Flowers for the Devil

Chapter 2

“What exactly did Agatha give you, mia cara?” Draven’s voice was ice, but his eyes were fire.

The kind that burns cities. I couldn’t answer. My head was spinning, my skin was too hot, and his hands on my waist were the only thing keeping me upright.

The drug Agatha gave me was making me stupid. Desperate. All I could think was more. More of his scent. More of his touch. More of him.

“M-Maxine,” he said my name like a prayer and a curse.

“Look at me.” I forced my eyes to meet his.

Big mistake.

Because the rage I saw there wasn’t for me. It was for whoever did this to me. “

You’re burning up,” he murmured, his thumb brushing my cheek. Gentle. Too gentle for a mafia heir. “She drugged you.” It wasn’t a question. It was a death sentence.

Before I could protest, he stood in one fluid motion, scooping me into his arms like I weighed nothing. I gasped, clutching his suit jacket out of instinct. He smelled like whiskey, danger, and something dark I couldn’t name. Something that made my drugged brain whisper safe.

“Put me down,” I mumbled, but it came out slurred. Weak.

“I can walk—” “No, you can’t,” he cut me off. “And if I put you down, you’ll do something stupid. Like kiss me again.” My face flamed.

Jusko, narinig niya. I buried my face in his chest to hide.

He let out a dark chuckle that vibrated through me.

“Don’t be embarrassed, mia cara. I’ve been thinking about that kiss since you walked into my room.” He carried me out of Room 235 like he owned the entire Velvet Room. Because he probably did.

The staff didn’t even look at us. But I saw Richelle and Agatha stopped to what they are doing. They just cleared the path, heads down, pretending not to see the mafia boss carrying a drunk janitor in his arms. The cold night air hit my face when we stepped outside. It helped. A little.

But the heat was still there, coiling low in my stomach, making me squirm.

“Stop moving,” Draven growled, his grip tightening. “Unless you want me to forget I’m a gentleman.” I froze.

Gentleman?

This man had a scar on his eyebrow and eyes that promised murder. Nothing about him screamed gentleman. His black car was waiting. The driver opened the door without a word, eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

Draven slid into the backseat with me still in his arms. He didn’t let go. Not even when the car started moving.

“S-sir, where are we—”

“Draven,” he corrected, his voice sharp.

“My name is Draven. Say it.” “D-Draven,” I whispered.

Saying his name felt intimate. Wrong. Right.

“Good girl.” His approval sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the drug.

“We’re going home. You need to sleep this off.”

Home.

The word sounded foreign. I hadn’t had a home since I was seven.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, we were in an elevator. Glass walls.

The city spread below us like scattered diamonds. Penthouse. Of course. Where else would the devil live but in the sky? He carried me through doors that opened with a fingerprint scan, past rooms bigger than my entire tree house, and into a bedroom that could fit three jeepneys.

Everything was black, grey, and white. Cold. Expensive. Empty. Just like him.

He laid me down on a bed that felt like a cloud. I immediately missed his warmth. “Sleep,” he ordered, pulling a thick blanket over me.

“I’ll have my doctor check you in the morning.” He turned to leave. And panic clawed at my throat.

The drug was still making me stupid, making me clingy, making me terrified of being alone in this huge, cold place.

“Don’t go,” I blurted, grabbing his wrist. My hand looked tiny and brown against his pale skin.

“Please. Don’t leave me.” Draven stilled.

Slowly, like he was afraid he’d break me, he turned back. He crouched beside the bed so we were eye level. Up close, I could see flecks of gold in his ice eyes. I could see how tired he was. How old. Not in years, but in blood.

“I’m not leaving you, Maxine,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

I woke up feeling like someone was pressing down on me. I could barely move my body.

As I opened my eyes, I saw a tattoo on his shoulder, a dragon, a big, angry dragon. Suddenly, I felt nervous because I realized I was in a different place. Gray and black were the colors I saw. Expensive things surrounded me, things I was afraid to even touch.

Slowly, I removed his hands that were resting on my stomach. I don’t know why, but this was terrifying.

I needed to get out of there immediately. Even though it was scary, I forced myself to leave, even though it was still dawn. It was 5 AM, according to his expensive clock.

