– Idiot. And she didn't feel sorry for the cat? – I muttered thoughtfully, turning my face away from him.

Great conversation. I'm taking this jackass to a hotel to have fun with him, and he's telling me about the cat and its sobbing owner! That's nice.

– I know, it's not the best story, is it? – Adam grinned as if he'd read my thoughts. – I'm sorry.

I looked at him with interest. It suddenly struck me that Adam wasn't the kind of guy I liked to use. Was he really a nice guy? Shit.

– Yeah," I answered honestly.

– I don't go to clubs much either. I don't like all that noise. But I had a very complicated operation today. I had to stitch it up. I'm sorry, I'm going back in there again.

– Shit," I mumbled.

Yeah. That's right. He's a good bloke. That's unfortunate.

– I needed to forget that picture. At least for a little while. I love my job, but sometimes I wish it would go away," Adam said quietly.

– I understand. – I stared into his tired face. – That's why you're going to walk me back to the hotel and go home to bed.

I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't use him. He was so unlike me. Too good. Too much.

– Yeah, whatever you want. But you… Will you leave me your number? – He asked with hope in his voice.

Didn't even ask why. Why I invited him to my hotel room and now I'm saying no. Dandelion. Dove. For the first time in all my years of debauchery with mortals.

– I'm sorry. No. I just wanted to fuck you," I answered honestly. Adam grinned. I ran my index finger along his cheek. – But I can't do that to you, boy. You're a miracle. And I'm a dirty sinner.

– I don't think you are. But even if you are, it doesn't matter. I like you. I like you a lot. That's why I followed you.

His honesty only hurt me: with every word he said, he became purer, lighter, almost as pure and innocent as Misha. And I was drowning in my debauchery. The abyss of my lust. Covered in the stigmata of blasphemy.

– I'm a simple whore, Adam. And you're probably the only bright spot in my shitty life. I'll take it from here. Go home.

– No, I'll take you to the hotel. For your own safety. Don't say no.

I smiled. For my safety! He's so sweet after all!

– You're so cute. All right, then. Let's go.

We walked in silence to my hotel.

– Goodbye, Adam. Good luck with your good work. – I reached up and kissed his cheek. Lamb of God. Adam.

– Thank you for a lovely evening, Maria. If you'll allow me, I'd like to kiss your hand. – He smiled modestly and held out his hand to me. I gave him mine. His lips touched my icy skin.

– Go to the hotel. You're freezing," Adam said.

– Good night," I smiled sweetly. – And what a beautiful name you have.

– Biblical. Like yours.

We parted ways. Strangely enough, I felt good. Even though my plan had gone wrong, Adam had turned the evening into something sublime.

That said, there was only one thing I wanted to do – sink headfirst into a tub full of water and not breathe. Just lie at the bottom like a corpse. It wasn't me. It was someone else.

***

Eight zero seven. Evening.

I knew Brandon was here: the windows of my suite faced the road. His black Bentley was parked in the guest car park. As ravenous and lustrous as its owner. Brandon's a Bentley nut.

He was waiting for me at the restaurant. But I was in no hurry to show up. Let him wait like kids wait for Christmas. If Grayson wants his purchase, he'll wait as long as I deign not to show up. It's my whim. Oh, damn it. Who am I kidding? Myself? No, it's not wanting to see Brandon, talk to him, sit at the same table with him. My fear. I was scared. Being alone with him. Trying to remain cold and ironic while a fire burned in my soul, burning everything around me.

I looked in the mirror: big, perfect, even. My reflection. Perfect, too.

But no. I am not embraced by the flames burning inside me. I am calm. My lips are tighter than usual. I adjust the pearl bracelet on my left hand, run my fingers over the contours of my face. My hair lay in perfect order. So beautiful, well-groomed, shiny. Curling like sea waves. It was a waterfall, covering my narrow back with its luxury. A tight black skirt, a palm above the knee. A translucent white shirt with tapered sleeves. Three-quarter. You can see my beautiful white bra through the fabric. New, bought today, white shoes with a high thick heel. I look like a secretary. An angelic, devilishly seductive, cunningly beautiful secretary.