THE DEVIL IN HER
1275 Words
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Chapter 3 – The Temptation Game
The afternoon sun hung lazily over the city skyline, draping golden light across the glass towers. The air was heavy with the scent of coffee and car exhaust, and the constant hum of traffic filled the streets.
Helena David had just finished a long meeting with one of her father’s clients at The Lexington Plaza, a prestigious high-rise downtown. She looked sharp as always — black pencil skirt, crisp cream blouse, and hair pinned neatly back. Her poise made her look untouchable, but inside, she was exhausted.
She stepped out of the elevator, clutching her portfolio, ready to head home. But as she walked into the lobby, a familiar voice cut through the air.
“Helena?”
She turned sharply — and there she was. Samantha Wells, leaning against a marble pillar, sunglasses perched on her head, her smirk dangerously casual.
Helena exhaled, half-surprised, half-annoyed. “What are you doing here?”
Samantha grinned. “Business meeting. Same building. Guess fate wanted another round.”
Helena rolled her eyes. “Right. Fate. Or stalking.”
Samantha laughed. “I don’t stalk. I just… appear in the right places at the right time.”
She stepped closer, her perfume soft but distinct — something warm and expensive. “You look tense. How about we fix that?”
“Fix it how?” Helena asked, wary.
“A drink. Just one. There’s a lounge nearby — The Velvet Room. You’ll like it. Quiet, dark, no reporters, no business talk.”
Helena hesitated. “We already had one drink, remember? And you nearly charmed half the bar staff.”
“That’s because I was nervous,” Samantha teased. “This time I’ll behave. Promise.”
Helena chuckled under her breath. “You don’t seem like the kind of woman who keeps promises.”
Samantha tilted her head. “Maybe not. But I’m the kind who keeps people curious.”
There was something in her tone — part mischief, part sincerity — that made Helena’s guard slip just a little.
“Fine,” Helena said finally. “One drink. Then I’m leaving.”
Samantha’s smile deepened. “Perfect. I’ll drive.”
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They stepped out into the late afternoon glow, Samantha unlocking her sleek black Tesla with a tap. The city pulsed around them — people moving fast, horns blaring, neon lights just starting to flicker alive.
Helena settled into the passenger seat, glancing sideways at Samantha. “You always this persistent?”
“Only with things — or people — worth chasing,” Samantha said smoothly, eyes fixed on the road.
Helena shook her head, hiding a smile. “You’re impossible.”
“I’ve been called worse,” Samantha murmured.
The drive was short but electric, every silence charged. They reached The Velvet Room, an upscale bar tucked into a side street, glowing with amber light and low jazz music.
Inside, the atmosphere was intimate — red velvet booths, golden chandeliers, and the faint hum of conversation. Samantha led the way to a secluded corner.
“Wine?” Samantha asked.
“Whiskey,” Helena corrected. “On ice.”
“Now that I didn’t expect,” Samantha said with a grin. “A woman of mystery.”
“And what are you?” Helena asked. “A woman of chaos?”
“Something like that,” Samantha said, swirling her glass. “But tonight, I’m just someone enjoying good company.”
For a while, they talked — about business, about cities, about the pressure of living up to family names. The conversation slipped easily between teasing and truth. Helena found herself laughing — genuinely — something she hadn’t done in weeks.
Then, as the night deepened, Samantha leaned in slightly. “You know… I like this side of you.”
“What side?”
“The one that doesn’t always try to win.”
Helena looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly. “And what side is this of you?”
Samantha’s lips curved. “The side that’s tired of pretending I don’t notice how stunning you are.”
The air between them thickened — charged, unspoken, dangerous.
Helena blinked, caught off guard, but before she could respond — someone’s voice sliced through the haze.
“Samantha?”
They both turned.
Standing a few feet away, jaw clenched and eyes dark with confusion, was Ethan — Samantha’s boyfriend. Handsome, confident, and clearly furious.
“Ethan,” Samantha said slowly, like the name tasted strange.
“What’s going on?” he demanded. “I’ve been calling you for hours. Who’s this?”
Helena straightened, instantly uncomfortable. “I should go—”
But Samantha stood, her voice cutting through sharply. “Sit down, Helena.”
Ethan frowned. “So that’s it? You’re ditching me for her now?”
People in nearby booths were starting to glance over. Samantha’s jaw tightened. The devil in her — the one that hated being cornered — came alive.
“Ethan,” she said coolly, “you’re making a scene. And this—” she gestured between them “—is none of your business.”
“None of my business?” he snapped. “I’m your boyfriend!”
Samantha laughed — low and cold. “Boyfriend? Oh, please. You’re a temporary hobby I outgrew.”
Gasps rippled around the bar.
Helena’s eyes widened, shocked. “Samantha—”
But Samantha wasn’t done. She stepped closer to Ethan, voice low and razor-sharp. “Let me make it simple. Whatever you think this is — it isn’t. So stop following me around like a lost dog.”
Ethan’s face turned red with anger. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Thank you,” she said, smiling darkly.
He stormed out, shoving past the waiter. The entire room buzzed with whispers.
Helena sat frozen, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “You didn’t have to humiliate him like that.”
Samantha turned back to her, expression unreadable. “He shouldn’t have followed me.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
Samantha leaned closer, her tone softening — a perfect mix of apology and manipulation. “Maybe not. But I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to spend time with you.”
Helena met her gaze — searching for sincerity and finding too much of it. Or maybe it was something else entirely.
“Why me, Samantha?” she asked quietly.
“Because you’re the only person in that boardroom who made me feel like I wasn’t just another name,” Samantha whispered. “You challenged me. You saw through me.”
Helena shook her head, unsure whether to believe her. “You’re trouble.”
Samantha smiled faintly. “I know.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The soft jazz music filled the silence. Outside, the city lights shimmered against the windows.
Then Helena stood. “I should go.”
Samantha rose too. “Let me drive you.”
“No,” Helena said quickly. “I’ll call a cab.”
Samantha nodded slowly, but there was a flicker of something vulnerable in her eyes. “Okay. But… can I see you again?”
Helena hesitated, then sighed. “Maybe. If you promise not to start a public fight next time.”
Samantha’s lips curved. “No promises.”
As Helena walked toward the door, Samantha watched her go — that confident stride, that quiet strength. And for the first time, Samantha felt something she hadn’t expected.
It wasn’t control.
It wasn’t victory.
It was fear.
Fear that the game she started was slowly turning into something real — and that the devil in her heart was in something real
- Writer
