Under Your Scars (Under Your Scars, #1)

by Ariel N. Anderson

“My boss Neil is awful, but I want to be a lawyer, and working for him will look good on my résumé.” “Neil Hayden?” The Silencer asks, and my blood instantly runs cold when he says that name, because he knows exactly who I’m talking about. “What does he do that’s so awful?” “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” “Yes, it does.” “Why?” I ask, and he stands up slowly. Pushing off his thighs with his fists, he takes a large step towards me. My stomach flips, and I cower further into the wall, quickly letting an answer escape my chest before he comes any closer. “He just does everything in his power to make me feel small and useless. That’s it. It’s really not a big deal.” He leans closer to me, lifting a gloved finger to lightly touch my chin. “Everything that happens to you is a big deal. Say the word, and I’ll take care of him.” “No! God, what is wrong with you? Neil Hayden being a dickhead isn’t grounds for murder.” He lets out an amused huff and I think if he didn’t have that mask covering his face, I’d see a sinister smile painted across his lips. “Well, you’re no fun at all, angel.”

Christian glances at the bouquet on my desk and nods towards it. “Pretty flowers...” He rubs a finger over the acrylic nameplate next to the vase. “Elena.” Holy shit. Holy fuck. The way this man just said my name was pure sex. I take one small step backwards to try and relieve some of the tension that’s pooling between my legs. What I wouldn’t give to have him say my name like that again. Like it’s the prettiest sound in the world. Like it’s coated in sugar and dripping with honey, and he’s got a massive sweet tooth. I blink and look at the flowers, cotton mouth stealing my ability to speak. “Thank you.”

“You will rehire Ms. Young, immediately, with double pay and full employer-paid benefits.” Settling back comfortably into his chair, he waits patiently for Neil to answer. My mouth falls wide open in shock as Neil’s judgmental gaze flickers to me and then back to Christian. “I see what this is,” he says, lacing his fingers together and resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. “What did she tell you about me?” Christian raises an eyebrow. “She’s told me nothing.” Neil chuckles to himself, scratching the top of his shiny bald head. “You’re telling me Christian Reeves is giving Eliza Young her job back out of the kindness of his heart? I wasn’t born yesterday.” “What are you implying, Mr. Hayden?” Christian asks in a low growl, his tone as toxic as the stick between his teeth. “I’m just saying she’s got one hell of a mouth to have a man like you pulling strings for her, that's all.” Neil shrugs and pumps his fist near his mouth in a vulgar gesture so that it’s incredibly clear what he’s implying.

“Mr. Hayden, her name is Elena. I have never slept with her. If that implication ever leaves your mouth, or this room, or you so much as think it again, I will shove a lawsuit so far up your ass you’ll be able to taste paper. You will rehire her, and if you retaliate in any way, I will know, and you will regret it. Is this in any way unclear?” “You’re crazy!” Neil whimpers against his desk. “Call the police if you want. But I can make or break your career. You piss me off, and all it takes is a few phone calls to have you blacklisted from the legal field in under an hour. If you want to keep your seven-figure salary, I suggest you do what I say, keep your mouth shut, and start treating Ms. Young with a little respect. Clear?” Neil nods his head against the glass of his desk and Christian lets him go. I shake in my seat as Christian sits back down in his chair, and then he turns to face me, smiling as if I hallucinated what just happened. “Elena, would you be so kind as to make Mr. Hayden and I some coffee? I’ll take mine black, thank you.”

“If you don’t stop talking about her like that, I’ll break your nose,” Christian threatens, and his voice is filled with so much venom that I believe it. “And for every minute it takes you to get the hell out of my building, I’m going to break one of your fingers. I’ll give you a thirty second head start.” Neil begins to laugh humorlessly. Christian releases my wrist and I breathe a sigh of relief. He reaches into his blazer and pulls out a golden pocket watch with a monogrammed ‘R’ engraved into the metal. “Sit,” he commands, and the last thing I want to do is get on Christian’s bad side, so I take a seat in the chair next to him again. He leans over and hands me the pocket watch, opening it for me and wrapping my fingers securely around it. It’s heavy. It must be solid gold. “Elena, every time the small hand passes the twelve, tell me.” I tremble as I look down at the watch, my eyes following the small hand as it clicks around the clock. “It passed,” I say quietly, looking up to Christian, who’s stuck in a staring match with Neil. “That’s one finger,” Christian says, taking a sip of his coffee. I look back down at the watch just as it passes the twelve again. “It passed.” “Two. Better hurry, Mr. Hayden, or I’ll have to move on to toes.” “You’ve got to be shitting me!” Neil says. “You can’t do this!” “I own this company, I assure you, I can do whatever the hell I want, and what I want is you off of my payroll.” “It passed.”

