Page 154 of Monsters Wear Crowns
I curled my fingers against my chest, nails digging into my skin.I don’t blame him.
Not entirely.
But Ishould.
He had no right to do what he did. No right to force himself upon me, to leave behind bruises I still felt even now. But he cared about me so much he nearly destroyed himself for it.
Was I being manipulated? Twisted into believing this waslove? Was I turning into my mother–clinging to a man who burned me alive, confusing pain with devotion?
The thought made me sick.
Numbness slithered through me as I stared at the untouched coffee on my kitchen island. My reflection wavered in the dark surface, a stranger’s eyes staring back. I didn’t know who I was anymore. Didn’t know what the hell I wassupposedto do. All Iknew was that I needed to get out. But the place I wanted to go? It wasn’t wise.
Not for my heart.
***
The lounge was a mistake. I knew it the second I stepped through the glass doors. The hum of low conversation, the scent of top-shelf whiskey and expensive perfume, the clink of crystal against marble. It was too familiar, too steeped in memory.
But I stayed.
I sat at the exact same stool where it all began and ordered a dirty martini, the cold bite of vodka settling in my throat. The room around me shimmered with soft golden light, the kind of ambiance designed to make you relax. But I was already restless.
My eyes flicked toward the door every time it opened. My heart jumped at every brush of movement in my periphery. And when the bartender asked if I wanted another, I realized my glass was already empty. So I nodded.
I needed air.
The rooftop terrace was nearly deserted, strung with delicate lights swaying in the warm summer breeze. The city sprawled out beneath me, glittering. It was endless and alive, reminding me of the power and wealth beneath its beauty. I closed my eyes, letting it wash over me. Trying to quiet the storm inside me.
But then, sudden goosebumps broke out over my skin.
I froze, listening to identify the sound of low and intentional footsteps. My fingers tightened around my glass. My pulse stumbled. And when I turned, the breath left my lungs in a rush.
Rafe.
But not the Rafe I’d last seen–the unhinged, sadistic man covered in blood. This was the Rafe from before. The hunter in the shadows.
The stranger.
The black hoodie was pulled low over his face, his hands buried deep in his pockets. But even in the dim light, I saw the tension in his body. The quiet, dangerous stillness of a man waiting to pounce.
He stopped a few feet away, his eyes locked on mine. “You shouldn’t be here alone.”
My grip on the glass tightened again. “I’m not your responsibility anymore.”
His jaw flexed, but he didn’t say anything.
The wind tugged at my hair, brushing it against my face, and his eyes followed the movement. It felt like being touched. “You followed me,” I accused softly.
His lips curled, the ghost of a smile with no warmth behind it. “You knew I would.”
I gnashed my back teeth together.He was right.We stood there in the half-darkness, the city roaring beneath us. I wanted to tell him to leave. I wanted him to stay.
“Why did you comehere, Adela?” he asked finally. “Of all places?”
I swallowed. “I don’t know.”
He stepped closer. Not much–just enough to crowd the air, to fill my senses. “Liar.”
