I watched her walk toward the gate as if she knew where she was going. And just like that, a small smile crept onto my face.
Chapter 11 —Eva
Demyon Tarasov.
What kind of name was that?
Demyon.
It sounded a lot likedemonto me.
I lay in bed the next day, replaying the incident from the night before. I’d tried to get under his skin on purpose, and judging by the way he reacted, it was clear it was a job well done.
After I’d left the party as though I had an idea where I was going, he followed me in his SUV, demanding that I get inside. At first, I hesitated, despite the cold biting into my furry coat. However, I did hop in, and he drove us back to the mansion.
I hadn’t seen him since. He was gone by the time I woke up this morning. It should be nice to have the whole house to myself, despite the guards watching my every move. However, for some reason, I found the silence rather deafening.
Staring blankly at the ceiling, I tapped my big toes together, my mind reeling from last night’s events. No matter how hard I tried to push those memories to the back of my mind, they just wouldn’t stay buried.
Maybe under different circumstances, I would’ve hinted at how dashing he looked in that black trench coat and hat. He gave off a vibe of sexy but dangerous. The very second I saw him waiting downstairs, I knew his attractiveness would be a huge distraction for me.
There was something about his looks that pulled me in. Each time he locked eyes with me, I felt weak in the knees. I hated how my body was beginning to betray me whenever I was around this man.
It was almost like I was starting to forget that I was his prisoner and he was my captor.
I rolled to the other side of the bed, clutching a pillow to my chest. My heart pounded as I dared to reminisce about how I’d felt when he wrapped his hand around my waist. His action stemmed from sheer jealousy; he hated that I was enjoying another man’s company.
His jealousy was the least of my problems right now, considering the strange emotion his touch stirred in me that night. His hand around my waist was both protective and possessive at the same time.
He thought I was having a good time with the young man, but he was wrong. I was only trying to get a reaction out of him. All that hype about how dashing and talented the young man was was nothing but a trick to reveal his jealous side.
Honestly, given the kind of man he was—demonic and strangely powerful—I’d had my doubts about how he’d react. Part of me thought I was only wasting my time, that men like him weren’t moved by things like that.
Maybe that’s why his reaction gave me some strange sense of satisfaction.
My eyes narrowed as I recalled how the young man’s face drained of color when he learned who my plus-one was. The name must have struck him like a dagger to the heart, given how terrified he was.
Demyon Tarasov.
The young man had been scared half to death, as if he were staring death right in the face. The switch from arrogance to terror was so swift it left me baffled.
I’d always known that my captor was a dangerous man; I watched him slit a man’s throat in cold blood without breaking a sweat. However, the musician’s fear was something else.
That’s the extent of Demyon’s power; his name alone was enough to make men shit their pants. At this point, I should be afraid and more careful around him. But I wasn’t terrified ofhim. No. Instead, I was even more intrigued by his level of power and influence.
If Demyon wanted me dead, I’d be dead already. So, the fact that I was still breathing meant he didn’t mind my defiance and stubbornness.
As the hours ticked by, I grew increasingly restless. I wasn’t sure why at first, until I realized the shocking, bitter truth I wasn’t ready to face. I was restless and bored out of my mind because he was away.
There was no one to piss off, no one to pick on and exchange words with. I once called him out for being lonely and having no one to keep him company, saying that was the only reason he kept me close.
Now,Iwas the lonely one, with no one to keep me company. How ironic!
I guess this was a mutually beneficial relationship because we were both using each other to pass the time. I couldn’t believe I’d ever miss his presence, his smell, his smug smirk, and the intensity of his gaze. To make matters worse, he’d only been gone for about twelve hours.
Was that how quickly I was starting to bond with this cold-blooded killer? Hell no!
Bondwas a pretty strong word to use in this situation. However, the fact remained that I was beginning to get too close and too comfortable around him.
