When The Devil Wants

Chapter Five

(Eleanor's POV)

"You're back"

Marcus's voice rolled over me like a blade. Low. Tired. No rage left, just certainty.

His silhouette on the sofa didn't move. Just the glow of his whiskey glass catching the light as he tilted it. Two fingers, neat.

The hand on my mouth didn't move. I resisted struggling anymore. I was in his territory after all. The jacket Lucian gave me suddenly felt too heavy. Too warm. Like evidence.

"I knew you'd come back," Marcus continued; he set down the glass. The sound cracked through the silent penthouse. "You always do, Ellie."

He stood up. Slow and measured. The way he always did when he wanted me to notice how big he was compared to me, he moved closer.

His eyes dropped to my shoulders, to the jacket. His jaw ticked.

"You brought back his clothing," his voice was flat, more like he was saying it to himself.

"You think wearing his jacket means something," Marcus chuckled. He reached out, thumb brushing the fabric on my shoulder.

"It doesn't. You'll take it off when I tell you to. And you'll forget his name by morning." His words were heavy, he meant everything he said.

But something was different tonight. My heart didn't pounce against my ribs, my hands didn't shake. Because I had already made a choice.

“Let her go,” he spoke to the person behind me. The hand slowly lifted from my mouth, air rushed into my lungs. The footsteps behind me backed away from the room.

" Take off the jacket, Ellie,"his eyes narrowed. I swallowed hard, my throat was dry. Hunger had nothing to do with it this time.

"No." My voice came out stronger than I expected, one word that I had held back for so long. For half a second his mask cracked, confusion. Then anger.

He grabbed my wrists, his fingers digging into my skin. I knew that would definitely leave a bruise, but I couldn't care less.

"Don't tell me you've fallen for my brother," Marcus sneered, disgust passing across his face.

"Take it off, and I'll pretend tonight never happened. We'll go back to how things were."

How things were? I scowled at his words.

Then my fingers moved, I pulled the jacket tighter around me. Zipped it up, slowly, until the collar brushed against my collarbone. The scent filled my nose, warmth settled over my shoulders.

Marcus let go of my hand. His hand dropped, he stepped back like I'd burned him. Disbelief flashing across his face.

"You don't mean that" it wasn't a command anymore, it was a question.

I took one step sideways, towards the hallway that led to my room, not sparing him another glance.

"You'll be back," Marcus said again, but the certainty was gone from his voice, his words sounded more like a prayer. I scoffed.

I always come back, but not this time.

"You think he wants you?," Marcus laughed, but it was thin. Desperate. "Lucian Vale doesn't have time for women," he spoke again. As if to assure himself. My hands paused on the door knob. The coldness of the metal traveling through my arm.

I didn't turn around. "Then why are you scared," I asked him. He didn't say a word, silence followed.

I pulled open the door and stepped into the room, then paused halfway in,

"You're right about one thing," I made sure he could hear me.

"I will forget you by morning." I let the words sink in, then I shut the door behind me. Shutting out everything else. Tomorrow I will face the music, but tonight we put it all behind us and sleep.

The morning light was thin and pale, sunlight seeped through the curtains and warmed my face until I could no longer pretend I was asleep.

Then my phone rang. Tiffany.

I groaned as I picked it up, then swiped at the answer button. "Hello?"

"Eleanor Thornhill, do you know what time it is?" Tiffany's voice crashed through the speaker, loud, bright, and way too alive for 9am.

"You're late for our spa plans. Again. I was two seconds from sending a search party."

I sat up slowly, sheets tangling around my legs. My fingers dragged through my locs, trying to fight the knots. An everyday struggle I went through.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I slept in."

"Slept in? Since when does the woman who sets three alarms to avoid being late sleep in" her disbelief evident in her tone. Then she paused. Her breathing shifted.

"You okay?" you sound... Different."

I laughed. It surprised me how clear it sounded, warm, real. "Different?" I pressed the phone closer. "How so?"

There was a pause, then she spoke again, the teasing gone "I can't place a finger on it. But talk to me, Ellie. Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," I chuckled. "You worry too much, Tiff," I assured her.

Tiffany inhaled," Then girl, get your pretty ass up and get dressed, I'm picking you up in five," she ordered, excitement dancing in her tone.

"Five?" I choked out a laugh. " Tiffany, I'm not even—"

"No excuses, ma'am." She cut me off. "Spa day, massages, you're coming, and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer," she threatened.

"Hmm," I hummed, a slow smile curling my lips as I crept out of bed.

I stumbled into the bathroom. Then turned on the shower, I let the water hit my skin, the cold sensation loosening the knots in my body. The feeling leaving me partly numb.

Minutes later, I was almost ready. A soft knock landed on the door. “Ma'am, you have a visitor,” Martha announced from the other end.

Why was Tiffany so fast? I adjusted the hem of my dress as I pulled my purse from the drawer. Finally done, I opened the doors to Martha still standing there.

“She's in the living room, ma,” Martha gave a curt bow as I walked past her, then I stopped. “Tiffany's not a visitor, Martha.” I smiled gently at her.

“It's not Ms. Tiffany,” she replied. I stilled as my steps slowed, my eyes moved to the figure balanced comfortably on the couch. Someone I never expected to see, my voice sharp as I took a step forward.

“What are you doing here?”