THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 11
The silence behind the door was a living thing, thick and suffocating. Scar’s pleas had dwindled into ragged breaths, his forehead pressed against the cool wood, his powerful frame slumped in defeat. The raw vulnerability he’d shown – the begging, the panic – had scraped him hollow. He’d faced down armies, orchestrated empires built on fear, yet here he was, brought to his knees by the silence of one woman. The image of Jessica hearing Amanda’s vicious poison, the thought of her believing even a fraction of it, was a physical wound in his chest.
Then, a sound. Faint. A scrape of metal. The softest click.
Scar froze, his breath catching. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the heavy bedroom door inched open.
Jessica stood there, backlit by the dim light filtering through the curtains. The sight tore through Scar like shrapnel. Her eyes, usually bright with intelligence or warm with affection, were swollen almost shut, raw and red-rimmed from hours of crying. Tear tracks had carved paths through the faint flush of humiliation still staining her cheeks. Her posture was defeated, shoulders slumped inward as if trying to make herself disappear. She looked impossibly young, fragile, and utterly broken. The vibrant, determined woman he loved seemed reduced to a ghost of herself.
"Jessica..." The name was a choked whisper.
Before he could say more, she flinched, taking a half-step back into the room’s shadows. The movement, the sheer *hurt* radiating from her, shattered the last remnants of his control. He surged forward, not with force, but with a desperate, aching need. He crossed the threshold and gathered her into his arms, pulling her fragile form against his chest with infinite gentleness, as if she were spun glass.
She was stiff at first, unyielding. But as his arms closed around her, as the familiar scent and solid warmth of him enveloped her, a tremor ran through her. Then another. A choked sob escaped her lips, muffled against his shirt.
"Baby,"
Scar murmured, his voice thick with remorse, his own eyes burning.
He buried his face in her hair, breathing her in, anchoring himself.
"I’m sorry. God, Jessica, I am so, so sorry."
His arms tightened, a protective cag.e
. "I should have told you. Everything. About her, about the past, about the ****** engagement
that meant nothing*
." His voice cracked.
"I was a coward. I thought… I thought if I buried it deep enough
, it would just go away.
I never imagined… I never dreamed she’d come here, that she’d…" He couldn’t even bring himself to repeat Amanda’s words.
"I’m sorry you found out like this. I’m sorry she hurt you. Please… please forgive me."
Jessica pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. Her tear-filled eyes searched his face, filled with a pain that mirrored his own.
"Why,
Scar?" Her voice was a raw whisper, scraped thin by tears and despair
. "Why didn't you tell me? I… I thought you loved me. I thought you trusted me."
A fresh wave of tears spilled over.
"She… she humiliated me. Called me… called me horrible things. Names I… I heard in the slums."
Her breath hitched.
"And maybe… maybe she's right? Maybe I am just a… a home wrecker?
Coming between destiny?" Her voice broke completely. "Just… just let me go, Scar. Please. Stay away from me. It’s better… it’s better this way."
"The words"
‘let me go’
were ice water down his spine. Panic, colder and sharper than any battlefield fear, seized him. His hands tightened on her arms, not to hurt, but to anchor, to keep her from vanishing.
"No!"
The word was a low roar, laced with desperation.
"You go *nowhere*, Jessica! Do you understand? *Nowhere!*"
He forced his voice down, trying to sound rational through the terror.
"It’s not safe.
Not out there alone. My enemies… they watch. They’d grab you the second you stepped foot outside unprotected.
Please, baby."
He cupped her face, his thumbs wiping away her tears, his eyes pleading.
"Listen to me. I broke it off with her five years ago. It was *over*. Finished. She was toxic, dangerous… *insane*. That’s why I sent her away. To protect people *from* her."
Jessica searched his eyes, the turmoil within her warring with the undeniable love and fear she saw reflected back.
"Then… then why is she here?" she whispered, a fresh tremor in her voice.
Scar took a deep, steadying breath.
"She’s… manipulative. She twisted things, lied, to get back. But she won’t stay. She *can’t* stay." His voice firmed with conviction. "She’ll be gone. Soon. A few days, maybe less. Her father… he’ll come for her. He knows the deal. He knows what happens if she stays." He leaned his forehead against hers, his voice dropping to an intense, intimate murmur.
