You can’t tell if the devil is saving you or collecting you when he smiles like that.
The door shuts with a finality that makes my skin crawl.
Then the locks click.
And suddenly, it’s just us.
Him. Me. And the kind of silence that doesn’t mean peace—only pressure.
I don’t speak. I refuse to be the first.
But the air inside this car is... suffocating.
Not because of the space. God, no. The interior is the size of a hotel room, all black leather and glowing blue lights, the kind of polished, armored elegance that makes you forget this is still a vehicle. It hums like a predator, smooth and deep, devouring every sound of the outside world.
He sits with one arm stretched over the backseat, relaxed like he’s at home, his eyes focused on the dark city outside as if he’s already bored.
A
