Chapter 28

“Ihave a surprise for you. Come,” I say as I take her hand and lead her to the table. Pulling the chair for her, I make sure she’s seated comfortably before joining her on the other side of the table.

She’s looking around with wonder in her eyes and my heart thuds furiously in my chest as I await her reaction.

“You did this for me?” she asks in a small voice.

I nod.

“You wanted something unique, so I prepared something unique for you.” I give her my signature smile.

She blushes.

Ah, my charm is working.

“You put a lot of thought into this. I don’t know what to say.”

“You like it?”

“Very much.”

“Then that’s enough for me. I have more surprises for you, too.” I wink.

“Wow… I should have put on something nicer,” she says as she looks down at her clothes.

She’s wearing one of my shirts that looks like a dress on her and a pair of black leggings. The mere fact that she’s wearing my shirt makes this so much better. She already looks stunning on a daily basis, but like this she’s absolutely breathtaking. So much so I have to remind myself not to forget to breathe.

“You look perfect, Minnie. You’re always perfect to me.”

She flutters her lashes as she averts her gaze, her entire face red.

“What’s gotten into you, Marlowe? The candles, the flowers, the compliments… Are you quite all right?” she asks with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“I’m more than all right, my little heathen. I realized that I have not taken my fiancé duties seriously until now and I aim to remedy that.”

She narrows her eyes at me.

“Is this still about Lucien and Theron? I thought we moved past that.”

“Of course not,” I mumble.

She stares at me.

“We should eat. I got you something special,” I quickly mention as I reveal the first item on the menu, a creamy vegan risotto with truffles.

Her eyes widen and she nods in appreciation.

She takes a bite.

“Oh, this is fantastic,” she exclaims.

I smile to myself.

Food, check.

We eat the first course and then I unveil the dessert. A variety of chocolates and chocolate cakes that delight her even further. She eats almost all of them—which is just as I intended.

Once we’re done with the food, I take away the dishes and clear the table.

Minnie watches me closely, her lips drawn up in a smile.

She looks…happy.

Because of me.

I fucking did that.

I put a smile on her face.

I mentally high-five myself. This is how it’s done, ladies and gentlemen.

“Would you mind checking under the table? I think you dropped something.”

Her brows go up in question. She leans to look under the table and for a few moments, she doesn’t speak. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t react.

I wait with bated breath for her to say something.

Slowly, she gets up, holding between her tiny fingers the ring I’d worked so damn hard to make.

She looks at it and swallows hard.

Then she looks at me, and her eyes glisten with unshed tears.

“What’s this, Marlowe?” she asks on a whisper.

“What do you think it is, Minnie?” I smile as I walk toward her. Dropping to one knee, I take the ring from her and slide it on her ring finger.

It fits perfectly. Good.

She’s speechless for what seems like forever. Her eyes flitter from me to the ring and back to me. Her mouth opens a few times, but no sound comes out.

“I can smell your blood on it. Your blood and…” She presses her lips together as another blush stains her cheeks.

“Yes, my blood and my seed. All for you.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, but her mouth tips up at the corners.

“You made this?”

“Of course. The band, too. I learned how to forge a ring just for you,” I boast confidently.

She opens her eyes and stares at the ring, turning her hand around to study it better.

“It’s beautiful, Marlowe. This is the best surprise,” she murmurs, her voice breaking with emotion.

“I’m not even going to ask the obvious question, since the answer is yes,” I tell her.

She raises a brow at me.

“Is that so?”

“Of course. You already agreed. You can’t take it back. I won’t let you,” I warn her. “The ring is for you to know my devotion and for others to see that you’re taken—not that they’re going to see much of you anyway since I plan to keep you for my eyes only.”

“You’re such a romantic, Marlowe,” she adds dryly.

“Really? Thank you. I try.” I nod in satisfaction.

She shakes her head at me, but the smile on her lips tells me I did a damn good job.

“You’re impossible.”

“I aim to please.” I wink at her.

Getting up, I go to the furnace and turn it back on. The fire inside further illuminates the basement, creating an even more ethereal atmosphere. Gazing inside, I note that there’s little left of the body—a few scraps of bones. Not to worry, they’ll be destroyed on the second round.

“What are you doing?” she asks as she rises from her seat. “What’s that smell?” She wrinkles her nose in disgust.

“What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know, it smells odd. Did you kill someone else, Marlowe? Is that it?” She rolls her eyes at me. “Who was it this time?”