“He won’t bother you again.” I look up at him through my lashes, slowly, like he’s a snake and I’m trying to avoid sudden movements. I chew on my bottom lip. “You just fired your best attorney.” He chuckles. “He’s not going to make accusations like that to my face and get away with it.” His tone comes out nonchalant and suave, all the while I’m strung tighter than a drum. “The way he spoke about you made me want to throw him off the roof.” “I don’t understand why you’d do something like that for a nobody like me.” His answer is immediate, like it’s been rehearsed. “You’re so much more than a nobody, Elena.”

“Listen to me, Elena. If Valenti ever tries to take you downstairs, you run. You run away from him and hope that while you’re running, he shoots you in the back. It’s better than what’s waiting for you down there. I don’t know if Reeves is a part of it or what, but just…stay away from them.” I gulp. “What happens downstairs?” She doesn’t answer me, so I pinch her arm lightly. “Tell me.” She sighs. “Valenti always has a ‘favorite’. She becomes his personal bartender for a while, and then if he takes her downstairs, I never see her again, and he comes back out of that elevator with duffle bags full of cash. You can let your imagination fill in the rest.” She pinches me back. “Tell anyone I told you that, and I’ll shank you.” My stomach flips. If what Kate says is true, I’m praying I’m not Frank’s next bartender.

“What’s it going to take?” Goosebumps prick over my exposed skin. The bottom of my spine tingles. “What?” “For you to stay in Meridian City. What’s it going to take?” I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to answer that. The only reason I’m in Meridian City in the first place was because of law school, but now? I don’t have a reason other than my dream position at Reeves Enterprises. Though the fact that the CEO of Reeves Enterprises currently has his groin pressed against mine, that dream is just a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen.

He slowly stuffs the roll down the valley of my breasts, and then uses his thumb and forefinger to lift my chin. He gives me that billion-dollar smile that makes me weak at the knees. “Until next time, Elena.” Oh yeah, I’m definitely going to imagine him saying my name like that with my vibrator against my clit tonight.

While I appreciate his generosity, I’m actually fucking mortified at the thought of ever running into him in the office again. I really don’t know how we’re going to come back from our ‘dance’ tonight. For a dance, there sure wasn’t a lot of dancing but a whole lot of him making out with my neck and grinding his dick against me. Not that I minded it.

“You looked real cozy with Christian Reeves at that club tonight. No wonder you haven’t been home all week.” My face drops. “How…how do you know about that?” “I can’t say I was expecting to see such a clean-cut girl like you in that place. Tell me why you started working there.” I bite my cheek. “I needed a new phone.” “I bought you a new phone.” I scoff. “You’re deranged if you think I’m putting any of my personal information into that thing.” He laughs. “That’s not the reason I’m deranged, angel. And you don’t have to worry, I didn’t do anything to it. Didn’t you see it was still factory sealed?” “I’m not using it.” I go to my nightstand and pull out the box from under my money and throw it roughly into his lap. “Here. Go get your money back or something and get out!” He lets the box fall off his lap and onto the floor. “How much did Reeves pay you for your little tryst in the club? I’ll pay double for a lap dance.” “I’m calling the police.” “With what phone, Elena?” God fucking damn it.

“You’re begging, angel, but you’re begging for the wrong thing.” He runs a finger over my bottom lip and it makes me shiver. “Such a pretty mouth.”

The first thing I do on Saturday is buy myself a new cell phone and call the police. I’m put on hold for two hours before the line goes dead.

