When The Devil Wants

Chapter Four

(Eleanor's POV)

The room went silent, only Marcus's ragged breathing could be heard. His eyes bounced to me, then to Lucian, and back to me again.

"Well.. Hello brother," Lucian dragged out, his voice tinged with danger and a hint of.. Mockery?.

"How are you still alive?" Marcus finally found his voice, one that was filled with rage, now subdued.

"I guess you didn't do a good job," Lucian scowled, his face holding pent-up resentment. The air froze at his words, the unseen danger lingering in the atmosphere, Marcus took a threatening step forward. My heart stumped against my ribcage, tension building within me. Just what were these two thinking. The air got thicker, Lucian's calm clearly dominating Marcus's rage. Then, without warning.

— Achooo!!

My hands flew to my mouth, the tiny sound broke through the air, further embarrassing me. I hoped the ground would open up and swallow me.

Lucian took a look at me, his eyes scanned my body as if searching for something. He took two steps back, then I felt something warm being placed on my shoulders, it was the jacket on the seat.

"I thought I told you to wear this," Lucian scolded, but his voice was mild and warm, just like the feel of the jacket.

"Uhhm...I...."

"Just what are you two doing," a clear voice cut me off. Marcus stared at us, the question mark on his head pretty obvious.

"What do you think we're doing," Lucian smirked.

"Get away from my wife,"Marcus squeezed out, his fists clenched tightly by his sides.

"Your wife?.." Lucian laughed, not the warm one I had heard earlier, his voice cold, the sound coming out as more of a warning,

"Then what do you call the one who hung on your arm tonight like candy?" Lucian tilted his head.

The question caught me off guard; had he seen?

"That's none of your business," Marcus spat. "Eleanor is still my wife."

Lucian's jaw ticked, words unsaid, then he turned his head, his eyes finding mine over his shoulder.

"Eleanor," he said my name like a vow,

" Do you want to go with him," he once again gave me a choice.

Marcus sucked in a breath, "Eleanor, don't you dare—"

"I didn't ask you, Marcus," Lucian cut him off without looking, the chill in the air returned.

I moved forward slowly, my heels whispering on the floor, two steps past Lucian and I stopped. Marcus reached for me.

"Come here, Ellie." His inviting hands looked more like chains to me, ones I desperately wanted to run from.

I turned to Lucian, his eyes were fully fixated on me. I slowly took off the jacket, his shoulders slumped, defeat flashing across his face, then under his gaze, I slid my hands into the jacket, fully wearing it. My choice now vividly clear.

"Eleanor—"

"Sorry brother, you're too late," Lucian smiled, victory dancing in his tone.

"This isn't over, Ellie, you will be back," the threat cut across my heart, I would be back. I always went back, and Marcus knew this.

He turned around, his feet finding their way to the door, he cast another glance at us, his eyes shooting lasers, then he walked out.

"Were you scared just now?" Lucian probed. He guided me back to the seat, then spoke again,

" Now about our deal,"

"I have to go, Lucian," I breathed out, his storm-grey eyes flew towards me.

"What's wrong, you don't believe he'll hurt you. Do you?" Lucian asked. His tone was patient.

"No it's not that," my eyes darted across the room. I stood up. My eyes moved to the untouched whiskey on the table, a deal we hadn't sealed.

"Let me take you home," he spoke.

"There's no need for that," I took off the jacket again, the cold air hit my skin, sending shivers all the way to my spine.

"Keep it, you need it more than I do," he urged, clearly referring to the jacket.

"And I still insist on taking you home. I need to know you got home safe," he looked at me, silently asking for permission.

"Fine." I gave up, he moved forward, and I trailed behind, my thoughts no longer steady.

The elevator doors slid shut, locking us in the tiny space together. Silence followed, thick and heavy, his muscular scent filling the entire space.

"I'm sorry Len," his voice sounded, confusing me even more.

"For what," I stared up at his figure, his back slightly hunched over like he was regretting something.

"For being late."

I didn't answer him, I had no answer. My mind was still running on today's events, what had he meant by Marcus not doing a good job, how did he know about Stella, and what was he late for. The questions locked on my mind.

The elevator doors opened, he strutted out first. I followed behind. The noise from the dinner night slowly died out behind us.

He opened the car door, and I slid in. Ridding myself of all the intrusive thoughts, I calmed a bit.

My phone buzzed, it was a text from Marcus, just two words;

'I'm waiting'.

Lucian looked down, catching a glimpse of the name, then without a word he continued staring straight ahead, like he wasn't affected, but his clenched jaws said otherwise.

I turned off my phone and chucked it into my clutch.

The silence lingered in the car. The drive home took longer than usual. Then he dropped me off, words left unsaid. Before driving off, he took another look at me,

“Call me if you need me,” his words sounded like a promise. I didn't even realize when I nodded, he smiled and got into the car.

The car sped into the darkness, my mind becoming aware of my surroundings, I was back, just like he said.

I stepped into the building, the familiar silence enveloping me.

From the door I could see a silhouette on the wide parlor sofa. I visibly flinched, the confidence I had earlier was nowhere to be found.

My voice came out cracked and low. “Who are you?” the words had barely settled when a hand wrapped around my mouth. Muffling whatever I wanted to say next. I struggled. But it only made it worse.

The figure on the sofa didn't move amidst all my struggle. My eyes began to blur from the pain. And just when I was about to pass out from the pain. He spoke.