“I didn’t technically kill anyone,” I reply smoothly. “I merely took care of the already dead.”

Her brows are knitted in confusion.

“I don’t follow.”

“I have another surprise for you,” I mention and go to the freezer.

Opening the door, I go inside and grab the platter containing Lucien’s head. I can’t wait to see Minnie’s reaction. But more than anything else, I can’t wait to see her denounce Lucien and willingly throw him in the flames. I want her to pick up his head, tell me I’m the only one for her, now and forever, and simply dump that son of a bitch in the furnace where he belongs.

Then I’ll be able to rest assured that she’s fully mine. I don’t even mind waiting as long as it takes for us to consummate our relationship if I’ll have the certainty that she’s mine—body and soul.

But that’s my issue. I know I’ll have her body—though it might take some time and I might die from blue balls, but it is what it is—but do I have her soul? She has yet to tell me she loves me. Not that I said it either, but I want her to be the one to say it first since I reckon my feelings for her are pretty clear. I mean, I let her blow her nose on my shirt—multiple times too. That in itself means I fucking love her since no one would even be able to get close enough to me to do that, let alone to leave behind their gross bodily fluids. Yet because it’s her, I even find it cute.

Insane, no?

But that’s how I know she’s it for me. I don’t care if shes a goddess, a demon slayer, or whatever else. I don’t even care if she used to eat dumpster food, though I’ll never let her live that down. I only care that she’s mine and only mine.

And this moment is about to solidify that for me.

Finally, Lucien will be a thing of the past (granted, there’s still Theron, but I’ll worry about him later since he never engaged her affections like this bloke).

I go back to the main room of the basement where Minnie is waiting for me with her arms crossed over her chest. One brow raised, she watches me with suspicion in her eyes.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what’s inside,” she mutters when I join her in front of the furnace.

“It’s something I’ve prepared for you. For us. This is the mark of our beginning, Minnie, and I want you to do the honors.”

She frowns.

“What honors?”

“Ta-da!” I pull the lid to reveal Lucien’s mummified head.

Her eyes grow wide with shock.

“That…” She swallows. “That…”

“I want you to throw this into the furnace with the rest of the body. Put the past behind us,” I murmur.

She slowly turns to stare at the fire burning inside the furnace.

“You mean… The body… The rest of the body is there? Burning?”

I nod, smiling. “The perfect idea, no? Letting the fire metaphorically cleanse all past connections. This is our start, Minnie.”

She shakes her head, her expression petrified.

“What have you done, Marlowe?” she whispers.

My brows pull together in confusion.

“I got rid of my competition,” I answer matter-of-factly.

She continues to shake her head as she takes a step toward the furnace, leaning in to watch the flames lick the remaining bones and turn them into ash.

“You…” she croaks. “You burned him…”

“Not entirely.” I smile. “See, I kept one piece for you so you could burn him yourself,” I add proudly. The whole purpose of this is to do it together.

She turns sharply to me and before I know it, her palm connects with my cheek. The sting of the slap takes me by surprise, as does the sudden pain in my chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands in a ragged voice.

I’m too stunned to react.

She grabs the detached head and holds it between her hands as she stares at it.

“You…” she whispers, but she’s not looking at me.

She’s looking at him.

And she’s looking at him like she’s never looked at me.

With… Love.

My fists clench by my sides.

“How could you?” she rasps out, tears rolling out her cheeks. “How the hell could you?” she yells.

Blue mist surrounds her body and her eyes become a lighter blue shade as she glares at me. Pure hatred emanates from her and before I can say anything, a strong gust of cold wind hits me in the chest, throwing me backward.

“Minnie—”

“Don’t you say another word, Marlowe!” she cuts me off.

She cradles the head to her chest lovingly as she turns to look at the furnace again. The blue mist that surrounds her spirals into the furnace, turning everything to ice.

“You said you didn’t care about him anymore,” I say in a slow, tense voice.

The tension inside me is like a tightly wound coil that’s about to snap and the last thing I want is to add more fuel to the fire—ironically. I hold myself still, though a storm rages inside of me the more I see her interact with that fucking head.

It’s against her chest. His fucking face is next to her chest, a place I never got to touch.

Yet he’s doing it. Even dead he’s fucking doing it.

As if my hatred for that dead man wasn’t potent enough, I find that with each passing second, it festers into something more. Something ugly. Something destructive.

I take a deep breath.