“I’d like to take the attorneys to tour the campus, connect with some of the kids there, and then have a meeting with them to make sure we’re still perfectly in compliance with the law. Have them spot any potential lawsuits, that kind of thing. Think you can arrange it for me?” “Yeah, absolutely. I think that’s a great idea.” My words get caught in my throat, but he politely grins and waits patiently for me to finish my thought. “Do you think I could come too? I’ve always wanted to see it in person.” “You don’t even have to ask. I’d be lost without you by my side. In fact, I’d like to promote you. Since you no longer have a supervising attorney, I’d like you to be my personal secretary instead,” Christian suggests casually, as if his words didn’t just sucker punch me square in the mouth.

He brushes a strand of my hair back from my shoulder. “Come to dinner with me, Elena.” I shudder from the unexpected touch. My eyes blow wide, and I take a step away from him. “What?” I ask, my chest heaving. “Why?” He chuckles and takes me lightly by the waist, pulling me closer again, his thumbs rubbing small circles onto my hip bones. “Because I want to take you to dinner.” “I…I work for you,” I remind him. “I’m pretty sure there’s a clause in my employment contract that says if I so much as breathe in your direction outside this building, I’ll be sued so aggressively my grandchildren won’t be able to afford to eat much more than dirt. And not to mention what happened at the club.” “With a napkin and a flick of my wrist I can make you the exception to all of those rules.”

“Such a sour puss tonight. What’s got you all worked up, angel?” I roll my eyes at the nickname. “Why would I tell you?” “Because that’s what good girls do.”

“I thought you’d be mad,” I admit, changing the subject. “About me kissing someone else.” He chuckles. “You’re nothing but trouble, Elena Young. Want to know why?” He leans over, folding me in half again so he can whisper into my ear. “Because I know there’s a part of you, deep down, that’s upset I don’t have you bent over my lap right now, punishing you for letting another man touch what’s mine.” I frown, my earlier sympathy gone. “You want to know a secret, asshole?” I mumble, pushing him away from me, and this time, he sits back. “Remember how you said the next time I’d touch myself, I’d think of you?” He nods enthusiastically, and I sit up completely, pushing him again until he’s flopped onto the bed, his head and shoulders hanging off the edge, and I straddle him. I lean far, far over until my chest is pressed against his, and the vein on his neck is thick and protruding against his throat. And then I slowly reach to his thigh, pull a knife from the sheath, and press it against his neck with the sharp blade digging right into that vein. I do it slowly because I know if he was truly worried about me slicing open his throat, he would never have let me wrap my fingers around his knife. He’s giving me an illusion of control, and I can feel a bulge pressing against my center, telling me that he’s just a little too into it. I lean down to whisper in his ear. “You were wrong. I didn’t think about you. I thought about him,” I purr, making my voice as sultry as I can with ...

“It’s in case you ever need help,” he explains. I lift the chain to examine it. “The charm attached is a silent panic alarm. You turn it on by clicking it five times. You’ll feel it vibrate, and it will send me an alert with your exact location. If you press it, I’ll come. No matter what.” Unease flips my stomach as I stare at the device. “How do I know you’re not just using it to track me all the time?” “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” He takes a deep breath, his body unnaturally rigid. He nods towards it. “Put it on.” “Give me one good reason why I should.” My attitude never seems to faze him, and he grips my jaw roughly. “Because if you were really scared of me, you would fight harder. You would run when you see me. You’d scream and beg for your life, but you don’t, Elena.” His voice is gravel behind that mask, but it doesn’t lack finesse, and it envelops me like a snake strangling its meal. Its rough edges trail up my spine like phantom fingers, coming to rest on my blushed cheeks. “You’re all alone in this city. If I killed you, it’d be days before anyone found you.” His fingers sensually trace my neck and the collar of my shirt, coming to rest along my throat like a necklace. He squeezes so gently, just enough to quicken my heartbeat but not enough to steal my breath. “I don’t want to kill you, angel. I want to keep you all to myself. You’d better take off those rose-colored glasses and accept that the only place you belong is in my black heart.” Gone is the w...

