and bravado.
“Oh, so that's why you agreed to take me in? Am i now a charity case? Or your Doing this out of guilt?” I lean in, reckless as hell.
His eyes darken seriously; he looks like he might do something wild which makes my heart race..
“Don’t talk back at me, Lily.”
But I do, because I can’t help myself. The air suffocating between us, we’re both one wrong move from catching fire.
His breath ghosts across my lips, and his scent is smoke, sweat, and sin wrap around me. Suddenly, I want every bad thing. I look up at him, and for a heartbeat the world just…refuses to move.
He’s looking back at me.. Not like he’s supposed to, like he’s drowning in the same blaze I am in.
Then he blinks, jerks away, and shatters, whatever the hell that was.
“Get in the car.” His voice is wrecked.
“You can’t tell me what to do.” I say, my voice comes out small, Not half as bold as I want.
“Now, Lily.”
And that’s it. That tone. The one that strips away every bit of fight I’ve got.
My body listens before my pride can catch up.
Because for all my rebellion, all my recklessness, I wanted this. I wanted him to come for me. To drag me out of my own mess.To see me. To feel anything, even if it’s just anger.
I slide into the passenger seat, and the leather is cold against my bare thighs.
The silence that follows is heavier than the music ever was
The drive is wordless.
City lights flicker across his face, sharp angles, hard control and something I’m too afraid to name.
He grips the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping him from breaking it. or me.
I stare out the window, pretending not to notice the heat rolling off him in waves.
My head throbs. My chest aches.Is this how I wants to make Ares mine?
First a lady in his office, now this, me, drunk and desperate at a club.
Quiet sobs fills my eyes. I cant seem to do anything right Can I?
He doesn’t look at me. Not once.Not when I sigh or hold back my sobs,Not when I shift in my seat.
Not even when I whisper, “You didn’t have to come.”
But I know why he did.
He’s not saving me. He’s saving himself from what I make him feel.
Behind us, his driver follows in the BMW I stole earlier.
Another reminder of all the rules I broke tonight, All the lines i crossed. All for the man sittng beside me, breathing carefully controlled, refusing to glance once at me.
By the time we reach the mansion, the guilt’s settles deep in my bones.
The maids rush forward, eyes wide, whispers spilling between them as we pull up.
Ares hands his keys over without a word, and shrugs off his coat with a cold hands
“Get her to bed,” he orders. “And make some hangover soup.”
“Yes, sir,” one of them says, taking my arm gently.
He turns to leave, shirt half undone, his jaw still locked tight.
It takes so much in me to call out to him to apologize, to say anything that might break the this terrible silence between us.
“Uncle–” i managed to say. My legs are weak, so is my heart.
His head turns slightly, not enough to see me but just long enough to see the rigid line of his jaw.
He continues walking.
- Writer