Her lip twitches and she holds on tighter to the detached head as if to guard it from me.

A blow reverberates against my ribs, and I wince at the physical pain.

“I said I loved him and he died. You didn’t have to…desecrate his body. How did you even find him?” She takes a deep breath. “How could you even think to do this?”

“Because he’s dead!” I grind out. “He’s dead and I cannot kill him again. This is the only way.”

“The only way to what?” She narrows her eyes at me.

“The only way to make sure there’s nothing holding you back.”

She gives a dry laugh.

“Nothing holding me back?” She raises a brow. “Are you sure it’s not the other way around? Nothing holding you back?”

“He’s already dead. Of course there’s nothing holding me back,” I reply, frowning.

“Really? Because you had to dig up a dead man and disturb his resting place. And for what? For some deranged show of force? To stroke your fragile ego?”

“My what?” My eyes flash at her.

“You heard what I said. You have a fragile ego,” she repeats. “But that’s not all, is it? You also don’t trust me enough since you had to do this to convince yourself I’ve moved on when I’ve repeatedly told you I have.”

“Minnie—”

“Don’t interrupt me, Marlowe!” she snaps. “You went too far this time.” She shakes her head. “When I first told you about Lucien, I was upset about your reaction, but I thought it was normal. You were jealous that I had another fiancé. Fair enough. But I told you he died. He is gone.”

“He’s still here,” I mutter under my breath.

She scoffs at my words.

“See what I mean? You don’t trust me, do you? If you did, you wouldn’t have done this. You would have listened to my words and trusted that he is my past and you’re my present. But no, you had to go and ruin everything.” She swallows hard as she chokes on the last words. “But to desecrate an innocent man’s body for your messed up purposes? That’s low. Even for you.”

“You don’t understand, Minnie. I did this for us,” I try to explain. But she doesn’t let me.

“Us? You did it for you. You did it to satisfy some weird hang-up you have about my past when I’ve told you repeatedly exactly what it was.”

“But that’s exactly it! He’s still here, in your memories. He’s still present.”

“He will always be in my memories.”

My features harden.

“And since I cannot erase those memories, the least I can do is erase him from this world. He might be dead, Minnie, but he’s not dead enough for me,” I growl.

“Dead enough? Do you hear yourself, Marlowe?”

“I thought you’d understand.” I sigh.

“Understand what? That you don’t trust me? Oh, don’t worry, I fully understand that.”

“It’s not about trust!” I exclaim.

“It’s all about trust,” she counters.

“No, it’s not. It’s about the fact that you’re holding on so tightly to him at this very moment while arguing with me. It’s the fact that you’re choosing him and not me.”

“What the hell, Marlowe? How many times do I have to tell you he’s dead?”

“But he’s still here,” I grit out, throwing my hands in the air.

She shakes her head at me and takes a step back. Disappointment mars her features, but the only thing I see is the way she’s holding that goddamn head as if it were more precious than gold.

She’s holding it like she should be holding me.

A rage unlike I’ve ever experienced bubbles up inside of me, rapidly seeking to get to the surface.

I reach forward and snatch the head from her arms, and with all the strength I can muster, I slam it to the ground.

The skin cracks. Pieces of hair and skull scatter around.

But it’s not enough.

Before Minnie can stop me, I stomp on it with my foot, placing my entire weight on it until it breaks into a myriad of unrecognizable pieces.

She doesn’t move.

She’s simply staring at me, stunned.

She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it.

“Now he’s gone,” I declare, yet there’s a hollowness inside of me even as I glance at the mess on the floor. She should have been the one to destroy it, not me. She should have been the one to want to see him gone.

Instead, she’s shedding tears for him.

Her eyes are on the broken pieces of her ex-fiancé, tears staining her cheeks, shivers claiming her body. She’s reacting to it not as if he were her past but as if he’s still her present.

And I hate that more than anything in the world.

Because I can see it. It’s there, in the depths of those dark eyes.

She’s not mine.

She’s never been fully mine.

And now? She might never be.

No! I refuse to believe that.

I ball my hands into fists as I turn to her.

“Why are you crying?” I ask her in a brusque tone. “Why are you shedding tears for him?”

“You… How could you… I don’t…” she murmurs incoherently.

She cannot bring herself to face me, her attention still on the last pieces of Lucien.

“How can you say you’re mine when you’re crying for him?” I grind out, slowly becoming more and more erratic. My body vibrates with unreleased tension as emotions I never thought myself capable of fill me to the brim.