“I’m going to figure out who you are under there.” I tap his mask. “I don’t just mean your name.” “What will you do once you know who I am?” “Easy. I’m going to collect that one-million-dollar reward for turning you in to the police.” I can tell that he’s got a smirk painting his lips from the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Before he steps onto the fire escape outside my window, he blows me a kiss from behind his mask. “Until next time, angel.”

The unfiltered rage in his eyes scares me to death. “Who did this to you?” he asks quietly, though his tone couldn’t be any more venomous. When I don’t answer, he sends his fist flying into the wall next to us so hard that I’m confident I heard his knuckles break. I get the faintest glimpse of blood smeared over his fingers when his hand goes back to my cheek. “If you don’t tell me the truth right now, I will find out myself by burning this fucking city to the ground.” “It was a leash. I got in trouble for messing up a drink and it was my punishment. I had to wear a leash and work completely naked. They threw whiskey in my face and cut off my clothes with a knife.” I motion down at the large shirt I’m wearing. “I had to borrow this from my friend Kate so I wouldn’t have to walk home naked.” He looks like he’s gone completely feral, and I begin to shake under his intense gaze. He grinds his teeth, his words dripping in pure venom. “I want names, Elena.” “Frank Valenti. He owns the place. And then his friends…Vic, Mike, Oliver, Simon, and Mario.” “I’m going to kill them,” he growls, ready to set the world on fire with his rage.

“They need to know what happens when they touch what’s mine, Elena. They’re going to convert religions, because they won’t be praying to God, they’ll be praying to me. Begging for my fucking mercy after I hunt them all down and show them the true meaning of fear.”

“Why didn’t you press your panic alarm?” “Because you would have come in there and gone on a murder spree to get to me, and I didn’t think it was enough of an emergency for that. I’m okay. It could have been worse.” “If your safety is even slightly in jeopardy, it’s an emergency to me. Next time, press the goddamn button.” “I don’t want to be the reason you lose your humanity.” He rubs my bottom lip with his gloved hand. “If you’re so concerned about my humanity, Elena, then reach into my soul and find it, because I’m not sure I have any left.”

“Welcome to the slaughterhouse, gentlemen.” It’s moments like this that I wish I didn’t wear a mask, because I want them to see my wicked smile. “I’m going to kill each of you. Want to know why?” One of them whimpers and it pulls a satisfied chuckle from me. Keeping my voice calm and collected, I crack my neck. “My angel told me that Valenti made her work naked, and you assholes touched her all night. That was a big fucking mistake on your part. Elena is mine. Mine to scare. Mine to chase. Mine to touch.” I choose one of the men at random, the one second from the right with the stab wound in his stomach and the missing ear, and I point my gun at him. “Tell me which one of you touched what’s mine first.”

“You look lovely, Elena.” He helps me into the passenger seat, his warm hand lightly holding me steady by my waist. “Sophisticated and beautiful.” “Are you trying to say I don’t always look sophisticated?” “I’ve seen what you wear under your shirt,” he quips, winking at me when the blush across my face turns three shades darker. He’s laughing at my embarrassment as he shuts the door before hopping into the driver’s seat.

“You’re calling me a hero when the only person worthy of that title is you.” “Me?” I ask, so off guard that I scoff. “Are you sick? Do you even hear yourself? What have I ever done?” “More than you could ever possibly know.”

“Hi. What’s your name?” She blinks, her blue eyes sparkling. “Caroline.” “Hi Caroline. I like your bow. Purple is my favorite color.” “Mine too!” she excitedly squeals. She looks at Christian and then back at me and gives me an adorable, toothy grin. “You’re pretty. Are you Mrs. Reeves?” I clear my throat uncomfortably with a nervous flush pooling in my cheeks. “Thank you, sweetie, but no, I’m not Mrs. Reeves. My name’s Elena.” She tugs me closer and cups her hand around my ear as if to tell me a secret, and she very loudly whispers, “Mr. Reeves thinks you’re pretty too, ‘cause he won’t stop looking at you.”

