In the end, life goes on.

Mum was fine, and in her words, she only needed to clear her head in a place where Papa doesn’t exist. Usually, she makes him appear as the villain every chance she gets, but not this time. Maybe she’s finally moving on? I hope so, at least. I feel so sorry for Lucien.

After that weekend we spent in Nice, Cole and I evolved. I can’t replace the words to describe it properly, but we just took it to the next level.

Could be because we shared a loss, or because we became more careful.

Or I did.

The anxiety and stress I felt when I thought I was pregnant was torture. It’s Papa’s election year – the dream he’s worked his entire life for. The one he divorced Mum for because he wanted to focus on his political career.

I can’t be self-immersed and ruin that for him.

Or Mum’s social popularity. Or Helen’s success.

So the only time Cole gets to touch or even be near me is when he sneaks into my room at night. When both our doors are closed and the outside world ceases to exist.

I still pretend I don’t want him there and he fucks me harder each time I do. It’s like he’s punishing me for our screwed-up situation.

Cole likes punishments. The control and the fact that I fall completely at his mercy is his driving force.

Whenever I act like a brat at school, or when he tells me to do something and I don’t, he sends me texts like:

Cole: I’m going to spank your arse so hard, you will remember me every time you sit tomorrow.

Cole: You better be naked and splayed out on the bed when I come in or there will be no orgasms for you tonight.

Cole: What did I say about talking to Aiden? Do you want to be punished, Butterfly? Is that it?

Let’s just say, I did most of those things on purpose so he’d unleash his intensity on me. There’s something so mesmerising about Cole shedding the cool mask and going all out when he’s with me.

I’m the only one who gets to provoke that side of him. The only one who gets him on more than one level.

And he gets me.

He knows when the doubts creep in, when my heart shrinks whenever I see a kid on the streets and recall the loss of what we couldn’t have.

Every time I run to the park, he follows with a Snickers bar and kisses me on the nose.

Last week, I won a piano competition. Well, Cole let me win. I know he could’ve beaten me, but that day, he barely played. When I shoved him, demanding he not take pity on me, he said, “That wasn’t pity. I’ve always wanted to see that spark you get in your eyes when you win.”

“But you’ve made it your job to crush me in everything.”

“That’s because you were with Aiden. Now, you’re not.”

To say Cole gets jealous would be an understatement. He doesn’t like any male in my vicinity, but he’s so subtle about it. Like kicking Aiden down every chance he gets, or plotting Ronan’s demise just because he put an arm around my shoulder.

Aiden calls him petty and he is in some ways. Cole doesn’t stop when he’s on a mission — everything in his environment becomes a means to reach a goal. He doesn’t sleep a wink until he achieves it.

Not that I’m any better in the jealousy department. I make it my job to make sure no other girl hangs around him or in his immediate surroundings.

The other week, Teal, Elsa’s foster sister, was sitting with Cole in the school’s garden and reading from a book he specifically ordered from overseas.

My relationship with Teal — if you could call it a relationship — is better than the one I have with Elsa. Partly because we crossed paths in La Débauche and we’re both into voyeurism. And okay, I might have pushed Cole away when I recognised her because I didn’t want to be associated with him anywhere in public.

That fantasy of us being together for the world to see started and ended in that small town in France.

Seeing her with him, and knowing that they got along on some level when Cole never actually showed any interest in the opposite sex in the past, made me rage like a volcano.

I’m the only one he’s supposed to read to. The only one who falls asleep listening to his voice, dreaming about a parallel world where he can read to me in the park while my head lies on his lap.

So I flirted with Ronan as double payback. Teal is Ronan’s fiancée; he wasn’t amused to see her with Cole either.

That evening, Cole tied me to the bedpost and fucked me the entire night. No kidding. He only let me sleep around dawn.

Well, he didn’t let me. I fell asleep on him when he went to run a bath for me.

I’m still not talking to him because of the whole Teal thing. She almost kissed him back there. He didn’t stop her, Ronan did. If he hadn’t, Cole would’ve let her fucking kiss him.

