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Chapter 4: Night 1/ Part 3

Author: Dark Rose
last update Last Updated: 2022-02-08 23:52:49

Faith's POV

I glance down at the napkin in my hand, the name "Alessandro" written on it. I whisper it to myself, "Alessandro..."

Good lord, just the sound of it makes my heart flutter. So hot... oh my god, get it together, woman I scold myself silently. My fingers tremble slightly as I fold the napkin and tuck it into my wallet.

Just as I’m trying to regain my composure, Dimitry suddenly appears beside me. Of course. Perfect timing, I think, forcing a casual smile.

"Faith... what did he say?" Dimitry asks, his voice low and a little too intense.

I furrow my brows, feeling a strange tightness in my chest. Why do I feel so reluctant to tell him? I don’t even know why. Weird, I think.

"It was a private conversation, Dimitry," I reply, taking a slow sip of my drink, hoping the distraction will dull the growing tension.

Dimitry looks at me, his eyes dark with something I can’t quite place. I watch him struggle to keep his anger in check. Okay, this is new.

"You don’t understand, Faith... how bad of a person he is," Dimitry mutters, his voice barely above a whisper, but sharp.

I raise an eyebrow. Now I’m really curious. "Why are you so adamant about me not talking to him?" I challenge, my voice cool, though the curiosity is bubbling under the surface.

I lean in a little, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. "Please, do enlighten me, Dimitry. What’s so bad about him, hmm?" I wait, eyes sparkling with mischief, but—nothing. He stays silent.

I sigh dramatically. "Figures," I say, standing up from the bar stool. Ugh, this is getting annoying.

"I'm going home, and I’m going alone," I add, a little more sharply than I intended, walking away from Dimitry. I can feel his worried gaze following me, but I don’t look back.

As I step into the cool night air, I suddenly wonder why I’m acting like such a brat. Why did I defend Alessandro so fiercely? It wasn’t like me at all. Normally, I’d listen to Dimitry, wouldn't I? But those onyx eyes… God, I’m a sucker for them. It’s like they pulled me in, and I couldn’t escape.

I rub my eyes, feeling a little too tired for this time of night. "So... tired," I mumble to myself, trying to shake off the fog in my head. I only had one drink, right? Why do I feel like this?

I blink, and the world seems to tilt. Something’s wrong—I'm not just tired, I’m... dizzy? My steps stumble, and before I can catch myself, a pair of strong arms catch me.

"I’ve got you," a deep voice says, and my heart skips a beat, but my head is too fuzzy to make sense of anything.

I try to focus, squinting up at the stranger. Who is he? My eyes blur, and I feel myself sway. He sighs, lifting me effortlessly into his arms in a way that’s somehow both comforting and unnerving. I don’t even have the energy to protest.

I blink up at him, staring into his eyes—those eyes, so hazel, so... dark. I can’t focus.

"Who are you?" I slur, poking his cheek a few times, trying to make sense of this situation.

He chuckles, low and amused. "You’ll find out more... soon enough, Angel," he says with a soft smile.

"Angel?" I repeat, testing the word out loud, my lips curving into a sleepy smile.

I feel so warm, so comfortable in his arms. I should probably be freaking out, but all I can do is snuggle closer, feeling exhausted and... strangely safe.

As I settle into him, I hear a low sound from his chest—was it a growl? Or a hum? Maybe it’s just the alcohol messing with my senses. Or maybe... maybe not.

Alessandro's POV

I hold Faith close to me, cradling her in my arms. The soft rise and fall of her chest as she sleeps is oddly soothing. I glance up at her house, the looming reality hitting me. Crap—I need to be invited inside.

"Faith," I murmur softly, my voice barely above a whisper, but she doesn’t respond. I give her a gentle shake. "You need to wake up."

She groans in annoyance, clearly not ready to leave the comfort of her sleep.

"We’re at your house..." I say again, more firm this time, trying to rouse her.

She stirs and reaches for her clutch with a tired hand, fumbling until she pulls out her keys and tosses them half-heartedly at my chest. I catch them easily, searching until I find the right one.

"You can come in," she mumbles, her voice thick with exhaustion as she yawns.

I raise an eyebrow, amused, and look down at her. Her soft breaths slow, and soon, they turn into little snores. Of course. She was a handful even when asleep.

As I walk her up the stairs, I can’t help but chuckle under my breath. I open her bedroom door, laying her down gently on the bed. I slip her shoes off and cover her with the quilt, making sure she’s comfortable.

I reach down and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, gazing at her face for a moment. She stirs, her eyelids fluttering as her half-lidded gaze meets mine. "Who are you...?" she mumbles, her voice barely audible.

I smile, my heart twisting in a way I don’t want to acknowledge. "Yours," I whisper, more to myself than her, but she doesn’t hear it before her eyes close again, her soft sighs filling the room.

After taking a final look at her, I turn to leave, locking the house behind me as I step back out into the night. Outside, my first command is waiting, a knowing look on his face as he raises an eyebrow at me. I roll my eyes, not in the mood for this.

"What are you waiting for?" he asks impatiently, clearly wanting to get to the point.

I sigh, trying to keep my voice steady. "Dylan, she doesn't know what we are. I’m not just going to turn her—that’s against the code, our code. They need to want it. If you forget that, I want you to look into her. Her background, family, everything. I need to know her—especially her connection to Cain." I pause, the weight of the situation settling on my shoulders.

He nods, recognizing the finality of my words, and the conversation ends there—well, for now. Dylan, knowing him, would bring it up again. But for now, it’s done.

"It will be done," he says, his form fading into the shadows before vanishing completely.

I walk across the street to my own house, a lingering glance over my shoulder at her window. She’s still on my mind, even after everything.

Faith's POV

I wake up, stretching a few times, and I must look like some demented spider, but it’s the least of my concerns. My head is groggy, my body still caught in the remnants of sleep. I wipe my eyes, slapping my hand on the bed as I try to pull myself together. It takes a second, but then everything comes rushing back.

My eyes widen, my heart leaping into my throat. Oh my god, I invited a stranger into my house. I gasp, scrambling up in a panic. "What the actual hell?!" I blurt out loud.

I run my fingers through my hair, trying to make sense of everything. "Who was he?" I whisper to myself. "Oh my god, I’m so stupid... so many levels of stupid."

I start going over everything in my head. Who took me home? Why didn’t they—wait, why didn’t they do anything? I’m still in my clothes from last night. Nothing’s out of place. He didn’t... God, he didn’t take advantage of me. Thank goodness. Who does that anymore?

Then there’s the nickname. ‘Angel’. He called me Angel. The word sticks in my mind, making my stomach flutter in a way I’m not sure I like. Why the hell am I feeling giddy? I groan, smacking my forehead. "God, I’m acting like a love-struck teen."

I shake my head, trying to shake off the absurdity of it all. "Okay. First things first. I need to get ready." Taking a deep breath, I get out of bed and start moving. "And then, it’s time to figure out who the hell my mystery man was."

His face flickers in my mind, but I quickly push it away. This wasn’t going to be one of those things I let go of. Not after last night. Not after him.

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