Chapter Seventeen: Need Some Help?
Ella’s POV
I entered the fitting room, my body feeling anxious and I wondered why. The dim lighting cast a soft glow on the luxurious fabric that hung delicately on the rack before me. When I reached out and unfolded the dress, I was stunned.
It was a deep, sapphire blue, the kind of shade that reminded me of the ocean at twilight–calm yet mysterious. The material felt rich beneath my fingers, and I could tell immediately that it was nearly custom-
made for me
The way the skirt flowed, the subtle sparkle of the fabric–it was designed to highlight every curve, to make me feel both elegant and powerful
I slipped into the dress, marveling at how perfectly it fit my body. It clung to my figure in all the right places, accentuating my waist, the swell of my hips, the curve of my shoulders. But as I reached behind to pull up the zipper, I realized it was just out of my reach
I twisted and turned, struggling to get a grip, but the zipper wouldn’t budge Frustration built inside me, and just as I was about to give up. I heard a soft rustle behind me
Chapter Seventeen Need Some Help
Before I could react, I felt a presence close to me–a man’s presence. My breath caught in my throat as I realized someone was in the room with me. I turned slightly, and to my shock. Keith was standing right there, his expression calm and composed as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
“Need some help?” he asked, his voice smooth, almost teasing.
I was frozen, half in disbelief and half in a strange mix of emotions that I couldn’t quite untangle. Dorian was just outside, probably still on the phone, and here was Keith, slipping into my private space as if he belonged there. Before I could protest, he stepped closer, his fingers brushing against the small of my back as he gently took hold of the
zipper
The air in the room felt charged, like static before a storm. I could feel his breath on my neck, warm and unsettling, as he slowly pulled the zipper up. His movements were deliberate, almost too slow, as if he were savoring the moment My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel the heat rising in my chocks, though I tried to keep my expression neutral.
But then his hands didn’t stop at the zipper One hand moved to my collarbone, his touch light but electric, sending a shiver down my spine. His other hand, without hesitation, slid down to cup the underside of my breast, his fingers kreading the flesh through the thin fabric of the dress My breath hitched, and for a split second, I didn’t know how to react–whether to pash him away or to stay still, caught in the whirlwind of sensations
Chapter Seventeen: Need Some Help”
“Keith.” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low. I couldn’t afford for Dorian to hear us, to discover us like this. “Stop.”
But Keith only smiled, that infuriatingly confident smile that made me want to both slap him and–God help me–kiss him. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the curve of my neck, just above the tattoo, his breath warm against my skin. “Why should I?” he whispered, his voice dripping with temptation.
Before I could answer. I heard Dorian’s voice from outside the door.
“Ella, is everything okay?”
Panic shot through me, and I slapped Keith’s hand away from my breast, turning to glare at him. He stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender, the same mischievous smile playing on his lips as if this were all a game to him.
“I’ll be ready soon,” I called back to Dorian, trying to keep my voice steady But inside, I was anything but calm. My heart was racing, my mind a chaotic mess of thoughts and emotions.
Keith watched me, his eyes dark and knowing, as if he could read every thought that was racing through my mind. The room suddenly felt too small, too intimate, with his presence overwhelming me I had to get out of there, to escape before I did something I’d regret.
Then, Dorian’s voice broke through again, more anxious this time “Ella, I just got a call–1 have to go. It’s urgent. I’m really sorry *
Chapter Seventeen. Need Some Help?
the
His words hit me like a cold wave, dousing the heated tension room. Disappointment flooded me. Even after everything I’d done, I still couldn’t keep Dorian. I tried to keep my voice from trembling as I responded, “Do you really have to go?”
Keith’s hand stilled, his playful demeanor shifting slightly as he observed me. He seemed to sense my disappointment, but he said nothing, just watched as I grappled with the realization that tonight, of all nights, I was losing Dorian to something–or someone–else.
I carefully walked out of the fitting room, my heart sinking as I saw Dorian waiting for me by the door. His expression was apologetic, but there was a tension in his eyes that told me he was already halfway out the door, even before he spoke. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, a gesture that felt more like a farewell than a promise.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear,” he murmured, his hand brushing against my cheek.
“Please, don’t go,” I begged, my voice barely above a whisper. I hated how desperate I sounded, but I couldn’t help it. “I had something special planned for tonight.”
But even as I spoke, Dorian’s phone buzzed again, and I knew it was Jessica. She had managed to pull him away, to take him from me, just as she always seemed to do, I couldn’t fight it anymore. With a final, regretful look, Dorian left, his departure a bitter reminder of how much things had changed between us. The Dorian I knew some years back wouldn’t leave that door for anything in the world. The year I
graduated, he worked his ass off an entire two weeks to get an ofl‘ day
Chapter Seventeen: Need Some Help?
to spend with me.
I stood there, feeling more alone than ever, until I heard the soft sound of footsteps behind me. Keith emerged from the fitting room, his body language calm and composed as he picked up the pair of shoes that matched my dress. He held them out to me, his eyes meeting mine in a way that slightly infuriated me.
“You should put these on,” he said quietly, almost as if nothing had happened. But there was a gleam in his eyes, something that told me he knew exactly what he was doing.
I stared at him, feeling a sudden surge of anger. I wasn’t going to let him control the situation, to dictate how I should feel or act. Without a word, I lifted my foot and placed it under his chin, tilting his head up so that he was forced to look up at me. The gesture felt powerful, almost regal, like I was a queen and he was my knight, kneeling at my
feet.
But I knew better. Keith wasn’t a knight. He was a demon, and this was all part of his game.
“You know this would happen right?” I asked, my voice cold as ice.
