CHAPTER SEVEN
LILA
I sprint through the maze, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my mind racing faster than my feet.
The real question is, who am I looking for?
And why? Batman? The Phantom? …Both? No.
Stop it, Lila. This isn’t healthy. Stop thinking with your vagina.
I’m looking for Beck… Yeah, Beck. For my mom.
He can help her. He knows people. He’s powerful.
That’s the reason I’m trying to find him. Nothing more. End of story.
But then there’s the other issue. The one I’m fighting internally.
Why does my pulse spike at the thought of the Phantom? I mean, is he even real… or just the shadow of my own darkness, finally seeping out? And why the hell does my body still hum from the way he looked at me, like he saw straight through my clothes and straight into my soul?
Something about him keeps pulling me back into that moment. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced… No, he wasn’t like anyone I’ve ever experienced. I don’t know him. But I want to.
I want to go back to that room. To take him in slowly.
To memorize every detail so I’ll never forget.
Oh God, and to be the one to touch him. To feel him unravel beneath my hands.
I want him to want me. To be pulled to me the way I’m pulled to him.
But honestly, it was probably all a fever dream, just panic mixed with being horny.
Maybe my body craved something so badly, it made him up.
I shake my head, forcing the thoughts away.
Focus. He’s not real .
When I win this, I can ask Beck Heartford for anything.
He could get my mom into a world-renowned treatment center.
The kind of facility and medications that only celebrities and billionaires have access to.
There’s always medicine for people like them.
Just not for people like us… We’re the ones no one notices.
The ones no one cares if they live another day.
Just another passing face on the street.
But Beck… he can pull strings. Maybe even fund an experimental trial, if one exists.
He could be the reason she gets another day. And I need her to have another day.
But at what price? What will I have to do? Damn it! He sounds like Rumpelstiltskin.
You never really know his intentions when he makes a deal. Is it to help… or to gain something for himself? Will I owe him more than I bargained for if I win this little maze game? Or am I just trapping myself in a maze he built… one I’ll never escape?
Atwisting battle of logic and desirerages in my head as I push forward, my bare feet pounding against the damp ground. Then… A break in the maze. I skid to a stop at a four-way split.
In the center, a stone table glistens under the moonlight, lined with rows of crystal shot glasses and handcrafted cocktails. Oh, thank God… This should shut my brain up. A gift for the competitors, no doubt. Or a trap. Either way, I don’t hesitate.
I grab the first shot.
This is for my mom. Nothing more. And Beck? He’s probably just another rich asshole
who doesn’t give a damn.
Adrenaline pulses through me. I throw it back as if it’s water. Then another. And another. The smooth liquor burns down my throat, drowning out the noise in my head. Heat stirs low in my belly, humming through my limbs. A feeling that is new and unfamiliar. Thoughts blur. Logic slips.
Shit. That’s good. And definitely expensive.
I turn to walk away and throw awink at the drinks, feeling the buzz. My bodythrums with a reckless energy. I glance up at thesky, searching for constellationsto guide me, but all I feel isthe intoxicating rush of power.
I’m going to win this. My momwill grow oldwith my dad.
She will watch me walk down the aisle to the love of my life.
She willwatch my kids grow up. She can’t give up…
I can’t give up.We have never had much, but we have always had each other, and I wouldn’t trade it for all riches in the world.
My parents are my lifeline. She’s not going to die. I won’t let her.
Determination burns through me like a second shot of liquor. I take off again, weaving through the maze… left, right, right, right, left.
Aster got caught. But I’m not Aster. I’m Lila fucking Anderson, and I won’t let that happen to me.
Then… A sound. Ahowl ripping through the dead of night, stretching long and guttural, bouncing off the hedge walls. Ifreeze mid-step, my breath hitching. Silence. Then, another howl.Closer this time.
A slow, creeping chill slithers up my spine. I swallow hard. “Hmmm… maybe Jacob from Twilight will come find me,” I whisper to myself. The words barely left my lips before agiggle bubbles up, slipping past my mouth before I can stop it.
Shit.
The shots arereallyworking now. I feelpowerful. Reckless. Invincible. A little too invincible. I need to move. That stupid giggle of mine probably echoed through the maze just like the howl, giving me away. I take another step, but the moment I round the next corner, I stop cold.
At the end of the narrow corridor, a figure stands, still and unmoving. His mask glows bright red in the shadows. A flickering light in the distance catches him just right, casting his silhouette. Tall. Towering. Unmistakably male.
Oh.
I can’t make out the details; he’s too far away.Too wrapped inshadows.But Ifeelhim. He isn’t just viewing me. He’sabsorbing me. His presence issuffocating. Electric. An intensity that coils around my lungs, stealing my breath.
Maybe he hasn’t seen me yet… Or perhaps Iwant him to.
