Chapter [X+1]: A Wish for a Price
After the others left, the house fell into a haunting silence. Not the peaceful kind. The kind that crawled under your skin and reminded you how very alone you were.
Alora stood in the center of her room, staring at the wall like it might speak to her. She had danced, nibbled snacks, even wandered into Diago's empty study and sniffed his cologne from one of the suits on the rack-don't ask. Nothing helped.
"I'm so bored," she groaned, flopping onto the bed like a dying Victorian heroine.
And then she remembered it.
The one thing that always made her heart ache and smile all at once-her diary.
She crawled to her bedside drawer and pulled it out. The leather was soft from years of use, pages crinkled at the corners. Her fingers ran along the cover before she opened it, flipping past doodles, rants, and confessions until she landed on the page titled:
"My Wish List – Things I want to experience before..."
She didn't write the rest. She never could.
Her eyes scanned the list. She whispered each one out loud.
---
1. Find a man I would love... and he wouldn't love me back.
She tapped it. Done.
Her chest tightened, but a smile tugged at her lips. At least this one she could cross off.
2. Go on a movie date.
3. Have my first kiss... under the rain.
4. Learn how to ride a horse.
5. Sleep on a terrace watching the stars-with him.
6. Experience sex.
7. Learn how to swim.
8. Go on a scary tour.
9. Make my man read me a romance novel.
She hugged the diary to her chest, the leather cool against her skin.
"At least... I might still get the rest," she whispered to herself. "Before it's too late."
She flipped to the back and began reading her favorite romance novel-the one where the girl tames a mafia king who never believed in love.
Eventually, the pages blurred. Sleep claimed her.
---
Nightfall.
The door creaked.
Heavy, calculated steps entered the room. A tall figure, dressed in black, his presence colder than winter and darker than the shadows.
Diago.
He closed the door silently behind him. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, moved straight to the bed.
There she was.
A soft breath left her lips. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks. The diary was clutched against her chest, her body curled like a cat around it.
He walked closer, each step weighed with something he couldn't name.
Why did he come here?
He didn't even know.
He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her.
Something about her vulnerability stabbed at him. Something about the way she clung to that old book made his chest tight.
He reached forward, brushing a curl away from her face. Her skin was warm, soft-too soft for someone who had been through so much.
Then he said her name in that deep, magnetic voice of his.
"Kitten."
She stirred, brow twitching.
He leaned in, brushing his knuckles down her cheek.
"Kitten."
Her eyes fluttered open, slow and sleepy. When she saw him, her entire face lit up.
"Diago!" she gasped, launching herself into his arms without hesitation. "I missed you so, so much! I was dying of boredom."
She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
Diago stiffened instantly.
He wasn't used to affection-especially not... that.
She pulled back, confused. "Diago? Are you okay?"
He cleared his throat. "We need to talk."
She pouted. "You're not cancelling the contract again, are you? Because if you are-I swear, I'll hide all your guns."
He exhaled deeply. "God, do you ever stop talking?"
She grinned. "Nope."
"Then stop for a second. And listen."
She quieted, crossing her legs on the bed, attention locked on him.
"We never talked about the payment for the contract," he said. "So tell me... how much do you want?"
Her expression didn't change.
"I don't want money."
He stared at her like she had grown a second head.
"...You don't want money?"
She shook her head.
"Then what the hell do you want?"
She leaned over, grabbed her diary, and handed it to him. "This."
He took it cautiously, flipping open to the list. He read it once.
Then again.
His brows lifted. "This... is your demand?"
"Mmhmm."
He stared at her like she was both the most ridiculous and most fascinating thing he had ever seen. "A first kiss in the rain? A scary tour? You want me to read you a romance novel?"
She nodded eagerly, eyes full of light. "It's my wish list. Things I always wanted to do... and if I'm stuck with you for a while, I might as well make use of the time."
He shook his head. "You don't fail to amuse me."
"Is that a yes?"
"...Yes. Fine. We'll do it."
She screamed. Not a loud, dramatic scream-an excited, high-pitched one, like a little girl on Christmas morning.
She jumped off the bed, spun in a circle, then leaped onto him, arms wrapping around his neck.
"You're the best!"
He was stunned. Again.
Her warmth against him. Her joy. It melted some part of him he didn't even realize was frozen.
"Okay! So when do we start? Tomorrow? Please say tomorrow!"
He groaned. "Kitten, we have time-"
"No, no, no, no. Tomorrow. Please!"
He rubbed his face. "Fine. Tomorrow."
She kissed his cheek again. "Yay!"
He stood to leave, still confused, still unsettled. But before he reached the door, he stopped.
Without turning around, he said:
"...Kitten?"
"Yes?"
"Don't fall in love with me."
Then he walked out, shutting the door behind him.
Silence returned.
Alora stared at the closed door, heartbeat racing.
Then she whispered to the shadows:
"Too late..."
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