The Devil's Lover: Be Mine Or Be Lost Forever

Looking down, Juliana's stomach lurched at the sheer drop below. Every instinct screamed at her to make a decision, but her grip finally gave out before she could speak. The world seemed to tilt as she slipped, weightless and powerless to stop her fall. Acceptance settled in—a sense that there was no way out after all. Her eyes shut tightly, bracing for the end. A strong hand seized hers mid-air, hauling her up with surprising ease. She landed against a chest that smelled faintly of tobacco and leather. "Well, I have to admit, letting go was a bold move," Braydon teased, a playful edge in his voice as he slid an arm securely around her waist, his gaze flickering with amusement. Despite their recent encounter, this woman didn't recognize him at all. Blinking in the aftermath, Juliana really saw him for the first time—strikingly handsome, almost ethereal, with features that seemed carved from marble and an effortless, icy confidence. His gaze lingered with a lazy spark, inviting curiosity. Every detail—from the curve of his lips to the sharpness of his jaw and the faint bob of his Adam's apple—drew her in against her will. Recognition tugged at the edge of her memory, but the link remained just out of reach. Her pulse hammered in her ears. Men who tossed out flirty remarks without hesitation were always dangerous. Determined to steady herself, Juliana slipped from his hold and took a cautious step back. "I appreciate what you did for me. I'll make sure you're repaid." Staying here wasn't an option. Sooner or later, Rocco would figure out where she had gone. She went for the door, but Braydon's cool, steady voice halted her. "You really think just running will solve your problems?" She glanced back, suspicious. "What are you getting at?" "You made quite a scene up there, you know. I could hear everything from my place." A hint of amusement flickered across his face as he drew closer. "Haven't you thought about fighting back?" Juliana eyed him warily, chewing the inside of her cheek. "Are you saying you'll help me?" Someone able to speak so confidently might actually have the power to handle Rocco—and maybe Johnny, too. Hiding wouldn't keep them away forever. One slip, and they'd track her down again. Braydon's tone turned low and persuasive. "If you want to make them disappear from your life, I can make that happen." A shout echoed from above, Rocco's voice blurting out, "She's not here! Search below!" Juliana stiffened, every muscle taut. At last, she raised her head and fixed Braydon with a searching gaze. "Suppose I agree. How exactly do you plan to help me?" Only now did she really notice the expensive details in his appearance—a suit tailored to perfection, quiet confidence in every line, a silk navy tie draped across the sofa. Recognition struck. She'd seen that tie behind glass at a luxury shop. Anyone who could casually toss aside something that costly had influence to spare. Braydon said nothing, simply pressing something cold and heavy into Juliana's palm. "Take this." Her eyes widened as she glanced down. It was a gun. Instinct made her try to pull away, but Braydon's hand covered hers, making sure the weapon stayed in her grasp. His breath was warm at her ear as he murmured, "Kill them, and you'll never have to worry about them again." Fear crept into her voice. "If I do that, I'll go down with them. That's murder..." A low, careless laugh escaped him. "You're not alone. I'll handle everything." Juliana searched his face and saw nothing but cold resolve. He wasn't bluffing. Anyone who could talk about killing so calmly was far more dangerous than she'd ever imagined. For the first time, she realized she might have crossed paths with someone truly ruthless.