“Good night.” He nodded once and walked out of the room, leaving me to my thoughts.
My heart ached, not just because he was keeping his distance, but because no one had to go through what he went through as a kid.
Becoming a killer at fourteen? That was messed up—as messed up as watching his mother die in front of him.
Demyon Tarasov was living with a trauma he’d refused to face. He hadn’t been born a monster; the world had turned him into one.
I rose to my feet, trying to head back to my room to process what I’d just heard. However, I’d barely taken two steps when a wave of dizziness hit me. I stumbled backward, a hand on my forehead as I held on to the couch’s headrest behind me.
Sinking into the cushion, the leather crunched beneath my weight. I sat there in silence, wondering what the hell had just happened. This was the second time today I felt dizzy. I hadn’t thought much of it the first time. But twice in one day? That was no coincidence.
As I considered what could be the cause of this, something struck me hard. My eyes widened in shock, and my heart began hammering in my chest. I felt restless and was already sweating in awkward places.
If my math was correct—and it was—then I’d missed my period by over a week.
My pulse quickened, and my palms became all greasy. I swiped my fingers through my hair, running the math over and over again in my head.
“Fuck!” The word fell from my lips.
The realization hit me harder than a punch in the gut, and chills ran down my spine. I placed my hand on my lower abdomen, panic surging through my blood.
Could I be…? Am I…?
The mere thought of the possibility stole my breath and left me gasping for air. I weighed my breasts; they were fullerthan normal, heavier. My back had been killing me for the past few days now, and every morning since last week, I woke up feeling sick.
These were all early signs of….
I couldn’t even bring myself to speak the word. All I knew was that if this was what I thought it was, then I was in trouble. Big trouble.
Chapter 20 —Demyon
I was in my study that afternoon, reviewing a pending project from a few months ago. The plan was to bury myself in work because it was the only way I knew to get my mind off Eva Harlow.
My cousin believed that I had fallen for her, and I had taken it upon myself to prove him wrong. Love was a really strong word, and because there was an atom of truth in his claims, I decided it was best to stay away from her. For now, at least.
The last thing I needed was a love drama in my life. I enjoyed having her around, yes. But she was only here for my entertainment. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I kept trying to convince myself that Eva didn’t mean as much to me as Adrik thought. However, the more I stayed away from her, the more my heart ached. This was proof that she was more than an object of my entertainment.
If Adrik was completely wrong, why was I unsettled by his claims? Why was I trying so hard to keep the girl at arm’s length just to prove a point?
I knew the truth deep down in my heart, but I wasn’t ready to accept it. How could I? Love was for the weak, and in my line of work, weakness always got us killed.
For almost two weeks now, I’d been at war with myself. A part of me wanted to keep avoiding her, at least until whatever feelings I’d developed vanished into thin air. The other part of me, however, couldn’t keep up the act; it missed being around her and engaging in silly arguments.
In my study that afternoon, the more I tried to focus, the more thoughts of her flooded my mind. I leaned back in my chair, fingers rubbing my eyes as I recalled the look on her facetwo nights ago. I could tell that she wanted to talk more after I gave her a glimpse of my childhood.
The pain in her eyes was as clear as crystal, and the way her lips quivered as I told my story thawed something frozen inside me. Eva felt my agony, and if I had waited a minute longer, she might have reached out to try to convince me that I wasn’t the monster everyone thought I was.
The tears welling in her eyes told me she might’ve turned the whole situation into something emotional. I didn’t want that. I wasn’t ready for it. That’s why I got up and left immediately.
Now, I couldn’t help imagining how that night would’ve turned out if I hadn’t abandoned her the way that I did. Would she have hugged me? Would she have kissed me?
What exactly was she up to, anyway? One minute she was avoiding me, and the next she was offering me a shoulder to cry on. The girl was a mystery, a puzzle I had yet to solve. Just like me, she was unpredictable—and that was one of the many reasons I was drawn to her.
Despite my uncertainties and insecurities, I knew one thing for sure: I wasn’t going to lose her. Once I had my shit all figured out, I’d know what to do with her.
I was still deep in thought when my door slammed open and she barged in. Her bare feet pounded the floor as she approached my desk, her expression dark and unreadable.
