His reply arrives within seconds. My dear Professor must be more intrigued than I could have anticipated.
Victoria: My place.
CHAPTER 12
VICTORIA
Azrael doesn’t reply, and I don’t know if I should be infuriated or not. But I am.
He thinks he won, and unless he gets his ass here, I have no way of showing him he did not.
Luckily, he arrives exactly nine minutes later, stepping into my apartment like he’s doing me a favor by being here. How delusional of him. He is the one who couldn’t wait ten more hours to see what he was missing.
“Why so impatient, Professor? Or did you miss me already?” I ask, voice sweet like honeyed, poisonous venom.
“I want to see how far you’ll go with your lies,” he says, like it explained the rush. I must look unimpressed, because he’s quick to add, “I came because I’m curious—not impatient.”
Ah, right, sure. “Keep telling yourself that. It’ll hurt less when you lose.”
I walk to the bedroom, not looking back to see if he follows me. He wouldn’t, and I don’t care, this can work just as well with him from the kitchen. He doesn’t need to touch, only watch, and he’ll do it. That’s what people do when they think nothing couldsurprise them, they enjoy the show. He thinks he destroyed me, but he’ll soon find out I always get what I want.
“You were right,” I say, undoing the zipper on the jacket I forgot to take off.
I don’t have to turn to see the flicker of confusion in his expression.
“To strip me of the material,” I continue. “Like my clothes were armor.”
Radio silence. Nothing. Does he really not understand that he’s getting lectured? I turn to face him, but I can’t read his expression.Come on, Professor, this will be quite awkward if you don’t react.
I let the jacket fall to the ground with a muffled thud while keeping my eyes on him. “But here’s what you don’t understand.”
I drop the blouse next, the smooth fabric pooling at my feet next to the jacket.
“The clothes are mine. I chose them. To someone else, they might be a way to hide, trying to create the illusion of something they are not. But to me?”
I unhook the bra, let it fall just to prove my point. “To me, they are tools. Tools you don’t get to use against me.”
I can feel the tension spiral from his body. Finally, a reaction.
“You might think you’ve won,” I continue, pretending not to be affected by the way his eyes are burning my skin. “That I am that weak.”
The pants hit the floor, and cold air met my thighs.
“But the truth is…I can still break you,” I say, voice almost a whisper. “Just for the thrill. Just to see what sound you’d make.”
And then?—
The last layer. The one he didn’t dare to touch.
My underwear slides down my legs, a final gesture meant to echo his ritual but strip it of meaning.
“This is what you forgot, Professor.” I step free from the fabric. My voice is calm now, clearer. “I don’t want to be saved.”
Once again, naked in front of him. But this time, on my terms.
“I want to be destroyed.”
The room doesn’t shrink around me like it did at the warehouse. It expands. I’ve been waiting for this moment for far too long, and God knows I’ll make Azrael regret not doing it sooner.