“How about a wager? Let’s play one full game. If I win, I get to take you on a date.” I hum. “And if I win?” “Whatever you want,” he answers, far too easily. “Whatever I want?” I repeat with a mocking gasp, and his eyes gleam with curiosity. I think about it for a minute. “Alright, Mr. Reeves. If you win, we go on a date—but if I win, I want an office with a view just like yours.” “You’re on, Elena.” He grabs my hand and I giggle as he brings us to one of the free lanes. Christian rolls first, lining up his shot and hitting nine pins on his first, and the last pin on his second for a spare. He winks at me, and I wink back, taking the ball in my hand and lining up my own shot. I hit a perfect, clean strike. I turn around to see Christian’s mouth hanging wide open, and I give him a triumphant smile. “How did you do that?” I tug my bottom lip between my teeth. “I was on my high school’s bowling team. National champions three years in a row.” He smirks. “How convenient of you to not bring that up until now,” he mumbles as I roll another strike. He gives me a playfully pained expression. “Best two out of three?” “No take-backsies. I’ll expect to move into my new office on Monday morning, Mr. Reeves.” And then I play a perfect game.

He presses me against the wall so hard my head knocks against the brick, but his hand cups the back of my head to soften the blow. “Ow!” I mumble, rubbing the spot. “What do you want, asshole?” “I need your help with something. And don’t be dramatic, I made sure to protect your pretty little head.” I roll my eyes. “You need my help? With what?” “Frank Valenti is up to something, and I want to know any information you can get me about this place. If you see or hear anything weird, I need to know.” A knot twists in my stomach and I rip my arm out of his grasp. “How exactly do you expect me to get this information? Why don’t you just break in, since you seem to be such an expert at that?” I mock, bitterly pointing out all the times he’s broken into my apartment. “I’m not exactly welcome here. It’s not as simple as walking in the front door.” I chew on my bottom lip. “What did you do?” “Exactly what I told you I would. I killed all Valenti’s friends. Spelled his name in their blood so he knows I’m coming for him next.” I shudder. “You can’t just keep killing people for—” “I can and I will, Elena. Until there’s no one left that can hurt you. That’s a promise.” I push him roughly away from me. “So, what, next time my father and I get in an argument are you going to run to Texas to kill him too?” He huffs, pressing himself into me and caging me between his body and the brick wall. He softens his voice. “No, angel. I would never hurt your family.”

“Look, I’ll try to help you, but only if you make me a promise.” He says nothing, but he nods for me to continue. “You have to promise me that you won’t hurt Christian Reeves. Ever. I like him. I don’t want to wake up one morning to see that you murdered him because you’re jealous I’d rather fuck him than you.” He raises an eyebrow. “Is that right, Elena? You’d rather fuck him than me?” “Yeah, I would. He’s actually nice to me, unlike you. And he’s not a fucking psychopath.” He raises both eyebrows this time, and then slots his knee between my legs to spread them slightly, the action causing my mini skirt to get dangerously short. “I can be nice, Elena. Want me to show you?” I instinctively shake my head. His hand snakes up my leg, stopping right at the bottom of my skirt. “You want me to make you cum so you can compare notes? Are you scared I can fuck you better than your boyfriend can?” “He’s not my boyfriend.” He chuckles against my neck. “I love how that’s the only thing you decided to respond to.”

“I have a confession,” he says, his tone hard with need as he whispers his dirty confession directly into my soul. “Did you really think it was a coincidence that you found me in that alley the night after I saved you? No, angel. I had been watching you from your open window all night. Were you thinking about me saving you when you used that cute purple vibrator on your pretty cunt? Were you wet thinking about using your body to thank me?” My breath quivers as his hand travels up my thigh again, and this time, I don’t stop him. “I stabbed myself in the arm and waited for you to find me, and I forced you to help me.” “You’re fucking insane,” I mumble, trying to find any rational thought in my brain. His left hand lightly squeezes my neck as my pulse thrums under his fingers. In my neck and my underwear. “Yes, I am,” he whispers breathlessly, grinding himself into me so I can feel his erection digging into my stomach. “And you are the object of my insanity.”

