It’ll be the beginning of her decimation.

And mine.

18

Elsa

I agreed to stay the night.

Okay, agreeing isn’t the right word. I was coerced to stay the night.

Aiden knows how much I need the truth and like the psycho he is, he used my desperation to his benefit.

But then again, I’m well aware of his manipulations and I fell for them anyway, so I guess that makes me an accomplice.

I sit in the spacious round bathtub because Aiden ran another bubble bath for me.

It still baffles me how he has this level of care in him but still acts in an overbearing, almost oppressive kind of way.

It’s confusing.

He’s confusing.

He sits at my back like an overwhelming presence. I can feel his warmth without glancing back.

It’s different from the water’s coolness. Like a halo, it swallows me whole.

Goosebumps erupt on my skin with each passing second.

Aiden leans back against the bathtub with his legs stretched on either side of me as I sit in the middle.

I pull my knees to my chest and will my body to cool down for a freaking second.

If I give in to him one more time, I might start losing myself to him again.

That is if I didn’t already.

Why the hell did he tell me about his insomnia? He should’ve deflected like always. And what’s with the way he looked at me?

I’ll protect you.

His words send a shiver down my spine.

Nope. I’m not going there.

I’m only here to hear what he has to say. Once he’s done, I’m out.

A sponge comes in contact with my tense back. I purse my lips as he slowly lathers my skin with careful, gentle strokes.

The scent of coconut wafts in the air and fills my senses.

Stop.

Why can’t he be mean? Why does he have to enchant my body more under his spell?

“So?” I snap harder than I mean.

I wanted to douse the tingles he’s drawing out of my body, but it’s not working at all.

“So what?” He continues his ministrations.

“I’m waiting for the truth.”

“You sure you don’t want to change your mind?” His voice is quiet in the dooming silence of the bathroom.

“No.”

“Hmm. You might want to, sweetheart. I still don’t think you’re ready.”

“Let me worry about that.”

He’s quiet for a bit, and I think he’ll bail on me. He’ll be unfair like all the other times and laugh in my face.

This time I’ll only have myself to blame. I made a deal with the devil knowing exactly how conniving he can be.

“I’ll tell you a story,” he says.

“I don’t want a story, I want —”

“There were two friends.” He cuts me off, still sponging my back. “They were both ambitious and stopped at nothing to get what they wanted. They both had flowing businesses, but they decided against a partnership because they loved challenging each other more. The rivalry grew harsher and nastier over the years. They were both notorious businessmen and never cut each other any slack.”

His movements slow like he’s absent-minded. Instead of the sponge, his fingers draw down my back like he’s scribbling something. “Their rivalry began to cross limits in ways that neither of them noticed. Or maybe they did notice but they never gave a fuck. The moment their families got pulled into their rivalry, things became ugly.”

He stops talking and his fingers stop their caress. I turn around so my back leans against his bent leg.

Aiden watches me with darkened eyes. It’s like he’s surrounded by his black demons and all of them want to hurt me.

My breath hitches as my instinct screams at me to run. It’s one of those times when looking at him is exhausting.

I swallow, but I don’t move. “And?”

He’s silent for a beat. “And what?”

“Where’s the rest of the story?”

“Next time.”

“Next time?” I all but snap.

“You’ve been through a lot today.” His poker face is on. “You should sleep.”

“I’m not tired.” I push at his chest.

“Hmm. I thought you were sore. Maybe I shouldn’t hold back, huh?”

My cheeks heat at the promise in his words. I quickly recover when I recognise his tactics. “You don’t get to deflect your way out of this. You promised to tell me everything and now you’re telling me to go to sleep?”

He clutches my wrist and manoeuvres me so I’m facing him. His legs cage my waist and I have no choice but to bend my legs on either side of his hips.

At this position, my legs are stretched open and even though our lower halves are covered by the bubbly water, I can almost feel his erection near my most intimate part.

He threads his fingers into my loose hair and his gaze travels to my flushed breasts. My nipples harden under his intense scrutinising.

I only release a breath after he slides his metal eyes back to mine. “I didn’t say I’ll tell you everything, I said I’ll tell you a story which I just did.”

Frustration bubbles in my veins. Damn him and his manipulations. Will there ever be a day when he won’t pull me in hook, line, and sinker?

But that’s how it is with Aiden. If I want to get anything out of him, then I need to play his stupid games. I need to try and think with a mind as deviant as his.

Taking a calming breath, I briefly close my eyes before opening them again. He’s staring at my scar with that poker face.

If only I could read his mind and see what’s behind that facade.

Having him fixate on me that way brings a strange sense of vulnerability. The itch under my skin blooms to the surface.

I don’t know why he has an obsession with my scar.

Or with me, basically.

If what I heard from Jonathan and Silver’s conversation is true, then Aiden is supposed to hate me, not be this obsessed with me.

But then again, isn’t obsession just another form of extreme hate?

“Does the story you just told me have to do with what I overheard from Jonathan and Silver’s conversation?”

His gaze reluctantly leaves my scar to meet mine. “Maybe.”

“Ugh. Aiden! Give me something.”

“I will.” His lips tilt in a smirk. “If you’re a good girl.”

“Let me guess, that includes fucking you?”

His grin widens. “I’ll be the one doing the fucking, but yes, sweetheart. That comes with the package.”

I narrow my eyes on him.

It’s all a ploy. A mindfuck. Something he uses in his push and pull. If I want to know the truth and somehow still come out intact, then I need to negotiate my way out of his rules.

He doesn’t get everything.

Not anymore.

“No.”

He raises an eyebrow, but his hands tighten in my hair. “No?”

“If I follow your conditions, you’ll get whatever you want and you might never tell me anything anymore.” I place a palm on his wet chest and trail my hand down his hard abs. “I have a condition.”

“A condition,” he repeats as if he needs to hear the words to believe them.