Now I’m the one who’s being petty, but whatever. It’s enough torture that I don’t get to kiss him in public, that I don’t even get to hold his hand or flirt with him, that I don’t get to shout it to the world that he’s mine. I don’t need to see other girls’ claws on him on top of everything else.

“Have fun, kids.” Helen waves at us from the front door.

Her face looks worn out, which is understandable considering she’s about ready to submit the final manuscript for her next release to her agent. He read the first half and was thrilled, calling it her best work yet.

She kind of died a little in the process of meeting her deadline. I feel sorry for her since Papa isn’t around much anymore.

Most of his nights and days are spent at the party. Although he barely shows up at home, Helen’s been nothing but supportive. Now that I think about it, most of my parents’ fights were because they didn’t replace time for each other in the midst of chasing their careers.

Helen is kinder and less outspoken than Mum. It’s been several months, but she’s never called Papa out or blamed him. She’s simply left him to his devices and taken care of the house and us as if she’s lived here her entire life.

I love Helen, but sometimes, I miss having Mum around. It’s crazy given that she moved out ages ago, but before the marriage, she always dropped in unannounced just to fight with Papa.

Now, it doesn’t happen anymore. And to an extent, I’m grateful to Helen for that.

I snap the seatbelt over my simple soft pink dress that falls to above my knees as Cole drives his Jeep away from the house. Ronan is throwing a party in the Meet Up. Since his parents returned from their overseas trip, he doesn’t have full access to his mansion, so the Meet Up is his next best option.

Parties have never been my thing, so I considered skipping and lounging around to watch the latest political debate. However, the brute, Cole, barged into my room and told me we’re going.

I know for a fact he doesn’t like parties and that the only reason he attends them is to observe everyone, to tuck in their habits and weaknesses for later use — especially his friends.

He feels like they could be the most threatening to him considering they’ve known him the longest, so he needs to be prepared for them.

When I told him he’s too distrustful, he said he’s only prepared because they’re fuckers. His words, not mine.

He’s wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and his Elites royal blue jacket. They won tonight, so this is some sort of a celebration.

I try not to focus on how the colour blue suits him so well, or how strands of his chestnut hair fall across his forehead, or how good he smells straight out of a shower.

Considering the tingles between my thighs, I’d say I’m failing.

“Why did you drag me out again?” I fold my arms over my chest.

He keeps his attention on the road, driving with one strong hand on the bottom of the steering wheel. God. I’ve always loved how he drives — it’s so effortless and masculine. And he does it with so much confidence, like he could do it with his eyes closed.

They say a person’s driving style speaks of their character. I often get worked up with idiot drivers who don’t respect road signs or etiquette, but Cole tunes them all out as if they don’t exist, as if they’re the dust on his shoe.

His dispassionate disregard of others is so weird given how much he observes people, but I guess he doesn’t observe them because he likes them. It’s more because he needs to see how they’ll fit in his plots.

“You didn’t come to the game, Silver.”

“That’s because I said I wouldn’t.” I’m mad at him.

“And what did I say?”

I don’t reply. He grips my half-bare thigh with his free hand. It takes everything in me not to clench my legs together at the way he’s touching me.

“What. Did. I. Say?” he emphasises each word.

“That I should come.” I keep my voice level. “Did you really expect me to show up after the whole picturesque scene with Teal?”

“Jealous much, Butterfly?”

“Screw you, Cole, okay? I ha —”

He tightens his hold around my thigh so hard, I wince. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

“Or what?”

Cole shakes his head. “You don’t want to know.”

My insides nearly liquefy at the promise. So I whisper, “I hate you.”

The car comes to a screeching halt. I would’ve hit the dash if it weren’t for the seatbelt.

I swallow, expecting Cole to jump me here and now, but his next words surprise me. “Get out.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me.”

“You’re abandoning me here?” I throw a glance out the window. The way to the Meet Up is a bit deserted. The street lights are few and far between and there’s no human soul around. “This is the middle of nowhere. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Get. Out.” His words are firm and final.

My chin trembles as I release my seatbelt and open the door’s handle with unsteady fingers.

I can’t believe he’s doing this to me.

Once I’m outside, I stand near the door as I slam it shut, then I flip him off through the window.

If he expects me to beg him to take me along, he’ll be waiting for a long time.

