An Offer From the Devil.
786 Words
Caius doesn’t answer my question.
Not right away.
He just sips his drink, watching me with that same unreadable smirk.
Then, finally he speaks.
“Does it really matter?”
I freeze. “Excuse me?”
Caius tilts his head, studying me like I’m an equation he’s already solved. “You’ve already signed the contract. You’re already mine.”
His words settle over me like a steel cage.
I take a slow breath. “I’m not yours.”
His smirk widens, but there’s something sharp beneath it. “Not yet.”
I should be afraid. Maybe I am.
But fear won’t save me.
So instead, I do the one thing Caius doesn’t expect. I smile.
“We’ll see.”
The next morning, I wake up to chaos.
My phone won’t stop buzzing.
I grab it, scrolling through the flood of messages.
News alerts.
Headlines.
“Zariah Delacroix’s Engagement Raises More Questions Than Answers.”
“Caius Wolfe: The Billionaire Bodyguard or a Killer in Disguise?”
“Anonymous Source Claims Leon Delacroix’s Death Was an Inside Job.”
That last one makes my blood run cold.
An inside job.
Someone close to Leon wanted him dead.
And now, someone wants me to know it.
Before I can process it, a new text comes through.
From an unknown number.
If you want answers, come to the Black Orchid. 10 PM. Come alone.
My heart pounds.
The Black Orchid is one of the most exclusive clubs in the city. Owned by the Delacroix family.
Whoever sent this knows something and they want to meet me on my turf.
Time to make my own move.
That night, I don’t tell Caius where I’m going.
I don’t ask permission.
I just dress the part. Black silk dress, sharp heels, and a mask of confidence. I slip out before he notices.
The club is alive with music, flashing lights, the hum of power.
I move through the crowd, scanning for whoever sent the message.
Then, i see a man in a dark suit, leaning casually against the bar, swirling a glass of whiskey. Must be him.
He looks up. Smiles. My breath hitches.
Because I know him.
Damien Renard.
My family’s lawyer.
Valeria’s right-hand man.
Leon’s enemy.
“Zariah,” he says smoothly, lifting his glass in a mock toast. “It’s been a long time.”
I don’t sit. I don’t move. “You sent the message.”
Damien chuckles. “I did.”
My pulse pounds. “Why?”
He leans in slightly, his voice dropping just for me.
“Because you’re playing the wrong game.”
I narrow my eyes. “And you think you know the right one?”
Damien smiles, slow and knowing. “You think Caius Wolfe is your biggest threat.”
Something in his tone makes my stomach twist. “And he’s not?”
Damien swirls his drink. “Caius is dangerous. But predictable.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And?”
Damien’s smile fades. “The person who really killed Leon? They aren’t predictable.”
My breath catches. “You know who it is.”
He nods. “I do.”
A beat of silence.
Then, Damien leans forward, his voice dark and deliberate.
“But I won’t tell you for free.”
My fingers tighten around my glass. “What do you want?”
His gaze flickers with amusement. “That’s the real question, isn’t it?”
Before I can respond, I feel it. A presence.
A shadow looming behind me.
A hand wraps around my wrist.
I barely have time to react before I’m being pulled away from the bar, spun around. Right into Caius Wolfe’s furious gaze.
Checkmate
The club fades away.
All I see is Caius.
His grip on my wrist is tight, controlled rage simmering beneath the surface.
“Did I not tell you to stay close to me?” His voice is low, lethal.
I lift my chin. “I don’t take orders.”
Caius doesn’t smile. “You do now.”
I yank my arm free. “I came here for answers.”
He steps closer. “And you thought Damien Renard would give them to you?”
Something sharp flickers in his eyes, something possessive, something dangerous.
I shake my head. “You don’t own me, Caius.”
His smirk returns, slow and dangerous.
“No,” he murmurs. “But I own this game. And you just made your first mistake.”
My stomach knots.
I don’t know if he’s talking about Damien. Or himself.
But one thing is clear, Caius Wolfe won’t let me go that easily.
And in this game of power and betrayal…
I just became his favorite piece to play.
- Writer
