Chapter 6 Fate has a cruel Sense of humor
Evie typed the digit sequence into her phone, saving the contact under the name Elias.
She stared blankly at the screen, a cursor blinking mockingly against the black interface. She desperately wanted to send him a message, to set her contract into motion, but she had no idea what to even say.
Should she shamelessly ask for Malakor’s address?
No, that crossed the line into entirely unhinged.
But if she didn't ask, how on earth was she supposed to ever cross paths with him again?
Before she could form a cohesive strategy, exhaustion claimed her. The heavy toll of her failing heart pulled her under, and she drifted into a deep sleep without achieving her goal for the night.
In the end, Elias didn't receive a single message.
The next morning, Evie woke up early out of sheer routine. After sharing a quiet breakfast with her family, she slid behind the wheel of her car and drove back into the city.
She spent a surprisingly pleasant morning at the Oakridge Veterinary Centre. Tending to the vulnerable, recovering animals always provided a much-needed sanctuary. For a few hours, the rhythmic task of checking vitals and comforting frightened pets recharged her, filling her chest with a fleeting sense of peace.
When her afternoon shift wrapped up, Evie immediately got into her car and headed back out toward the estate. She wanted to get home early.
Yet, even though the busyness of the clinic had temporarily pushed her plan aside, she couldn't entirely shake him.
That mystifying, outrageously gorgeous face—those dead, storm-gray eyes belonging to Malakor—traitorously popped into her thoughts at every quiet interval.
It was deeply unsettling.
Despite her rigid logic, her mind refused to let him go.
As she drove further out of the metropolis, winter had firmly taken hold, leaving a slick, translucent layer of black ice across the asphalt.
Evie intentionally slowed her pace.
Their family estate was situated well outside the city limits, a solid hour’s drive from the veterinary centre. Her grandparents valued their peace; they had wanted a quiet, secluded refuge far removed from the ceaseless, rumbling machinery of the city, which was precisely why they had settled near the edge of the protected national forest.
At this hour, the winding road was completely desolate.
The route cut directly through a dense, heavily forested area, surrounded on both sides by a towering canopy of ancient, frost-dusted trees.
The icy conditions were undeniably treacherous, but Evie was thoroughly accustomed to the terrain and pridefully considered herself a meticulous driver.
She kept her speedometer low, carefully navigating the empty curves.
As she pulled onto a long, straight stretch of road slicing through the thick timber, she accelerated just a fraction.
Out of nowhere, a massive deer burst from the tree line, bounding directly into her headlights.
Evie’s instincts slammed her foot against the brake pedal, but her heart violently seized—she had reacted too late.
She was going to hit it.
Before her brain could even register the impact, her tires wailed against the black ice.
She violently swerved, the vehicle sliding sideways.
By some miracle, she missed the deer by a hair’s breadth.
But in the very next heartbeat, a sickening, deafening crunch echoed through the woods.
Her car had violently collided with another vehicle.
The car she struck screeched sharply to the right, sliding completely off the slick asphalt before coming to a brutal halt against a massive oak tree by the roadside.
Evie's own car finally shuddered to a stop.
Thanks to her seatbelt locking tightly against her chest, she was entirely unharmed.
She didn't have a single scratch.
Evie exhaled a ragged, trembling breath.
Her pulse was hammering frantically against her ribs, her hands shaking so violently she could barely unclip her seatbelt.
Forcing her clinical logic to take over, her immediate thought flew to whoever was inside the other vehicle.
When she looked through her shattered side window and saw the dark silhouette resting against the tree, terror gripped her.
Oh my God. Are they alive?
She didn't waste another second.
Pushing her door open, she scrambled out into the freezing air, frantically rushing over the ice toward the dark car, praying to whatever higher power was listening that the occupants were safe.
As she neared the scene, the driver’s side door clicked open.
A man in his late fifties stepped out into the snow.
He adjusted his coat, appearing entirely uninjured.
Thank God.
He was dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, his posture so rigid and formal he looked exactly like an aristocratic butler stepping out of a television drama.
"Are you alright? I am so, so incredibly sorry," Evie panted, her voice laced with panic as she approached him. "A deer ran right out in front of me, and I lost traction trying to avoid it."
She knew she was facing a logistical and financial nightmare, but checking for injuries came first.
The older man simply let out a controlled, heavy sigh, his brows knitting together as he evaluated the crumpled front bumper.
Evie’s panic slightly de-escalated when she noticed how strangely unfazed he seemed.
He wasn't yelling.
He wasn't even frantic.
Curiously, she followed his line of sight to examine the damage herself.
The moment her eyes cataloged the vehicle’s elite, aerodynamic contours, her jaw dropped flat.
Resting against the oak tree was a sleek, matte-black Lamborghini.
Evie felt the blood completely drain from her face, leaving her entirely numb.
Where on earth was a volunteer veterinary assistant supposed to find the astronomical funds to pay for damages on a luxury hypercar?
Why did it have to be this car?
Out of every vehicle in the state, why this one?
Without offering her a word, the formal older man calmly walked around the smoking hood and opened the rear passenger door.
"Sir, how do you wish to proceed? The front axle is heavily compromised," the driver murmured.
Evie stepped closer, her throat tight as she prepared to face the owner.
"I am truly so sorry. The deer bolted directly into my path, and the ice—"
Suddenly, the words died in her throat.
The clinical logic of her brain completely fractured.
Framed by the luxurious interior of the vehicle, sitting motionless in the back seat, was a sharp, aristocratic silhouette.
As the man slowly turned his head toward her, the ambient winter light caught those piercing, dead storm-gray eyes.
A wave of unnaturally familiar cold seemed to radiate from the open door.
"Malakor?" Evie whispered, her voice trembling in absolute shock.
Of all the people in the world, why was it him?
What on earth was this dangerous, untouchable man doing on a secluded forest road in the middle of nowhere?