I turn away from the car, fiddling with my bag so I can call an Uber. The sound of a door opening catches my attention.

Wait. He didn’t leave?

Slowly spinning around, I spot him lifting the Jeep’s boot. His dark green eyes cut a path to my soul as he aims them at me.

“Get in here.”

“Get in where?”

He motions at the boot.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Apparently you did when you said what I told you not to say.” He’s so calm, it’s disturbing. “Are you going to get inside or not?”

I’m about to say no, but he interrupts me. “A crime happened around here a few days ago. A blonde girl who was running alone in this deserted area got attacked and molested. She’s currently in the intensive care unit.”

I gulp. Even I had heard about that.

“It’s not the first incident. Remember what Frederic said about this serial attacker?” The chilling tone he speaks with covers my skin in goosebumps. “Many women who wander alone early mornings or late evenings in places like these get ambushed. But here’s the plot twist, perhaps the serial attacker will turn into a serial killer, considering he already has a pattern and a victim profile. All the girls are blondes and with fair skin.”

“S-stop it.”

“Blue eyes, too, Butterfly. Just like yours.”

“Fine, arsehole.” I go to his side. “You didn’t plan on leaving me here, did you?”

“Of course not, but you don’t get to ride with me after saying you hate me.”

I scowl at him, then climb into the boot. Thankfully, it’s vast enough to fit me, but I have to bend my legs.

“You’re sick,” I tell him.

“You love it.”

I do. I really, really do.

He reaches behind me, and I shiver as his hand brushes against my bare shoulder.

Damn him and his touch.

Cole retrieves some ropes.

“Here?” I whisper-yell as he ties my ankles together. The tightness of the ropes feels so familiar now. So exciting.

When he’s finished with my wrists, he steps back and watches me with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. “There. Much better.”

“You’ll really leave me like this?” Usually, the tying up part is followed by sex and mind shattering orgasms. That’s why I like them. What’s the point of appetisers if there’s no main course?

“One more thing.” He rummages by my head, then retrieves a ball gag and straps it around my mouth.

My protests turn into muffled sounds. Oh, come on! The car boot shouldn’t be the setting for this.

Ropes and a gag. Maybe he is the psycho attacking women. He even knows about the victims’ profiles and everything.

Where the hell did that idea come from?

His fingers caress my cheek before gripping my chin. His thumb strokes my lower lip. I want to taste him.

“You really thought you could tell me you hate me and get away with it, Silver? I’ll eventually fuck that word out of you.”

I shudder at the promise. Right now? Here?

“Be a good girl.” He closes the boot, killing my hope, and turning my world black.

I swallow back my frustration as the car moves down the road. He’s an excellent driver, so I don’t bump into anything, not even once.

When we come to a halt and the sound of people filters in, I realise we must’ve arrived at the Meet Up.

“You want to come out?” he whispers without opening the boot.

I hit the roof with my foot.

Laughter comes from him as he opens the boot a slit. I squint at the light from the party. People from school buzz all around the car park, laughing and ready to have a good time.

My eyes widen. They can’t see me like this.

“What do you say?” Cole’s eyes gleam as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking about.

I shake my head, mumbling around the ball gag.

“I thought so.” He strokes my cheek again. “Be good.”

And the darkness returns.

The bastard.

I can’t believe he’s leaving me like this to go a party.

It feels like I stay there for hours, if not days. Okay, I’m exaggerating. It’s probably been fifteen minutes, but I’m restless. I move around and I accidently hit the boot a few times before I realise someone might hear.

Shit.

A commotion comes from outside. I can hear Cole’s and Ronan’s voices, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.

Soon after, all the voices disappear and the car starts moving.

Thank God.

By the time it stops again, I’m so ready to give Cole a piece of my mind.

He opens the boot and I blink a few times to readjust my vision.

We’re at the park.

The bastard knows where to take me to lessen my anger. He removes the gag and I swallow all the drool that’s gathered in my mouth.

Cole undoes my wrists. I push him away as I try to free my ankles, but I end up making the knots tighter.

A chuckle rips from him as he takes over the task. “Stay still.”

Once I’m no longer tied, I jump out of the boot and punch him in the chest. “What if I was claustrophobic, you arsehole?”