There was no one around, not even a taxi. It was a village where only billionaires could live.

“Hi, are you new here?” I was shocked because I thought I was alone, but there was a man jogging nearby.

“Ah, no. And I’m not a thief either,” I quickly said because his look made me uneasy.

“I didn’t say you were a thief. Who let you in here?” he asked, frowning.

“Ah, excuse me, I’ll go ahead. I’m in a hurry,” I said before running off.

He called after me, but I didn’t stop.

When I got home, I immediately rested.

I woke up early because I had to collect my salary from the bar. I planned to quit working there and look for another job. With the ten thousand salary and my savings, I would buy a cellphone and use it for work.

As I went to the bar, I felt nervous, afraid I might see him again.

As I opened the door, a hand greeted me.

“How dare you try to steal Mr. Montero from me!” she angrily said, making me freeze.

I instinctively touched my cheek where she hurt me.

“Who is that?” I immediately asked.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. The one you served last night? Agatha, you told me he was the one I should serve.”

“Why did you sleep with him?” she hised.

“You drugged me, remember?”

Everyone inside listened to us. It was humiliating.

“I thought it wasn’t him!” she shouted at me.

“Then it wasn’t my fault. It’s your fault because, in the first place, it wasn’t my job. You forced me, offered me a large amount of money, and even made me drink. You’re the one who stole him, not me!”

“I didn’t steal anyone from you, Agatha. You caused this, so don’t blame me. My only mistake was agreeing to your worthless offer.”

I wanted to slap her, but I held back because not everything should be solved with violence.

After I got my salary, I left. I went to a shop and bought a cellphone. I was supposed to be excited, but the feeling was gone.

The next day, I decided to rest first before looking for another job. I was tired of selling roses anyway, and I still had enough money left.

Looking for a job was exhausting.

“There!” I shouted with excitement when I saw a “Wanted: Maid” sign.

“Hello!” I rang the doorbell.

“What is it?” a grumpy woman came out.

“Is the maid position still available?” I asked politely.

“That’s not ours, it’s from an agency. Can’t you see?” she shouted.

“Then why are you shouting? You act like you’re so beautiful,” I muttered

I saved the number and email of the agency and went home.

I submitted my requirements and waited. Four weeks passed, and I still didn’t have a job.

“What will I eat next?” I sighed.

As I came out of the bathroom, my phone rang. Good news — they told me to go to the agency office. Maybe I was accepted, because why else would they call me?

I immediately went to buy a cellphone. It was my dream.

“How much is the Vivo?” I asked when I saw its nice color and camera.

“5000 ma’am, including tempered glass and casing.”

“Really? Okay, I’ll take it.”

“What color? We have purple, black, and silver.”

“Purple, of course,” I said quickly. Purple was my favorite.

After five minutes, everything was set up, so I left and went to the agency. They told me to come at 1 o’clock, but I arrived early because I was excited. The guard let me in after I gave my name — apparently, I was scheduled.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” I greeted as soon as she sat down.

“Good afternoon. I just want to interview you.” She was intimidating, like she could eat someone alive.

“Have you experienced taking care of children or the elderly?”

“Yes, ma’am. I lived in an orphanage where there were many children. I helped take care of them. But with the elderly, no.”

“So you’ll be assigned to children only. Do you know house chores?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve had many jobs before.”

“Okay, we’ll call you again when someone hires you.”

“Okay, thank you, ma’am.”

I left, still nervous, but it wasn’t so bad.

“Working here?” I was shocked when someone spoke.

I looked around to see if he was talking to someone else, but then I realized he was talking to me.

“I was talking to you. Will you stop looking around?” he said directly.

“Ah, I’m just applying,” I replied. When our eyes met, I remembered him.

“You’re the one I met in the village, right?” I asked quickly.

“Yeah. What are you applying for?”

“Maid.”

The elevator opened, and he left without another word.

I went home excited because I had a cellphone.

I immediately made a f*******: account and added Richelle, my best friend. She messaged me right away.

“Girl, someone’s looking for you here.” Her words made me nervous.

“Who?”

“Mr. Moritte, oh my God.”

I panicked at her message. Maybe it really was better to stop selling roses — he might kill me right away.