CHAPTER 3: DINNER WITH THE DEVIL
1370 Words
Dinner with Damien Ashford.
One rule: Don't lie to him.
But when his hand brushed her thigh under the table, Ellie forgot every rule she knew.
"You're trembling," he whispered. "Is it fear? Or something else?"
She didn't have an answer. She only knew she couldn't breathe.
Morning came without sunlight. The Blackwood Tower was always dark. Always cold. Like its owner.
Ellie woke to silence. No footsteps outside her door. No Damien. Just the city humming ninety floors below.
A black dress lay on the chair. Simple. Sleeveless. Expensive. No note. No instructions. Just expectation.
She understood. She had no choice.
At exactly 8 PM, the elevator doors opened to the dining room. Black marble table. One chair at each end. Candles flickering. No staff. No noise. Just him.
Damien stood when she entered. Black suit. No tie. Sleeves rolled up. His steel gray eyes swept over her slowly. From her face to the dress to her bare legs.
“Sit,” he said.
Ellie sat. The chair was too big. She felt small. Trapped.
Damien poured wine. Red. Dark like blood. He didn’t ask if she wanted it. He just placed the glass in front of her.
“Eat,” he commanded.
The food was perfect. Steak. Rare. She didn’t remember ordering. She didn’t remember speaking since last night.
Silence stretched between them. Heavy. Uncomfortable. Dangerous.
“You didn’t try to run,” Damien said finally. Voice low. Cutting through the quiet.
Ellie looked up. “Where would I go? ”
“Exactly.” His mouth curved. Not a smile. “You’re learning fast.”
She hated that he was right. Hated that she felt safer here than anywhere else.
Damien stood. Walked around the table. Stopped behind her chair. She felt his presence before she felt his hands on the backrest. Close. Too close.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
Ellie turned. He was standing behind her now. His shadow fell over her. His cologne wrapped around her. Whiskey. Power. Control.
“You tremble,” he whispered. His breath hit her ear. “Is it fear, Ellie? Or something else? ”
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. Her throat was dry.
Damien’s hand came down. Not on her shoulder. On the table beside her plate. His fingers brushed her thigh under the tablecloth. Just for a second. Just enough.
Fire shot through her veins.
She gasped. Sucked in air. Her whole body went still.
Damien didn’t move his hand. “Answer me.”
“Fear,” she whispered. Lie.
“Liar,” he said softly. His thumb traced circles on her thigh. Slow. Possessive. “I can feel your pulse. It’s not fear, Ellie. It wants."
Heat flooded her face. She slapped his hand away. Stood up. Chair screeching against marble.
“Don’t touch me! ” she snapped. Voice shaking.
Damien didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. He just looked at her. Those steel gray eyes seeing everything.
“You signed a contract,” he said quietly. “My touch is part of the terms now.”
“I didn’t read the fine print! ”
“You should have.” He stepped closer. Now they were face to face. Inches apart. “Rule one, Ellie. Don’t lie to me. Rule two. Don’t run from me. You broke both tonight.”
Her heart hammered. “What happens now? Punishment? ”
Damien’s gaze dropped to her lips. Then back to her eyes. Dark. Hungry.
“Not yet,” he murmured. “But soon. When you stop lying to yourself.”
He walked back to his seat. Sat down. Like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t just set her body on fire.
“Sit,” he said again.
Ellie sat. Shaking. Confused. Angry. Wanting.
Dinner continued in silence. But the air was different now. Charged. Electric. Every time his eyes met hers, she felt it. That burn.
When the plates were empty, Damien stood. “Follow me.”
He led her to the windows. The entire city spread out below them. Lights like stars. Power like his.
“Do you see it, Ellie? ” he asked. Voice soft now. Almost gentle. “Everything you see is mine. And now, so are you.”
She stood beside him. Close enough to feel his heat. Far enough to pretend she wasn’t tempted.
“You’re not a prisoner here,” Damien said. “You’re a guest. For now. But guests who break rules…” He paused. Turned to her. “Guests who break rules learn consequences.”
His hand came up. One finger lifted her chin. Forcing her to meet his eyes.
“One year,” he whispered. “Three hundred sixty-five nights. I wonder how many of them you’ll spend fighting me. And how many you’ll spend begging me.”
Ellie’s breath caught. “I would never beg you.”
Damien smiled. Finally. Real smile. Cold and beautiful and terrifying.
“We’ll see,” he said.
He dropped his hand and walked away. Dismissed her again.
Ellie stood there, heart racing, skin burning where he touched her. She hated him. She feared him.
But when he looked at her like that, she wanted him too.
And that scared her more than anything.
Back in the guest room, she locked the door. Pressed her back against it. Her thighs still burned from his touch.
She pressed her hands to her face and whispered, “What is wrong with me? ”
No answer came. Only the memory of his voice. Soft. Dangerous. Possessive.
“You’re mine, Ellie.”
And deep down, she knew it was true.
Her phone buzzed once on the nightstand. She didn’t have a phone. The Castrovillas took it.
Ellie crossed the room slowly. On the black marble table was a new phone. Plain black. No charger. No box. Just a message on the screen.
_Rule one: Don’t lie to me. Rule two: Don’t ignore my texts. Rule three: You answer when I call. - D_
Her hands shook as she picked it up. Another message appeared instantly.
*Damien:* You’re still awake.
*Damien:* I can hear your heart from my room, Ellie.
She looked at the door. Solid black. Soundproof. But somehow... He knew.
*Ellie:* How?
*Damien:* Because you’re mine now. I know everything about you.
Ellie’s breath caught. She wanted to throw the phone. Wanted to break it. But she didn’t. Because he was right.
She typed with trembling fingers.
*Ellie:* I hate you.
*Damien:* Lie.
*Damien:* Sleep, Ellie. Tomorrow you move to the master wing. Closer to me. Where you belong.
The phone went dark.
Ellie stood there in the silence of his tower, ninety floors above the world. The city was chaos below. But up here, there was only him. Only his rules. Only his voice in her head.
She slid the phone under her pillow like it was burning her skin.
Then she lay down. Eyes open. Staring at the ceiling.
She didn’t sleep.
She waited.
For him. For morning. For the next rule she would break.
Because the devil had given her his number.
And she was starting to think she wanted to use it.
Her thumb hovered over the screen. The phone was cold. Like him. But the messages were hot. Like fire.
She wanted to block him. Wanted to throw it out the window ninety floors down.
Instead, her fingers moved on their own. Typing words she didn’t plan.
*Ellie:* Why me?
She deleted it. Too vulnerable. Too real.
She tried again.
*Ellie:* I’m not yours.
She deleted that too. Because the lie tasted bitter.
The screen stayed blank. Her heart didn’t.
Her heart didn’t stop racing. Didn’t slow down. Didn’t remember how to be normal.
Every beat whispered his name. Damien. Damien. Damien.
She pressed the phone to her chest like it could hurt her less if it were closer. Like his words through the screen were less dangerous than his voice in the room.
But they weren’t. Nothing about him was safe.
The tower was silent. The city was sleeping. But Ellie was wide awake.
Trapped between wanting to run and wanting to stay.
Between hating him and wanting him to come back.
Between fear and fire.
And the fire was winning.
**TO BE CONTINUED...**
- Writer
