Chapter 141: Devil in disguise

NOAH

The penthouse was a tomb of glass and marble, suspended high above the city like a god’s viewing platform. Below, the lights of Barcelona flickered in the Mediterranean damp, but up here, everything was climate-controlled, scentless, and terrifyingly still.

I sat on the edge of a white leather sofa that cost more than my college tuition. I wasn’t tied up. My hands were free, resting on my knees, but the two guards flanking the heavy mahogany doors made the lack of restraints feel like a cruel joke. I was trapped by the sheer weight of Alex Hendrix’s presence.

Across from me, Alex stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the night. He was on the phone, his voice a low, melodic hum that vibrated through the room. I couldn’t hear the other side of the call, but as he spoke, my heart began to hammer a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

“Cassian,” Alex said, his tone dripping with a smooth, almost pitying amusement. “What a surprise. I thought you’d be… occupied this evening.”

A cold jolt went through me. Cassian. He was looking for me.

Alex laughed, a soft, charming sound that made my skin crawl. “Noah? Why would I know where Noah is? Isn’t he your… well, whatever he is to you?”

He paused, listening, his smile widening until it looked like a wound. “Fine. Yes, Noah and I are together. We’re having a little *fun* here, Cassian. He doesn’t want to be with you. He’s tired of your moods and your secrets. He doesn’t want you disturbing him.”

The finality In his voice was chilling. “So leave us alone, Cassian. Enjoy the rest of your night. You’ve already lost.”

He tapped the screen, ending the call, and casually tossed the phone onto the coffee table.

It skittered across the glass and fell to the floor next to my broken phone. I knew then that I was invisible.

Cassian didn’t know where this penthouse was. No one did and my link to the outside world was a piece of broken glass and plastic lying near Alex’s feet.

Alex didn’t turn around immediately. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver case, and lit a cigarette. He took a long, slow drag, his shoulders relaxing as he exhaled a plume of gray smoke into the pristine air.

My mind flickered back to the hallway outside the ballroom. When Alex had found me and Maya, I had expected a detonation. I had expected the screaming, the violence, the raw rage I’d heard through the door. But the moment the door had opened, Alex had transformed.

The monster had vanished. The man who had beaten a guard to a bloody pulp was replaced by the “Angel.”

He had been eerily calm, his voice gentle as he told the guards to “take care” of Maya. He had looked at me with those warm eyes, promising me that everything was okay, that I was just confused.

Seeing that warmth now, knowing what lay beneath it, was a thousand times more terrifying than a punch to the jaw would have been.

The charm wasn’t just a personality trait; It was a weaponized performance. It was a mask he had worn so long it had become his skin, and I had fallen for every shimmering second of it.

Maya was gone. They had dragged her in the opposite direction, her screams muffled by a heavy hand. I hadn’t seen her since.

“Where is Maya?” I broke the silence. My voice was shaking, a thin, brittle sound that seemed to die before it reached the high ceilings. “What are you going to do to her?”

Alex turned slowly, the cigarette held elegantly between two fingers. He looked at me with a warm, fond smile, the kind of look a father might give a child who had asked a particularly cute question.

“Maya?” He let out a slight, musical laugh. “She’s just a tiny problem, Noah. A little glitch in the machinery.”

The casualness of it made my stomach drop. A “tiny problem.” In the vocabulary of men like Alex Hendrix, “handling a problem” only had one meaning.

“Let her go,” I said, my voice rising with a desperate, frantic strength. “Please. Just… take me instead. I’ll stay here. I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll sign whatever you want. Just let her walk away.”

Alex stared at me for a beat, then he began to laugh. It wasn’t a cruel laugh… not exactly. It was genuine amusement. He looked at me as if I were the most precious, idiotic thing he had ever seen.

“Oh, Noah,” he sighed, stepping toward me. “You’re so cute. And a little bit dumb, aren’t you?”

He sat on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of me, leaning in until I could smell the expensive tobacco and the hint of mint on his breath.

“You seem to think you have something to offer me, sweetheart. You seem to think this is a negotiation.” His smile widened, but his eyes remained as cold as the marble floor.

“It’s not. I already have you. And Maya? Maya has evidence that could destroy three decades of Hendrix legacy. Recordings, testimony, names. She can’t be allowed to walk free. It’s just business.”

I stared at him, my vision blurring. This person sitting inches from me was a stranger. He wasn’t the man who had bought me a suit. He wasn’t the man who had looked at me with such “vulnerability” on the dance floor.

“Have you always been like this?” I whispered. My throat felt like it was filled with sand. “This… psychopath?”

The word hung in the air, sharp and ugly.

Alex’s expression shifted instantly. He pressed a hand to his chest, his brow furrowing in a look of mock woundedness. “Psychopath? Noah, you hurt my feelings. Truly. Why would you call me such a terrible thing after everything I’ve done for you?”

The cutesy act made my skin crawl. It was infuriating because I could still see the traces of the man I’d trusted in the tilt of his head, in the soft pout of his lips.

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