MALEVOLENT

Chapter 8 The Claim

Stepping out of the SUV, the soft fur of my coat brushes against the ground before anything else. As I glance at my phone, its screen illuminates the darkness with the stark digits: 1 AM. My heart skips a beat as I accept the driver's extended hand, his gesture a silent acknowledgment of my presence. My YSL heels click softly against the pavement as I guide my body to stand, the unfamiliar weight of luxury grounding me.

" This is for you Madam " , The driver bows while placing a key fob in my hand. " Go through the lobby and press PH on elevator E, Mr. Djokovic is aware of your arrival." Giving him a smile , I ascended the stairs and stepped into the Lobby. The stunning view of my reflection causes me to freeze when I walk past the mirror. The fur coat hangs off one shoulder displaying my emerald green skin tight dress that clings to my body deliciously, all of my curves displayed to perfection. . Kayla really did a great job in dressing me today, from the dress, to the flawless makeup, to the high sleek ponytail, they all scream perfection. I entered elevator E, which was waiting for me, and placed the keyfob to the button for PH. The only floor this Elevator goes up too. The 2 glasses of wine slowly creeped into my system, bringing an even more daring side out of me.

The elevator slows and I lift my head as the doors slowly open exposing an open space. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the living room, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline cloaked in darkness, illuminated only by sporadic flashes of lightning from the impending thunderstorm, and light from various candles strategically placed around the apartment. He is smooth, I'll give him that. My senses heightened as I took in the scene, feeling a mixture of nervousness and anticipation coursing through my veins. With every fiber of my being, I cling to my resolve, determined to hold my ground against the tide of his advances. The attempt to take in the heavy air is lost with uncertainty, the atmosphere is too thick.

I walk around the penthouse glancing over pictures before drifting to the window to admire the view. With each step I took into the room, the tension in my muscles ease slightly, replaced by a growing sense of anticipation. I can feel his eyes upon me.

" Do you like what you see? " His voice smooth as velvet pulling me out of my thoughts.

"It's beautiful", I say, turning around to face the man who has demanded my presence. He is gorgeous, that is for certain, my eyes examine him as he leans against the plush couch, his towering frame casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the room whole. Syrius stood at an imposing height of 6'4", his muscular form clad in a fitted shirt that hugged his tattooed arms and broad chest. His neck-length brown hair was swept back into a man bun, adding to his rugged appearance. His deep blue eyes, intense and penetrating, seemed to pierce through the darkness, pinning me in place with their unwavering gaze

" You're beautiful", he states his eyes telling me his intentions. A ghost of a smile displays on my lips , before I break our gaze I refuse to succumb to his charms. I know that allowing him to seduce me would only serve to bolster his ego, granting him a power that he does not deserve. I extend my hands out to him, not liking the magnetic pull that screams to be close , as if I am a moth to a flame.

" Where is my necklace?" I say showing a bit of annoyance, masking the butterflies that attack my stomach.

" I sent it to get fixed, the chain that holds the pendant was broken, The necklace will be back by the time you wake in the morning." he says. The morning? I take a deep breath annoyed. His eyes are still upon me. His gaze, sharp and deadly , lingers on me like a predator eyeing its prey. I feel the weight of his stare, an intense scrutiny that sends a shiver down my spine. It's as if he's dissecting my every move, searching for any hint of vulnerability to exploit. I could sense the simmering desire in the air between us, a palpable tension that hung heavy in the silence of the room. Syrius wanted me, of that much I was certain, but his demeanor betrayed a calculated restraint. I know he was carefully considering his next move, weighing his options with predatory patience. He expects me to react, men like him enjoy the chase, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. A clap of thunder rumbles through the air, followed by a flash of lightning that briefly illuminates the room. In that electrifying moment, he rises from the sofa.