My Devil Ex-husband's Obsession

8:00 PM

Taylor

The bass from the speakers thumped through the floor, echoing in my chest. My palms were clammy against my purse as I stood before the double doors. Behind me, laughter spilled from the cheaper section of the building, the one meant for employees like me who weren't "important" enough for the main event.

And yet, here I was.

The guards at the entrance glanced at my invitation and wordlessly opened the doors. My breath caught.

I muttered to myself," You can do this, Taylor. He's just a puppet of the devil. Not like he has powers or anything..."

Then, one of the guards snapped me back to reality. " Ma'am..."

I nodded and walked in holding the piece of hope left in me.

The room sparkled. Gold chandeliers, velvet curtains, champagne fountains every inch screamed wealth. I instantly regretted my simple gown and soft curls. Everyone dressed so expensive that they could pay my rent.

I was seconds from retreating when I felt a warm breath behind my ear.

"Didn't think I'd see you here looking like that," a voice drawled.

I stiffened. That voice. My heart did that thing again, skipping, stuttering, like it recognized the voice before my head did.

I turned and there he was. Devon stood there. Brown shirt unbuttoned halfway, showing the faint curve of his chest. A glass of whiskey dangled from his fingers, and his mouth tilted in that same crooked smirk that had once made my knees weak.

"Devon," I breathed. His name tasted bitter.

"I...uh.." The words died in my throat.

He smirked. "What? No snarky comment? That's not the Taylor I know."

I folded my arms, trying to seem composed. "I didn't come here to talk to you. I just want to leave before midnight."

"Leave?" His gaze dragged lazily down my dress. "Shame. You finally look like trouble and now you want to disappear?"

My heart gave a traitorous thump. "You're drunk," I muttered.

"Maybe," he said, stepping closer. "But I still know a lie when I hear one. You missed me."

I blinked, heat crawling up my neck. "You have a girlfriend, remember? Or did you forget her name tonight?"

His eyes darkened. "That's rich, coming from the woman who vanished without a word."

He looked me over slowly like he was cataloging every inch he'd once memorized. "You cleaned up nice," he said lazily. "Though you're overdressed for someone who wants to stay invisible."

I knew he was just trying to get on my nerves. How the hell am I overdressed?

"Maybe I would have put on a bikini just for you.." I mocked.

He chuckled, a deep sound that curled in my stomach. "Don't lie, Taylor. You love pretending you don't want to see me."

I rolled my eyes, stepping aside to escape his gaze. "You've had too much to drink."

"Not enough to forget how you used to look at me." His voice dropped low, intimate. "Like I was the only thing keeping you from breathing."

My pulse jumped. "You're imagining things."

He leaned in until his breath brushed my neck. "Then why are you shaking?"

I stepped back quickly, glaring at him. "You're unbelievable. You think you can walk in here, flirt, and I'll just..."

He cut me off with a quiet, dangerous smile. "Think? Babe... oh..I know.."

The silence between us thickened. I hated that he could still pull words right out of my throat, twist my heart, make it forget my words. It was understandable because I felt high over heels for this man and my love for him got to a point where I said I'd die for him. For a moment in the past, I thought of returning to him.

I know I've burned every part of my heart that loves him but even when you burn an object, part of it still remains as ashes. It's never burnt completely.

I tried to sidestep him, but his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my wrist, not hard, but firm.

"Devon, let go," I said quietly.

He leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek. "How about a dance? In the..gallery!"

" In the gallery? Really?" I snapped, yanking my wrist back.

My gaze went to his pocket and asked, " What's in your pocket? Huh? "

For the first time, he stuttered, " No .. nothing.."

I knew him. Too well. In the swift of a motion, I put my hands in his pockets and brought out a condom.

I shut my eyes and opened them releasing a sigh, " Please tell me this is for your girlfriend? "

" Yes, you! "

My lips parted, but before I could speak, his breath hit stronger, sharp and I suddenly wanted to gag.

"Devon, please. You reek of whiskey. Just go home before you embarrass yourself."

He froze. His eyes flickered between anger and confusion, and for the first time, he looked... lost.

But I'd had enough.

I spun around and started walking off, my pulse drumming in my ears.

As I moved forward, I spotted someone across the room, the same coworker who'd mocked me in the office yesterday. She shouldn't even be in a VIP event. I blinked once, and she was gone. Just gone.

How did she get here? Was she connected to an upper head?

Weird.

I reached into my purse for my phone to call Lara and check on Ashley. But before I could dial, someone slammed into me.

My phone flew from my hand, clattering across the floor and then came the sound of glass shattering.

I looked up and saw Ivy. Her lips curved in a mocking smile.

"What the hell, Ivy?" I said, my voice shaking.

She crossed her arms. "Oops. Didn't see you there. Or maybe I just didn't care."

My stomach tightened. "You broke my phone!"

Her smirk widened. "Maybe now you'll stop begging him to replace it for you. I know your type, Taylor, always waiting for a man to fix your problems."

The words sliced deeper than I wanted to admit.

"You really think I need Devon for that?" I stepped closer, forcing her to meet my gaze. "You think breaking my phone makes you powerful?"

Her face twitched, but she held her tone steady. "I think it makes me smart. Maybe he'll finally see you for the desperate leech you are."

Rage bubbled inside me. My fists trembled at my sides. I've never talked to her until now and she was still the same brat three years ago.

"You're so insecure it's almost sad," I hissed. "If you think destroying a hundred-dollar phone will make him love you, you're already losing."

Her jaw flexed, but before she could reply, a waiter stumbled past us, and a splash of red wine spilled across my chest.

" You bitch! " I yelled.

And with that, she pushed me into a dinner table.

In an instant, flames of the red candle reached the edge of a curtain where it had tipped. Panic rippled through the hall as people screamed and rushed backward.

"Shit!" someone yelled.

Pain shot into my leg. I looked down, a jagged piece of glass had sliced into my foot.

My breath came in short, panicked bursts.

Then a familiar voice roared, "Taylor!"

Devon appeared out of the chaos, shoving through the crowd. His eyes found mine, and for a second, the world blurred.

He dropped to his knees beside me, his hand brushing the cut on my leg. "You're bleeding. Damn it..."

"It's fine," I whispered, even though my voice trembled.

"No, it's not." His arms slid under me before I could protest.

"Devon..."

"Shut up," he muttered, pulling me against his chest as if I weighed nothing as he scooped me into his hands.

I gasped, clutching his shirt. "Devon...put me down! Everyone's watching.."

"Let them," he said darkly, his breath brushing my ear. "I'm not letting you collapse in front of them."

As he carried me outside into the night air, the fire alarms wailed behind us. My heart hammered against his.

And all I could think was.. no matter how much I hated him, I still felt safe in his arms.