“If you want to know what we are, I’ll answer your question with another question. Would you like to go steady with me?” I violently choke on my champagne. “Go steady? What is this, 1945?” He smirks. “I’m serious, Elena. You wanted me to be straightforward about my intentions, and that’s what I’m doing. If you want to be together, then let’s be together.” Insecurity creeps up my spine. “Why me?” He takes a deep breath. “My parents died when I was six. For the past three decades, all I’ve done is focus on the past. You are the only thing in my life that’s ever made me consider the future. At first, the future was just the next day. I started sleeping better because I knew falling asleep would make tomorrow come faster and I would get to see you again. I wanted to get a glimpse of you, to see you smile, to hear you laugh. I made a game out of trying to guess how you’d wear your hair to the office. I was always looking forward to the next day because I wanted to discover one more piece of the puzzle that made up Elena Young.” He reaches across the space between us to tenderly hold my face in his hands. “And now I’ve got a whole section of my brain dedicated solely to you, and I think about more than just the next day. I see next week. I see next month. I see next year. I see you in every possible version of my future.” He presses a chaste kiss to my lips. “I’ve never been in a relationship. I can’t promise it will always be easy, but I can promise that I’ll always try to be t...

Christian Reeves doesn’t know how fucking lucky he is to have Elena and all of her affections. Yes, he’s charming and hot and rich and blah, blah, blah. But he doesn’t deserve her and it’s not fucking fair that he gets to have her, and I don’t. I don’t deserve her either, but that’s beside the point. She’s mine. I don’t have to deserve her for her to belong to me.

I know exactly why I desire her in my soul, and I’ll tell her about it one day, because she deserves to know why I call her angel.

“Mr. Reeves, you have to marry Elena right now!” She pushes the two plastic rings closer to us. “Hurry! Before she marries someone else!” “Caroline!” I hear a woman shout from across the room sternly. She’s clearly pregnant. She’s got that waddle from a belly that’s keeping her off center. She approaches us and her eyes blow wide when she spies Christian. “Oh! Mr. Reeves, I’m so sorry. Caro likes to slip away when no one’s looking and steal Tootsie Rolls from the prize counter.” “It’s alright, Kelly,” Christian assures her. Kelly takes Caroline’s hand, and Caroline’s lip quivers slightly as she gets led away by her teacher and she waves us goodbye. Christian laughs quietly while poking one of the spider rings on the table for a second, and then holds it up to me. “Elena, will you be Mrs. Reeves?” The giggle that escapes my throat is one of genuine amusement, and I playfully hold up my left hand to let him slip the plastic around my ring finger. I look at my hand and hum. “It’s beautiful.” “Thanks, it’s a Harry Winston,” he deadpans. “By the power vested in me by that four-year-old, I now pronounce you, Mrs. Reeves. May I kiss the bride?” I bite my bottom lip and nod, and he cups my cheek before kissing me deeply. I grab him by his tie and pull him a little bit closer. “I’m not signing a prenup.” He laughs against my lips. He lets me finish my milkshake and then we leave, driving through the city towards the office. About halfway there, Christian stops in a random parking g...

“Excuse me, Mr. Reeves, but you owe me an office,” I tease, elbowing him lightly. He elbows me back. “Shut up and take a closer look, Elena.” A closer look at what? At him? I blink twice, and he must sense my confusion, because he nods his head towards the elevator directory. I cup my hand over my mouth and gasp. “Tell me you didn’t.” The gold plaque that used to read CEO - Christian Reeves now reads Christian Reeves & Elena Young. “A deal is a deal, Elena.” He wraps his hand around my waist. “Even if you made that deal in bad faith, you won fair and square, and you said you wanted an office with a view just like mine.” “It wasn’t in bad faith!”

“Do you believe in soulmates, Elena?” I think about it for a long time. Do I? Everyone wants to believe they exist. Everyone wants to believe that there’s someone out there that was always meant to love them. “I think if two people are meant to be together, then they will be. I don’t know if that makes them soulmates though. I feel like a soulmate implies some sort of…divine intervention. I think the best love stories come from the people who say that love came out of nowhere for them, not from the people who were looking for love in the first place.” I squeeze his hand in mine. “Do you believe in soulmates?” The corner of his mouth tilts into a smile. “Not until I found you.”