My stomach tightens, my thighs pressing together on instinct. A twisted thought slithers through my mind.
What if I let him catch me? What if I let himtie me up?
We stare at each other. Neither of us moves.
The space between us feels too tight, too tense, too charged.
And then the unexpected happens… A hauntingly beautiful hum drifts through the air.
Pulling me in like a siren’s call, wrapping around my senses and dragging me into a trance.
I forget how to breathe. How to move. How to think.
Who knew a hum could be so sexy? God help me… I think I can fix him. I can fix the man behind the mask if he really is a monster.
The sound is close. Low. Smooth. Like he’s done it a thousand times. Each note flows from him effortlessly, like muscle memory… like sorrow turned into a melody. The tune is tragic. Elegant. Familiar.
I have heard it before, but what is it?
My stomach twists, and my heart races with anticipation .
Why is he humming? Is this a game? Or is it his warning? A declaration… that I’ve already lost.
He takes one step forward, just one, and it shatters my spiraling thoughts. I snap. My body reacts before my brain can catch up. I bolt. Sharp right. Left. Another left. The hedge walls blur around me, twisting and shifting, every turn a gamble.
Maybe I will crash into his big, strong, dominant arms… Lila, this is not the time.
Thechill in the air cuts through my skin like a thousand tiny knives. The ruffled glittering skirt clings to me, my bare feet freezing and damp from the dewy ground. Mybraid whips behind me as I push forward, lungsburning, throat raw.
Still, I swear I hear footsteps. Heavy. Slow. Taunting. He isn’t running. He doesn’t need to. He’s letting me run… letting the exhaustion catch up to my aching body. I turn another sharp corner and meet a dead end.
Gasping, Islam myself into the shadows, pressing into the maze wall, chest heaving.
“Dammit!” I mutter under my breath,shivering violently.“Why don’t they put this kind of thing on the invitation? I would’ve worn more clothes!”
Oh no… I said that out loud. My mouth is always getting me in trouble.
Stillness within the maze is eerie. But a shift in the air catches my breath.
Everything stills. My senses sharpen. I feel it…
the same suffocating presence I just experienced.
Somewhere beyond the twisting hedges,he lurks.
Patiently waiting for my next move. And I swear, whoever he is, he’s nearby.
My body betrays me, responding with an unexpected heat that blooms beneath my skin. Blood courses through me like molten lava, and I realize, to my embarrassment, that my expensive lingerie that Aster made me wear is completelysoaked.
Bracing my hands against the shrubbery, I lean forward, letting my head drop as I try to gather myself. My mind clouded with filthy thoughts of this masked man devouring me in ways I’ve never experienced before.
What is wrong with you?Are you sick?
A tingling sensation spreads across my upper arms, trailing up to the back of my neck and back down again.
Shit! I really am sick! Am I having a stroke? Why am I tingly?
I lift my head slowly, and in my peripheral vision, I catch a faint red glow… waiting for me to acknowledge his presence.
“You should never turn your back when you’re being hunted.
” His voice is smooth and dark, wrapping around me like smoke, thick and impossible to ignore.
Each word is laced with something deadly, and yet…
I can’t help but feel drawn in. It’s like his scent is a pheromone crafted to torture me.
Sandalwood. Spearmint. The hint of leather.
I feel the soft pressure of his gloved fingers on my arm, tracing a slow, deliberate line from my shoulder to the back of my neck.
My breath catches, my mind screaming at me to pull away, but my body stays frozen, gripped by something more profound than fear.
This touch, though unfamiliar, feels almost like destiny.
Slowly turning around, I come face-to-face with the masked figure.
The same LED mask that the other employees wore.
It has two glowing red X’s over the eyes and a sinister, gleaming grin.
He’s dressed in a sleek, all-black suit that sharpens the outline of his muscular physique, accentuated by the eerie red glow.
Unlike the others, he has added a black turtleneck beneath, making him look both expensive and warm.
My mind is screaming at me to run… to get as far away from this sick bastard as possible. But my body? My body betrays me, rooted in place, soaking up every sensation. Like it craves this twisted game of cat and mouse. Like I want to be toyed with… or maybe, just maybe, I want to toy with him.
He leans in closer, the glow of his mask illuminating my face. His fingers press firmer against the back of my neck, anchoring me in place. “I’ll give you a head start, princess,” he whispers, his voice silk and sin.
Then he vanishes. No footsteps. No rustle. Just gone, like he was swallowed by the night as if he was never there.
I stumble back, chest heaving, heart slamming against my ribs, my watch buzzing as it alerts me that my heart is racing.
But is this fear, or is it the excitement of playing his game?
The silence is deafening. And somewhere, deep within the maze…
he hums again. Slower this time. Louder.
Like a promise. He didn’t just let me go.
He wants me to run because the hunt… his game… has only just begun.