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

Juliana's pulse hammered in her chest. A quick glance at Braydon's side profile stirred up emotions she couldn't quite put into words. Trailing after him, she kept her nerves in check as they headed straight for Johnny's hangout. Their destination turned out to be a bustling bar. Confident his plan had already worked, Johnny had gathered a crowd, laughing and celebrating as if nothing could go wrong. By the time Juliana stepped in, Johnny was gripping a microphone, belting out a tune with a grin that oozed self-satisfaction. All at once, the music cut out, the speakers going dead silent while Johnny, still caught up in the song, shouted, "Who turned off the sound? Can't you see I'm onstage?" Suddenly, the whole room lit up, bright lights making Johnny squint as he threw up a hand to block the glare. He heard the unmistakable tap of approaching footsteps, each one echoing in the charged silence. As his vision adjusted, Johnny looked up—and found a man standing before him. Not just any stranger, but strikingly good-looking. Johnny sized him up, deciding at once that he must be one of the bar's hired pretty boys, the kind he couldn't stand. Fixing the man with a haughty stare, Johnny lifted his chin. "Did you need something, or are you just here to stare?" Braydon ignored him completely. Instead, he waved his hand for the room to clear, his focus shifting lazily to the doorway. "Your turn. Get up there." When Johnny followed Braydon's line of sight and spotted Juliana, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Words caught in his throat as he finally managed to ask, "Juliana? Why are you here?" She was supposed to be stuck in that hotel room by now. Doubt crept in—maybe his scheme had fallen apart again. In a frantic move, Johnny lunged, trying to drag Juliana away by the wrist. "Come with me—now!" Juliana sidestepped him and delivered a sharp kick to his shin. "You've got some nerve even looking at me, let alone touching me!" Every bit of betrayal came rushing back, fueling her anger. Johnny collapsed, clutching his leg and grimacing. He barely had a second to react before Juliana gave him another shove, sending him sprawling. "Juliana, listen! I only did it for our future... Can't you go easy on me?" She glared, her eyes shining with fury. "You think you get to talk about a future with me?" No part of her cared if she hurt him. After everything, he deserved it. When Johnny realized sweet talk would get him nowhere, his tone hardened, his eyes cold. "Stop now, Juliana, or you'll regret it!" Juliana's answer was swift—another kick, this time landing on his chest. Groaning and clutching his chest, Johnny rolled over and scrambled upright, desperate and wild-eyed. "Is this what you want, Juliana? You're pushing me too far!" He looked at her, convinced she was no threat at all. After all, in his mind, Juliana could never really fight back. Braydon flicked open a lighter, the flame briefly illuminating his playful smirk as he watched Juliana. Johnny raised his fist, ready to throw a punch, but Braydon snatched his wrist and said coldly, "Who do you think you are, touching my girl in front of me?" Johnny turned, his voice dripping with malice. "Your girl? Back off! She's mine, and I'll do what I want!" Before Johnny could even finish, a sharp crack split the air. "Ah!" A scream tore out of him. Juliana's gaze shot up, horrified to see Johnny's wrist bent at an impossible angle. It was Braydon—he'd snapped Johnny's hand without a hint of hesitation. Braydon took a drag from his cigarette, and then flicked the burning tip straight onto Johnny's cheek. "She isn't yours anymore." The ember hissed against Johnny's skin, but his pain was drowned out as Braydon shoved him aside as if he were nothing. "You've committed a crime! I'll call the cops! You're all dead!" Gasping, Johnny clutched his ruined hand, rage and panic twisting his features. With a silent nod, Braydon beckoned Juliana closer. An aide slipped him a pistol, which he promptly handed to her. "Kill him." Juliana's hand shook as she stared at the weapon. "I... I can't—" "You want him gone? Pull the trigger, and you'll never have to look over your shoulder again." Braydon pressed the gun into her palm, loading it with practiced ease. "I'll handle everything that comes after."