She doesn’t hear me—or she doesn’t want to.

Dropping to her knees, she reaches out for one of the bigger pieces of his head, then for another. She slowly gathers them in one place, her hands trembling as she tries and fails to put him back together.

I kick at the pieces, scattering them around the basement.

Stunned, she falls on her ass. Finally, she brings her teary eyes to mine.

“How could you?” she asks again.

My nostrils flare as I crouch next to her. Grabbing her chin between two fingers, I stare into her eyes and ask, “You still love him, don’t you?”

She doesn’t answer.

“You do. I can see it in your eyes.”

Again, she doesn’t answer.

She looks at me with a mutinous expression, her lips pressed together in animosity.

“Do you love me, Minnie?”

Something flickers in her eyes.

“Do you love me?” I repeat.

“Do you think you deserve it after what you’ve done?” she retorts, her voice dripping with disgust.

“Ah, but you see, you’ve just proven me right. You’re not over him. And you can’t even bring yourself to tell me you love me.”

Her lips pull back and she bares her teeth at me.

“You don’t deserve my love,” she spits out.

“Really?” I raise a mocking brow. “And he does? And he fucking does?” I yell as I grab a piece of his scalp and crumble it in my fist.

Her expression slowly morphs from one of disgust to one of determination as she pushes me back.

She’s strong, I’ll give her that.

The power of her blow sends me back reeling, and I fall on my back.

Before I can gather my bearings to react, she’s on top of me, straddling my hips. She scratches and bites me as she screeches like a fucking banshee.

“Fuck you, Marlowe! Fuck you!” she cries out, even going so far to use that word she doesn’t approve of.

She drags her nails across my neck. They’re sharp enough to break the skin, and blood flows to the surface.

“Fuck you!” She continues to yell, hitting and slapping me.

It hurts. But it hurts fucking good. And in spite of her anger, I know she could put more force into her blows. With her powers, she could punch a fucking hole through me, yet she doesn’t.

And that gives me some hope.

Her squirming on top of me also gives me a boner, which, all things considered, it’s quite fucked up. Then again, I am a fucked-up bastard.

Oh, I’m still angry as fuck about her reaction to Lucien, but I’m also getting turned on by this savage side of her.

“Fuck you, Marlowe! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!”

I grab her hands.

“Yes, fuck me, Minnie. At least then I’ll have the one thing you didn’t give to saint Lucien,” I yell at her.

Her eyes widen, and I take advantage of her momentary distraction to reverse our position. I turn her on her back and loom over her.

She gasps as she feels my hardness rubbing between her legs and she involuntarily pushes herself against me.

I freeze as a frisson of pleasure spears through me.

She stops moving, too.

We’re both breathing hard as we stare into each other’s eyes.

“I’m risking everything to be with you, Marlowe,” she whispers. “Why is it not enough for you?”

“I’m a greedy bastard, Minnie. I want it all or nothing.”

She gulps down.

“Can you give me that? Can you give me everything?”

“Everything?” she whispers.

“Everything you gave him and everything you didn’t. Everything you don’t even know you have to give. I want everything,” I rasp out, my voice hoarse.

She stares at me.

“You don’t realize, do you?”

“Realize what?” I frown.

She opens her mouth to speak, but before she can say anything, a loud sound permeates the air.

My ringtone.

I swear under my breath.

“Realize what, Minnie?” I repeat.

She shakes her head. “You should answer that.”

I let the phone ring until it stops. But then it rings again. And again.

With a tired sigh, I get off her and reach in my pocket for my phone.

“Yes,” I snap.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother, Marlowe,” she chides.

“What do you want that could not wait, Mother?” I ask as I continue to watch Minnie.

She slowly gets to her feet and dusts her clothes. She glances at the floor where Lucien’s remains are and I expect her to try to put him back together—again.

She surprises me when she doesn’t. Instead, she just takes off the ring I’d so painstakingly made her and throws it in the furnace before turning it on again.

Giving me one last disappointed look, she walks out of the basement.

“My birthday party, of course. It’s in two days. I hope you haven’t forgotten about that.”

“Of course not,” I grit out.

“Good. I’ll see you and Minnie then,” she adds in a chirpy voice before she hangs up.

I’m left staring at what’s left of my perfectly planned dinner—or not so perfect as it seems.

I sigh.

I don’t think Minnie wants anything to do with me now, let alone accompany me to a goddamn party.