chapter 2
Iselyn
My sleep breaks when the car comes to a stop in what looks like a parking lot.
I finally look at him. “Where are we?”
“Eclipse,” he says, getting out of the car.
I step out too, my legs still unsteady beneath me, my balance slightly off. “What am I doing here?”
“You’ll stay here tonight. Tomorrow, you’ll shift to a new apartment.”
I frown. “Who says?”
“Your father and brother.”
“Let me talk to them,” I mutter. Then it dawns on me my phone is in my bag. My bag is still in that restroom.
“The code is 110246.” He points toward a lift across the parking area. “Press it on that lift. The penthouse code is the same. I’m not interested in standing in a parking lot, but you can stay here if it entertains you.”
With that, he turns and walks toward the lift. The car door shuts behind me. The driver steps out, and leaves the parking lot. I remain standing there, frozen. I could take a cab to the university, but I don’t have any money.
Reluctantly, I make my way to the lift and punch in the code. Only then does it hit me, the first four digits are my birthday.
What a coincidence.
The lift opens to a corridor. I enter the code again and step inside the penthouse.
My breath catches. I take a quick look around the gorgeous space, the huge windows showing the city below, the shiny floors, and the stylish furniture, and then my eyes land on him. He’s sitting on the couch in the center of the living room, positioned to face the main entrance, watching me.
The weight of his gaze makes my skin prickle. Is it because the drug has seriously messed with my head, or is he actually watching me all the time?
I choose to believe the first option, because there’s no reason for the second to be true. I walk toward him, forcing my strangely misbehaving nerves into submission.
This is the first time we’re staying in such close proximity, and I’m not liking it even a bit. I want this to be the last time. If possible, I want to never see this man again in my life.
I sit down on the side couch. Not for a second have I met his gaze, and not for a second has he averted his eyes from me. The awareness of it messes with my already frayed nerves.
“When did you talk to my papa?” I ask, staring straight at the wall of glass in front of me, where the New York night sky stretches endlessly. I never thought I’d find something about this city beautiful.
He doesn’t answer.
I look at him. For a moment, we just stare at each other. I don’t let the moment stretch any longer than it already has.
“When did you talk to my papa?” I ask again.
His lip curls at the corner, just a little. “On my way to the club where you were partying.”
“What did he say?” I ignore his comment about partying.
“He said you need to live somewhere safe, and you need a security team. Since you can’t take care of yourself, someone else needs to get the job done.”
I’m not someone whose life is always in danger.
My father is no longer in power. That’s why I wanted to live like any other researcher who came from outside to attend this research program at the college.
Apart from me, there were only three others who came from outside; the rest were researchers from this university.
The college had arranged accommodation for all four guest researchers on campus.
But my papa made a deal with me, if I put myself in any kind of danger, he would either drag me back home or place me under security.
“But the place I’m living at is safe.” It’s a hostel with ten rooms; currently, only four of them are occupied.
“It’s not,” he says calmly.
“Why not?” I argue.
“You are the only female in that building.”
“So?”
“So you won’t live there with three other men. It’s not safe,” he drawls.
“Did you tell my papa about that?” I ask, because I told him nothing about it. “And how do you know all this?”
“You are staying in my territory. How will I show my face in Russia if something wrong happens to you here?”
I nod and get up from the couch. “Where am I staying?”
“Anywhere you want,” he says, standing up as well. “My bedroom is upstairs, if you want to sleep there.”
For a moment, I think I’m having verbal hallucinations. That I’m hearing some kind of nonsense no one could say for no reason. But the smile on his face tells me I’m perfectly fine. Not hallucinating, at least.
“Wait a minute, Matleon. What’s with this behavior of yours? You’ve been staring at me all evening, and now you’re asking me to sleep in your room.”
His smile widens. “I’m not asking, Angel. I’m just offering, in case you’re interested.”
My brain stops processing for a second after hearing Angel from his mouth. My frown tightens so hard I feel pain between my brows.
“I’m not interested,” I say through clenched teeth.
He’s making fun of me. He’s making fun of my feelings again. Old wounds tear open in an instant. I turn and rush toward the door of his penthouse, the same one I entered through, my steps frantic.
I can’t let him see how much it’s still affecting me
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, following me.
“I’m going back to the university,” I say without turning around, blinking rapidly to keep the pathetic tears trapped inside my eyes.
I open the door. He closes it again.
“You will stay here.”
“I don’t want to,” I tell him.
He stares at my face, his expression serious, then suddenly extends his hand. Caught off guard by his abrupt movement, I step back and trip on my heel. Before I can fall, he catches me, holding me tightly against him.
My heart starts racing without warning. I try to calm it, steady myself, then push against his chest to break free. But he doesn’t let me go.
I look up at his face. He’s so tall that even with my heels on, I barely reach his neck. “Let me go.”
“No.”
I push harder. “Don’t mess with me, Matleon.”
“I’m not messing, Angel. I don’t want to let you go. Can’t I just hold you for a few minutes?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Who do you think you are to even think you could hold me?” I keep pushing him with all my strength, but this man is a mountain, impossible to move.