“You’re nothing but trouble, Elena Young.” I blink at him, zoning out for a second, feeling like I’ve got the most uncertain hit of déjà vu in my life. I don’t hear the rest of his words. I don’t even realize I’m staring at nothing until he taps my nose. I bite my lip, embarrassed that I missed everything he said.

He pulls out his wallet and proceeds to shove a black American Express credit card between my lips, and then completely ignores my questions. “Go shopping. There’s a car waiting downstairs to drive you wherever you need. Find something pretty to wear tonight. Be ready to go at six.” My jaw falls open and the card slides from between my lips and lands in my lap. “You’re joking,” I scoff, wide eyed and confused while he stares with what I can only describe as pure adoration in his eyes as he kneels in front of me. “You’re giving me your credit card?” He raises a brow in confusion. “You want cash instead?” I giggle. “No!” I lean forward and kiss him, my mouth aching. “Is this a test? Am I supposed to say ‘no, don’t spend your money on me’?” “Elena, let me be very clear.” He stands up and leans against the desk, and then rubs his thumb over my cheek while I look up at him. “I will never, ever deny you anything. I don’t give a fuck how much it costs. You can buy the entire Chanel catalog and I wouldn’t bat an eye. Actually, please do that. My cock is already getting hard again thinking about you spending all my money.”

“He talks about you all the time,” Gavin says in his thick Jersey accent, causing my head to snap up to him in curiosity as we walk back to the car, a dozen shopping bags in his hands. “Don’t think I’ve heard him get through a sentence without mentioning your name.” “Really?” I ask, insecurity prominent in my voice. Gavin laughs quietly to himself as he opens the car door for me. I slide in and he walks around the hood to get in on the driver’s side. “What’s so funny?” “He’s down bad.” He takes off towards my apartment. “He was…different before he met you.” “Different how?” Gavin takes a deep breath as if he’s considering how much he should say. “Sad. Violent. Angry. I don’t think he’s smiled once in the past thirty years, but then he met you. I don’t mean that fake shit he does for the press. I mean a real smile.”

“Name?” “Christian.” “Age?” “Thirty-six.” “Too old.” “Dad—I’m twenty-nine!” I hear my dad mutter incoherently into the phone. “Yearly salary?” “He’s…comfortable. I met him at work.” “No good will come out of dating your coworker, Ellie.”

I’ve never felt so beautiful in my life, to have someone like Christian Reeves looking at me like he’s never seen the sky before—and I’m a bright, vibrant, sunny day.

“I’m just worried about not measuring up. You can have anyone you want and…I feel like I don’t belong in your world.” “Our world,” he corrects quickly after I finish. “Our world, Elena. There isn’t a you and me anymore. It’s us. You’re worried about not measuring up, but there’s no competition. Don’t compare yourself to women that don’t exist. We’re together now, nothing else matters. I know it’s easier said than done but try to let go a little bit and have some fun. This is a different life than you’re used to, and I get that, but it’s your life now too. You don’t have to feel bad about enjoying it.” The embarrassment in my cheeks turns into a blush. “I find it so hard to believe you’ve never been in a relationship when you always know the right things to say.” “I think I was saving all the charm for you.”

“And who is this lovely young woman?” “Elena Young,” I say politely. The mayor kisses my knuckles. “Otherwise known as my better half,” Christian quips, and my eyes snap up to him, wide with shock. We’re together, so it shouldn’t be such a surprise that he talks about me like that, but I don’t think it will ever fully sink in. Christian told me on the way here that he doesn’t like the term ‘girlfriend’ because he thinks it sounds juvenile. He also hates ‘partner’ because it sounds too emotionally detached and ‘significant other’ sounds too corporate. He made a joke that he couldn’t wait to refer to me as his wife, and I swear I stopped breathing for so long that I turned purple.

