Chapter 5 I want him

"Wow, this is completely unbelievable. Who is he? Who is this mysterious man who finally caught my sweet girl's eye? Huh?" Camili was virtually salivating with excitement, leaning so far across the small coffee table that her elegant bracelets clinked loudly against her glass.

Evie looked down, a tight, faint smile pulling at her lips. The painful contrast between Camili's bright, unburdened world and the heavy, terrifying reality settling into her own chest felt wider than ever.

"All I know is his surname. Malakor."

Evie replied softly, keeping her voice completely steady through sheer force of will. She got the name when he was murdering that man

Camili’s dramatic pout lasted for all of a second before her face lit up with intense, unyielding curiosity.

"Malakor? Heavens, that sounds incredibly dark and intense. Where on earth did you even cross paths with a guy like that?"

Evie took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink, using the brief silence to construct her lie.

She couldn't tell her best friend about the bloody, supernatural violence she had witnessed in the shadows of that concrete garage, nor could she ever admit to the outrageous, desperate offer she had made to the brutal murderer.

"I saw him in the secure parking garage of that luxury high-rise apartment building last night," Evie murmured.

Her mind traitorously flashed back to the memory of him—those devastatingly sharp, aristocratic features and those dead, storm-gray eyes that felt completely devoid of human warmth.

"He was… strikingly handsome. Unearthly, almost. I wondered if he was a reclusive billionaire or a model, but a face like his would be all over the media. You would have definitely known about him."

"Wow, now I am absolutely dying of curiosity," Camili gasped, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and delight. "Evie, this is literally the first time in the entire history of our friendship that you have ever praised a man's looks. You know that, right?"

"Oh. Is it?" Evie tried to laugh it off, but a quiet ache throbbed in her chest.

"Hello! You have never cared about men before! You don't even look at them!" Camili threw her hands up in dramatic amusement before leaning back in, her gaze narrowing with a playful, protective focus.

"Okay, so what's the grand plan? What are you going to do about this impossibly handsome Mr. Malakor?"

Evie looked down at her hands, her fingers tracing the cold condensation on the outside of her glass.

A familiar, frightening flutter rhythmically tapped against her ribs—a brutal reminder that her terminal heart was failing.

Her twelve-month clock was ticking down to zero, loud and unforgiving in the silence of her mind.

She didn't have years to play games.

She didn't have the luxury of a slow, innocent courtship.

While her best friend waited with bated breath, Evie finally looked up, her hazel eyes completely serious, burning with a raw, desperate determination.

"I…" Evie started, her throat tight with an emotion she couldn't dare show. "I want him to be my boyfriend."

For a long moment, Camili just gaped at her, looking as though her brain had completely short-circuited from the sheer shock of the statement.

But the moment the surprise passed, a massive, brilliant smile stretched across her face, radiating pure affection.

"Okay! That is my girl!" Camili cheered, reaching across the table to squeeze Evie's hand. "You are finally taking my advice! My innocent, logic-brained little lamb has finally learned how to be daring!"

Camili looked incredibly proud, her eyes shining with the triumphant energy of someone watching their dearest friend finally step out of her shell.

But the warmth of Camili's hand only made Evie feel a cold wave of guilt.

If only you knew why I'm being daring, she thought bitterly.

"Camili, I need to make a flawless impression when I see him next," Evie said, gently sliding her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose, using her plain disguise as a shield. "So, I wanted to ask you to—"

"Darling, say less. Leave it entirely to me," Camili interrupted with a fierce, authoritative nod, her protective instincts instantly kicking into high gear. "I promise to dress you up and turn you into the most breathtaking, stunning woman on the face of this earth. No man stands a chance against you. Especially not this Malakor guy."

After finalizing their conversation, Evie told Camili that she would contact her the moment she decided to set up the meeting.

Camili immediately offered to step in and help orchestrate an introduction, but Evie gently shook her head.

She firmly told her friend that this was a negotiation she had to handle entirely on her own terms—which, predictably, only made Camili beam with renewed pride.

"Alright, just call me the second you need a wingwoman, okay? And don't give your outfit another thought. I will make sure this mysterious billionaire falls hopelessly in love with you at first sight," Camili promised fiercely before the two of them finally parted ways.

Walking out into the cool evening air, a profound sense of isolation wrapped around Evie.

She couldn't bring herself to tell her best friend the truth: that she wasn't trying to make Malakor fall for her at all.

In fact, a man who possessed the capacity for love was entirely useless to her terminal bucket list.

She needed someone heartless.

She had deliberately omitted every dark, terrifying detail about the murderer.

She hadn't mentioned that his physical touch was as unnaturally cold as a winter grave, or that he had cruelly rejected her.

Most of all, she hadn't told Camili just how dangerous he truly was.

Evie knew with absolute certainty that if Camili ever uncovered the monstrous truth about the man she had chosen, she would panic.

She would do everything in her power to stop it.

Camili had always been fiercely protective of her.

Evie could easily foresee the terror and intervention that would follow if anyone discovered she was willingly stepping into the territory of a ruthless, heartless monster.

But desperation left no room for fear, and her fading life left no room for safety.

The city skyline was already cast in ink and glittering neon by the time Evie finally pulled her car up to her family's estate.

Stepping through the front door, the overwhelming warmth and familiar, savory scent of dinner hit her.

Her family was waiting for her in the living room, their faces lighting up the moment she walked in.

Looking at them, a bittersweet ache tightened her throat.

Every peaceful dinner, every shared smile, was a precious memory she was desperately cataloging before her time ran out.

She forced herself to smile, swallowing down the heavy grief, and sat down to eat with them.

Once she safely retreated to the privacy of her bedroom, Evie locked the door behind her.

The heavy silence of the room closed in.

Slowly, almost single-mindedly, she approached her desk drawer and pulled out the heavy, dark cardstock note that Elias had slipped into her hand.

She stared at the elegant ink, her heart hammering against her ribs—not just from her defect, but from the terrifying magnitude of what she was about to do.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling slightly, she pulled up the keypad on her phone and slowly, meticulously typed in the number.

There was no turning back.

She was running straight into the devil's arms.