“Jake,” I murmured, reaching out and resting my hand on his arm. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t lean into the touch either. “It doesn’t matter.” My voice was soft and careful. “Your rose is the one that made me happy.”
He let out a small, breathy chuckle, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Kasmine, you don’t have to-“
“I mean it,” I interrupted. I slid my fingers down his forearm, squeezing gently. “I don’t care about extravagant gifts. I care about thoughtfulness. And you, Jake… you always give me that.”
He exhaled, finally meeting my gaze, and the stiffness in his shoulders loosened.
“I don’t even know who they are from. Probably someone who doesn’t have the guts to approach me in person.” I said, “Can’t you see why you are way better than them?”
He took in a deep breath, “But…”
“Shh… There are no buts. Trust me,” I smiled at him, and he smiled back.
I looked into his sincere eyes and wondered when he planned on properly asking me to be his girlfriend.
But one question remained unanswered…
If Jake asks me to be his girlfriend, will I accept his proposal? Will I have to choose between a death wish for both of us and a taste of true love from Jake? Because I know Kester would never let us live if I ever dared to be Jake’s girlfriend.
The tension between us was starting to dissolve when my phone vibrated on the desk.
I almost ignored it.
Almost.
But then I saw the name flashing across the screen.
Kester.
My breath caught, my pulse stuttering in my throat.
I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen. I didn’t want to answer this in front of Jake because I knew what the call would be about.
But if I didn’t answer, Kester would keep calling. I knew him well enough to be sure of that.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Kasmine.”
Just my name. Low, rich, and filled with that quiet, infuriating arrogance that never failed to unnerve me.
I pushed up from my chair, gripping the phone tighter. “I need to take this,” I told Jake, forcing a small smile before walking out of the office.
The moment I stepped into the hallway, I exhaled sharply, my voice dipping into irritation.
“Kester, what the hell were you thinking?”
A beat of silence.
Then he spoke, “I assume you got my present.”
“Of course I got it,” I hissed, my grip tightening around the phone. “You sent it to THE office, Kester. Do you have any idea what kind of attention it already drew?”
His laugh was quiet and utterly unbothered. “And?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “And? Are you serious? Do you not give a damn about the kind of questions this could bring up? Or did you want people to start talking?”
“I don’t give a fuck, Kasmine. Besides, it had no name from the sender, did it?”
I knew what he was doing. He enjoyed it when I was on the edge and at his mercy, wondering what next he was up to.
“Kester-“
“You’re meeting me at The Amarante Spa in an hour.”
Iblinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Kester, I can’t-“
“An hour, Kasmine.”
The line went dead.
KESTER.
My fingers drummed against the wheel, the rhythmic taps Barely keeping pace with the storm in my head. The heat in the car threatened to suffocate me. But it wasn’t as a result of the temperature. It was her. Kasmine.
She was thirty minutes late. And, fuck, I was losing my patience.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay away from Kasmine for too long. It grew worse the moment I finally made her mine.
I had only been away from her for a few hours. Too long.
The craving was already unbearable, like an addict whose next dose hadn’t arrived yet. She was in my blood like a sickness I had no cure for… A hunger that refused to be satisfied, no matter how many times I took her, held her, breathed her in.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel as a slow, creeping rage curled in my gut.
What was she doing right now? Laughing, all smiles and teeth with Jake? Was that why she kept me waiting- because that pathetic bastard thought a single wilted rose was enough to impress her?
I saw him slinking out of that run-down flower shop, clutching it like some grand gesture, and I almost pitied him. Almost.
A real woman like Kasmine deserved more than whatever pocket-change sentiment he scraped together. It didn’t take me a minute to stop by a real florist-the kind that didn’t reek of desperation and cheap perfume-and hand- pick something worthy of her.
And I already knew how it played out. Even if I wasn’t there, I could picture it: Jake standing there, shoulders sinking, looking at my flowers and realizing-no, feeling how painfully inadequate he was.
I pulled out my phone and navigated to the tracking app. It was a good thing she still had her necklace on.
When I checked, I found she was already on the move. She was just a few minutes away.
Manageable. I’d survive.
My idle mind had the time to wander to things it shouldn’t. The images of ‘her’ flooded my mind again…
There was blood everywhere. Her pleading eyes looked at me in horror as my fingers burrowed deep, closing around her beating heart. She had begged. She had pleaded. Her hands had clutched at me while her nails raked at my skin in a desperate, useless fight for life.
But I had been patient. So painfully patient.
I had ripped it out slowly. Let her feel every inch of it until she breathed her last.
A cruel smile twitched at the corner of my lips. It served her right. But why did the image haunt me from that moment on?
No one, not even my father, knew what I had done until this day. Everyone just concluded she had left because her mate got married to someone else.
Very laughable.
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