Chapter 693:
The man’s smile deepened, a hint of mischief flickering across his face. “Because I want you to become my woman,” he said without hesitation.
Christina rolled her eyes in disgust. “You need professional help, preferably fast, before your condition gets worse.”
But he only laughed, clearly unfazed by the insult. “You’re the only cure for the madness in my heart,” he said with a teasing glint in his eye.
“Then allow me to clarify—” her voice dropped, icy and sharp. “You’re incurable. Lost beyond redemption.”
His grin didn’t falter. “I’m sure I’ll get my cure eventually,” he said, certain he would make her his woman.
“Then we’ll see about that.” Christina aimed the pistol at him and tilted her head. “Step aside.”
He gave a small nod and moved exactly where she directed, still watching her with that maddening smile.
Christina shifted with precision, her weapon steady and trained on him the entire time. Her back was nearly against the door now. He watched her closely, like a predator savoring every second.
Her hand reached behind for the doorknob. In that instant, something sharp sliced through the air.
Her instincts kicked in, and she ducked. A dart struck the door with a dull thud, embedding itself precisely where her head had been a second earlier.
Had she hesitated for even a second, it would have pierced her skull.
“That is my girl,” the man said softly, smiling with twisted pride.
Christina kept her expression unreadable as she yanked the dart from the door. Without hesitation, she hurled it at him with deadly precision. The air seemed to split as it flew, swift and sharp, humming with rage.
The man saw it coming and, almost leisurely, grabbed a wooden board, lifting it just in time. The dart slammed into it, right where his heart would have been.
“Perfect aim, as always,” he drawled, a crooked grin stretching across his face. “Straight into my heart, darling.”
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Slowly, he pulled the dart free and brought it close to his nose, closing his eyes as if savoring the scent. “Everything you touch carries a trace of you. I swear, it’s intoxicating,” he murmured, his voice thick with lazy pleasure.
Christina’s brows furrowed tightly, disgust flickering in her eyes. Good looks aside, the man standing before her was clearly unhinged. There was no denying it anymore.
“Shut it,” she snapped, her voice cold and sharp like shattered glass.
Unfazed, he smiled even wider. “Darling, your man’s name is Terrence Branson. Keep that in mind,” he said, dragging out his own name with mocking confidence, each syllable dripping with possessiveness.
Christina tilted her head, a mocking smile playing at her lips. “My man?”
“Yep. Because no one else belongs at your side except me,” Terrence replied, his voice laced with conviction and madness. The intensity in his sapphire eyes burned without restraint.
Christina didn’t look away. Instead, she stepped closer, every word she spoke wrapped in scorn. “Let me clear up that delusion of yours. My husband could be anyone. But the one person he will never be is Terrence Branson.” She let the words hang in the air, her smile icy and calm. “You’re not worthy of me. And you never will be.”
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