"Please, baby. Please trust me, just a little longer. I love you. More than anything. More than this empire, more than my own life. You are my destiny. Not her. Never her." He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her tear-stained cheeks, each touch a fervent vow. "Everything… everything will be alright. I swear it. I’ll make it alright."
For a moment, the world contracted to just the two of them in the dim room. Jessica leaned into him, a fragile hope battling the deep-seated hurt. His words, his touch, the raw sincerity in his eyes, were a balm on her wounded spirit. She started to nod, a tiny, hesitant movement, her fingers tightening slightly on his shirt.
Then, the spell shattered.
A sound like shattering crystal – cold, sharp laughter – echoed from the doorway. Amanda stood there, leaning casually against the frame, impeccably dressed now in tailored slacks and a silk blouse, her blonde curls perfect. She was slowly clapping her hands, a cruel, mocking smile twisting her beautiful face.
"What a touching performance,"
she drawled, her voice dripping with venomous amusement.
"Really, Sebastian,
you should be on stage. The reformed villain, the devoted lover… it’s almost believable." She pushed off the doorframe and took a step into the room, her dark eyes fixed on Jessica with predatory glee.
"News flash, darling," she spat the word at Scar, "I’m not packing my bags. I’m not going anywhere.
Did you really think I’d sit quietly in Italy while this… this gutter rat" her voice rose, sharp and hateful on the slur, "takes my place? Takes what’s mine? Scar, never—"
The crack of the slap echoed like a gunshot in the sudden, shocked silence.
Amanda’s head snapped sideways with brutal force. The mocking smile vanished, replaced by utter, stunned disbelief. A vivid red handprint bloomed across her flawless cheek. She staggered back a step, her hand flying to her face, her eyes wide with shock and dawning rage. Silence, thick and heavy, descended. Jessica gasped, frozen.
Scar stood rigid, his hand still raised, his face a mask of cold, terrifying fury. Every ounce of the feared underworld king was present in that moment, radiating lethal intent. His voice, when it came, was dangerously low, quieter than a whisper yet carrying the weight of absolute command.
"How *dare* you," he breathed,
the words slicing through the air like shards of ice.
"How dare you call my woman that filth. In my presence. In *her* home."
He took a single, deliberate step towards Amanda, who shrank back, genuine fear flickering in her eyes for the first time.
"You have exactly until tomorrow mor
ning," Scar continued, his voice gaining volume, becoming a thunderous roar that seemed to shake the room, "to be OUT of my house. Out of my city. Out of my *life*. Do you understand me? GONE!"
Amanda recovered slightly, her shock morphing into indignant fury. Her hand dropped from her cheek. "But… but Sebastian! Did you just slap me? Because of this… this dirt?!" Her voice rose hysterically.
Scar moved faster than thought. In a blur, his hand dipped beneath his jacket and came up holding a sleek, black pistol. He leveled it directly between Amanda’s wide, terrified eyes. The metallic *click* of the safety disengaging was obscenely loud.
"One. More. Word. "Scar’s voice was glacial, devoid of all emotion except lethal promise. His finger tightened on the trigger.
"One more insult. One more syllable out of your poisonous mouth. And I swear on everything I am, I *will* put a bullet in your head. Right here. Right now."
Amanda froze, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream, all color draining from her face. The raw, homicidal intent in Scar’s eyes was undeniable. He wasn't bluffing.
The standoff lasted only a heartbeat, but it felt like an eternity. Then, a choked cry broke the tension. Jessica, unable to bear the violence, the gun, the terrifying look on Scar’s face, the palpable hatred radiating from Amanda, turned and fled. She darted past Scar, past the frozen Amanda, and ran out of the bedroom door, down the hallway towards the stairs, desperate for air, for escape, for anywhere but this suffocating nightmare.
Scar’s head snapped towards her fleeing figure, the gun still trained on Amanda. "JESSICA!" he roared, the fury in his voice instantly replaced by panic. The woman he’d just sworn to protect was running headlong into the unknown, and the most dangerous threat was still standing in his bedroom, a gun pointed at her face. The sanctuary was shattered, and chaos reigned.
TO BE CONTINUED...