Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Rosalind's POV

"Stop right there!"

Holden grabs my wrist, fury burning in his eyes.

"Rosalind, you think this is some kind of joke? There are hundreds of people out there. Politicians, CEOs, every big name in the city. And you're telling me you want to call off the wedding?"

I stare at his hand on my wrist. "Let go."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Holden lowers his voice to a threatening whisper. "Rosalind, don't forget your mom's still in the ICU. You walk out that door, I'll cut off her treatment. Right now."

My heart twists.

In my past life, he used my mom's life to control me. Over and over, forcing me to apologize to Marlowe, forcing me to take it all.

And in the end? They killed her anyway.

This time, I won't let him threaten me.

I give him a cold smile. "Holden, is that really all you've got? Threatening me with my mom?"

Something in my eyes makes him flinch.

That's when Marlowe slides up to him, tears pooling in her eyes as she clutches his sleeve.

"Holden, don't be mad at Rosie. This is my fault. I must've upset her." She turns to me, voice trembling. "Rosie, I'm so sorry. If you'll just go through with the wedding, I'll leave. I promise you'll never see me again, okay?"

She looks pitiful, tears streaming down her face. That strange, sweet scent rolls off her in waves.

The succubus aphrodisiac.

Holden's eyes glaze over. He pulls Marlowe behind him and glares at me. "Rosalind, look how understanding Mar is! Why can't you be half as reasonable as her?"

"Sure." I smile and nod.

Holden frowns, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily.

"I'll go to the other dressing room. Cool off, fix my makeup." I pull my wrist free and turn to leave.

As I walk out, I catch the flash of triumph in Marlowe's eyes.

I know she won't be able to help herself. Her succubus instincts, this high-stakes moment, the thrill of it all. She'll go after Holden the second I'm gone.

But I don't go to the dressing room. I head straight for the reception hall, toward the front table where Holden's parents sit.

The Kingsleys are East Coast old money. All about tradition and reputation.

I walk up to them, my eyes red, my voice shaking. "Mr. Kingsley, Mrs. Kingsley..."

"Rosalind? What on earth are you wearing? The ceremony's about to start!" Mrs. Kingsley's face darkens when she sees me.

I bite my lip. "Holden... he's in the VIP lounge on the second floor. He said something about a problem. I didn't know what to do, so I came to find you."

Mrs. Kingsley's expression goes ice cold.

"That little bastard! Today of all days, what kind of trouble could he possibly get into?" Mr. Kingsley slams his hand on the table and stands.

"Let's go. I want to see what the hell he's doing!"

I keep my head down as I follow them, a cold smile on my lips.

The door to the VIP lounge on the second floor sits slightly ajar.

Before we even get close, sounds drift out. Soft moans.

"Holden... stop... Rosie's right next door..."

"Forget her. That crazy bitch has nothing on you..."

Mrs. Kingsley goes pale. Mr. Kingsley starts shaking with rage.

He kicks the door open.

The scene inside is obscene.

Holden's suit jacket lies crumpled on the floor, his shirt half unbuttoned. Marlowe's bridesmaid dress is unzipped to her waist, and she's wrapped around him like a snake.

"You son of a bitch!"

Mr. Kingsley storms in and slaps Holden hard across the face.

The crack echoes through the room.

Holden snaps out of it, the haze clearing from his eyes. Pure terror takes its place.

"Dad! Mom! What are you..."

Mrs. Kingsley rushes forward, grabs Marlowe by the hair, and slaps her hard across the face.

"You think you can seduce my son at a Kingsley wedding?!"

Marlowe crashes to the floor, clutching her face, screaming. She scrambles backward and throws herself behind Holden, clinging to his legs.

"Holden, help me... I didn't mean to, I couldn't control myself..."

Even now, she's still using her powers.

Holden looks at Marlowe's swollen face, her pitiful expression, and somehow, impossibly, he pulls her into his arms.

"Mom! Why'd you hit her? This has nothing to do with Mar!"

I stand in the doorway, watching this circus.

Marlowe curls into Holden's chest, sobbing like a victim. And Holden, like some blind knight, holds the demon in his arms, refusing to let go.