“You aren’t. You hide in your closet every time you write in your journals.”

My lips part. “Y-you know about them?”

“Maybe.”

Oh. My. God.

He’s not supposed to. Why the hell does he even know about them?

“How far did you read?”

“All.”

“You…you…you’re such a pervert!”

“Not as much as your entries about me lately.”

My cheeks heat to a deep shade of red. “Shut up.”

“Why? Are you shy you admitted that night-time is your favourite time of the day?”

“Whatever.” I fold my arms. “If you do that to me again, you’ll read about the black magic and the voodoo doll I’m preparing for you.”

He grabs me by the arm and tugs me close so I end up flush against his front. “If you say you hate me again, this will only keep escalating.”

“Escalating?”

“Uh-huh,” he whispers against the shell of my ear. “And that includes the fucking journal.”

I push away from him, about to get into the passenger seat, but he doesn’t release me.

Cole throws me into the back seat, closes the door, and pulls my dress up.

“S-someone will see,” I breathe out even as my legs wrap around his waist the moment he yanks his trousers down.

“They won’t.”

“What if they do?”

“What if they do, Silver? What if they fucking do?” He thrusts inside me in one long go that tears a moan out of my throat. “That won’t change the fact that I fuck you and sleep with you every night. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine.”

A shudder grips me in its clutches as he owns me in every sense of the word. Lately, it feels as if he’s not only fucking my body, but he’s also screwing my heart and soul.

He’s owning every part of me whether I like it or not.

At first, I thought this would be a fling and would soon end. I thought I’d get bored, tired, or maybe everything would fizzle out.

But it’s been months, whole damn months, and it’s only been fizzling up — not out.

What was I thinking? This is Cole. He’s owned a part of my soul ever since that day in this very park.

He’s always had me. One twisted way or another.

As we fall apart together, the realisation hits me like a thunderstorm. The feelings I have for him were never temporary and they never will be.

None of this will be temporary.

It’s all wishful thinking.

“Fuck,” he murmurs against my neck. “You’re messing me up, Silver. Why can’t I stop thinking about you for even a second?”

“They’re not real.”

“What isn’t real?”

“The feelings. Everything. They only exist because we can’t be together.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He lifts his head from my neck, watching me with disapproval. With anger.

I shove him away, and thankfully, he doesn’t protest as he pulls out of me, his cum dripping between my thighs.

Retrieving a tissue, I clean up, not wanting to meet his imploring gaze. “Take me to Mum.”

If I spend the night with her, surely I’ll clear my head and come up with a better plan for the future.

One that doesn’t destroy both our families.

Because at this pace, we’re heading straight to a cliff where both of us will fall.

Cole’s jaw ticks. He doesn’t say a word as he tucks himself in, gets out, and takes the driver’s seat.

I remain at the back, pretending to stare out the window, when I’m actually stealing looks at him.

Once we’re in the car park, he throws me a Snickers bar through the window, his face blank. “I bought it earlier. It’s melting.”

My heart warms. Cole doesn’t eat Snickers, or chocolate in general, but he always buys them for me. “Thanks.”

“I’m done playing your games, Silver. This is the last time you run from me.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you to be with me because you want to, not run away because you can’t admit it to yourself.”

“What about everyone else?”

“Fuck everyone else. They don’t matter more than you and I.”

And with that, he leaves. I hit the button to Mum’s flat, my shoulders drooping as I absentmindedly eat the Snickers bar.

Maybe I should save it for when Mum and I watch a film — not The Notebook.

I enter the code to her flat and go inside, still nibbling on the chocolate.

It’s dark inside, the only light coming from her room. I’m just outside of it when the sounds filter in.

Moans. Groans. Slaps of flesh against flesh.

My cheeks heat. I probably should’ve called first. But then again, Lucien barely comes to Mum’s flat, and I kind of thought they were in a non-sexual relationship.

I turn around to leave when I hear the unmistakable name.

My fingers slowly push the door open. What remains of my Snickers drops to the ground. I’m scarred for life.

Mum is on her back as a man fucks her hard.

And that man isn’t Lucien.

It’s Papa.

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