“Elena, talk about something. Distract me so I don’t go back in there and break his neck,” he says softly to me, almost pleading for help. My chest heaves with so much panic and confusion. What the fuck am I supposed to say? My voice trembles when I start talking, not even trying to make my thoughts coherent. “Okay, um…sometimes I think about stealing the hazelnut creamer from the office because I can’t afford my own, but I’m always afraid that if I do, you’ll go bankrupt and it will be my fault, and I’d go to jail over coffee creamer.” Christian lifts his head off mine and stares at me like I’m a fucking idiot. Of course, stealing creamer wouldn’t put Reeves Enterprises out of business, and nobody in their right mind would waste time with sending me to jail over creamer when there is an actual serial killer running around this horrible city. If my stupidity prevents Christian from going in there and giving Neil Hayden a broken neck to match his broken arm, it’s worth the momentary humiliation. Christian grabs me by the cheeks, closes the mere inches of space between us, and kisses me so hard our teeth clack together. He holds me impossibly tight to his chest as he steals the air from my lungs. He only lets me go once the purr of his car’s engine comes around the corner, but before he pulls away completely, he shakes his head roughly, and I hear him murmur through gritted teeth, “You’re the mistake.” His voice was so quiet, I don’t think he meant for me to hear it, and w...

“He didn’t mean it,” I mumble into her hair. “Why are you defending him? You’re supposed to be on my side!” “He wasn’t talking about you. I’d bet my life on it.” “Newsflash, asshole—you weren’t there.” She takes another sip of the alcohol and her face twists in disgust, like she’s only just remembered that she hates tequila. She slumps against me and spreads her legs in a very unladylike fashion. “God, I’m such an idiot for thinking someone like him could actually have feelings for me.” Her lip quivers and she tilts her head back to look up at me. “Do you think I’m a mistake too?” I rub a gloved finger along her jaw. “Of course not. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” She scoffs. “You’re crazy. You don’t even know me,” she protests with a sniffle. “I really thought I was special, you know?” “You are.” “Not to you, to him.” “You are.” “You know what? I don’t even care anymore.”

The hardest part about falling in love with an angel isn’t making her accept the fact that I kill people. It isn’t even keeping the identity under my mask a secret from her. It’s accepting the fact that Christian Reeves makes her happier than I ever could. It’s accepting the fact that I am not Christian Reeves. I am not Christian Reeves. I am not Christian Reeves. I. Am. Not. Christian. Reeves.

“Don’t worry, angel. I’m going to send you straight back to heaven.”

“Tell me your real eye color, then. Give me a part of you that no one else has.” He stares at me for a long while, as if to question himself how I know he’s wearing colored contacts. “You don’t get it, do you? You have every part of me already.” “Not your eye color, though.” He growls and grabs my face with his left hand and squishes my cheeks together, and I get a weird flashback of him doing this before, leaning over me with a tequila bottle in his hand. “Blue.” “Blue,” I repeat. “Can I see?” “No,” he snaps.

“Elena, you listen to me. Don’t you ever refer to yourself as ‘some woman’ again. You are the only woman I have eyes for. You are the only woman I’ve ever considered sharing my life with. I knew from the second I met you that I wanted to make you mine forever. You are everything to me.”

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. I give him a nod, albeit unconvincing. “Talk to me.” “I guess I’m just a little…shocked that you feel that way about me. We haven’t known each other very long.” I shrug my shoulders to convey that I’m not sure if what I’m saying even makes sense. “You shouldn’t be shocked. You’re extraordinary, Elena. I know you don’t see it, but I adore everything about you, even the parts of yourself that you’re insecure about. I know precisely how much creamer you put in your coffee because your nose does this crinkling thing as you pour it until it’s enough. I know you tend to forget your lip balm because you’ve got a dozen tubes of it all over our office. You lightly chew at your bottom lip when you’re concentrating and when you bowl you always double tap your foot before you roll.” I can feel my eyes sparkling from just how wonderful it is to know he commits all those seemingly unimportant details to memory. “I see more than you think I do,” he adds, and a stray tear falls from my cheek. I nod and wipe my face. “Do I at least look cute when I crinkle my nose?” “Fucking adorable,” he confirms. Once we’ve reached our cruising altitude, he leans over. “Want to join the mile-high club?”