Suddenly, he lifts me up, my feet dangling in the air. One of his arms wraps around my waist, the other slides under my thighs. He starts walking back inside.
I hit his shoulder, shouting now. “Put me down, Matleon, or I swear I’ll hit you hard.”
He grins, looking at me. “I’d love to see how hard you could hit me.”
He is so damn close, his breath hitting my face, his black eyes shining right in front of mine, pulling me in. There’s barely an inch of distance between our faces; even if I move accidentally, I’ll kiss his lips. My body welcomes the thought with a shiver. I think the drug is still in my system.
He shifts my legs to the side, holding me in such an uncomfortable position that my waist feels like it’s about to snap. Only then do I notice we’re ascending the stairs.
He enters a room, puts me down, then closes the door behind him.
“What are you doing?” I ask. My voice sounds foreign again. God knows when this drug will leave my body completely.
He comes closer with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”
I keep walking backward. “Stay away from me if you want to stay alive.”
He laughs. “It’s very late for that threat to take effect.”
My back hits the wall. He cages me in, his body pressing close, leaving no space between me and the wall. “Why are you doing this?” I ask, keeping my voice steady even though I’m thoroughly unstable.
“Isn’t it clear yet, Angel?” he says in a voice so soft it doesn’t even sound like his own. I’ve never heard him sound like this.
My breaths have become shallow, like I’m underwater, drowning. But the water isn’t blue—it’s black, like hell—and it’s nothing other than his eyes drowning me. I’ve heard black eyes don’t exist. They should meet Matleon. The prince of the underworld.
Even a room full of people can start trembling under his attention, and here I am alone.
So it’s not my fault that my body is shivering, even though all I can feel is heat on my skin—the heat of his massive existence.
It radiates from him, like he has a fireplace burning inside.
I’m sure if he touches me, I’ll find his hands burning hot.
And why the hell am I thinking about him touching me again and again?
I know why. It’s that damned drug.
I try to take a long drag of breath to deal with the sudden dip in my oxygen levels, but it hurts my lungs. Every breath puts too much pressure on them. I lift my hands, touch his chest, register the hardness and the heat beneath my palms, then push him with all the shaky strength I have left.
I’m one hell of a disappointment to my papa. He invested such a huge amount of time training me, and here I am.
He moves away. I take deep breaths silently, but he can see it. He can see the effect he has on me. I grit my teeth. Leave Dad, even I’m disappointed in myself.
“Look, Matleon—” I start, but he interrupts me with that goddamn smirk.
“I am.”
“If you think I’m still having that fledgling love for you, then you’re very wrong.
If you’re making fun of me because once upon a very long time ago I had a few teenage, unreasonable feelings for you, then let me tell you, it’s not funny.
I don’t care about it anymore, but you will only look immature. ”
I deliver the speech I’ve repeated in my head more times than I’ve ever said my own name.
Over all these years, I wanted one such opportunity, one moment where I could tell him that that love was not something important to me.
Even though it’s a lie, I want him to believe it, so he thinks he was never something important in my life.
He rubs his chest, looking away. “It hurts.” Then he smiles, looking back at me. “But it’s a good thing it wasn’t that serious for you. We can start fresh, with no hard feelings from the past.”
My mouth hangs open. I’m at a loss for words.
He’s talking like it was nothing. Like the past meant nothing.
And yes, I’m the one who said it, but how does he even come up with this nonsense so quickly?
I want to curse him, shout at him, tell him in the ugliest way possible how much this bastard hurt me back then.
But now I can’t do any of that, because I said it wasn’t serious.
“I don’t want to start anything with you. I don’t like you at all—”
He interrupts me again. “But I do. And I have every right to pursue you.”
My soul almost leaves my body. Can he hear himself? What does he take me for? He makes fun of my love, disappears for four years, and then comes back saying I like you and I have every right to pursue you.
My head is about to explode with the intensity of my rage.
“What do you think you are, Matleon? You crush a girl’s heart under your feet and then come shamelessly after a few years, claiming you have the right to pursue her,” I shout at the top of my lungs.
“But you just said it wasn’t that serious,” he says, still as calm as if we’re discussing food preferences.
I grit my teeth, my breath hot and rapid with anger. I know I must look like a tomato right now—completely red. I look around the room, grab a book from the nearest surface, and throw it at him. He dodges it easily.
“Get the fuck out of here, you fucking bastard,” I scream.
He comes closer.
I turn and yank open the drawer. I know every one of them keeps a weapon near their bed, and I find a gun. I grab it, turn around, flick the safety off with my thumb, chamber a round, and point it straight at him.
“Get out of here.”
“It’s empty.”
“It’s not,” I say firmly.
He stops in his tracks, watching me with that infuriating smile, like he’s admiring something instead of being threatened.
Then, slowly, he turns and leaves the room.
I lock the door behind him and lean against it. The gun falls from my shaking hand to the floor. I’m so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened that all I want is to forget it. But it doesn’t work like that.
Matleon is a curse I could never forget.
Everything was going fine in my life. And then he came like a storm, shaking everything in just a few hours.
I clench my fists.
No, Matleon.
Not again.