I must be asking for a painful death. One where my limbs are removed from my body piece by piece and buried around random parts of Melbourne. I’m sure whoever my stalker guy is, he’s getting a thrill from me contacting him today. I must have been desperate or sleep-deprived. Lack of oxygen to the brain maybe. I don’t know. What I do know is that I’ve just spilled my deepest insecurity to a stranger.

A stranger who is obsessed with me.

I guess time will tell if I’ve just secured my spot as one of Australia’s latest statistics. I feel like I should be a lot more afraid of this man than I am. I keep remembering his voice, the way he made me come over the phone. His messages of unwavering devotion to me…

They weren’t exactly unwanted. Okay, I wanted them more than I’d like to admit. Maybe not from this man in particular. But that kind of devotion is exactly what I’ve been looking for. Just in a less “I’m going to lock you in my basement” and more in the “I’m going to make you my queen” kind of way.

I walk into the little café on campus, order my usual caramel latte, and then go and sit in one of the single armchairs. I stop here between classes because of these chairs. They are so comfy you just sink into the cushions, the seat conforming to your body. If you could sit on a cloud, this is what I imagine it would be like.

I take out my iPad and bring up the notes for my next class. It’s the one I like the least: human resource management. It’s not so much the subject topic I don’t like, but more the bullshit they try to feed to you in the lectures. I’ve been hanging out in my father’s office for as long as I can remember. I’ve seen the way he manages his employees and picked up on way more useful strategies than anything I’ve heard in the classroom.

Sometimes I wonder why I even have to complete this degree. I really would learn more from working with my father in his offices. But I wouldn’t get the respect of the staff. I mean, it’s not like they’re going to be thrilled when Xavier and I do have to take over from Dad anyway. Everyone loves him. Respects and admires him. Yes, he took over the Christianson Corporation from his father as well; however, my father brought the company to another level. He deserves all the recognition in the world.

As I’m waiting for my coffee order, I see the guy from the gym walk through the door. I forget what his name is. I do remember that he’s Hope’s cousin and I really liked her. She is the kind of person I could easily be friends with.

I stand and smile as I approach him. His eyes widen in shock and he looks over his shoulder like he’s nervous or something.

Huh, maybe he’s meeting a girl here and doesn’t want to be seen talking to me?

It’s too late to back out now though. I’ll look like a real crazy person if I turn around and sit down. “Hi… Um, I’m Lucy. We met at the gym.” I hold out my hand to shake his.

“Uh, yeah, Axel,” he says.

“You’re Hope’s cousin, right?” I ask him, not sure what else to say.

“Yep.” He nods his head.

“Do you go to school here?”

“No, I’m just visiting a cousin.”

“Oh, does Hope go here?” She looked older than university age, but who knows? She could be a post-grad student or something.

“No, a different cousin, Dom McKinley. You know him?” he asks.

“I know of him. I don’t live under a rock.” I laugh. It would be impossible to go to school here and not hear about the infamous Dominic McKinley. Although, I never really see him around that much. I spot him from a distance here and there but usually I think the guy keeps to himself. It’s more his last name that people know.

The McKinleys are one of Australia’s wealthiest families. We’ve attended the same events over the years and even then he seems to be a ghost. Not that I blame the guy—being in the one-percenter club isn’t always as great as it seems. Everyone wants something from you. It’s why I try to dress down while at school. I do my best to blend in, appear like one of the normal, everyday students. It doesn’t really work though. Like the McKinleys, the Christianson name is well known.

“Right, but you’ve never met him?” Axel asks.

“No. I try not to hang around pretentious trust fund jerks,” I blurt out and then immediately realise that I probably just insulted him… and his cousin. “Sorry, not that you guys are jerks, or…” I let my sentence trail off, because what can I honestly say after that?

“It’s okay. He is a pretentious trust fund jerk. I mean, what twenty-year-old drives around in a fucking Bentley?” Axel laughs.

Before I can respond to his good-natured banter, the barista calls out my name. “That’s me. I’ll catch you around,” I tell Axel, turning to the counter and picking up my coffee order.

Usually, I’d hang around for a bit and study while I waited for my next class, but now I just want to sit in the sun and get as far away from this awkward encounter as I can manage. So with a polite smile on my face and my coffee in my hand, I walk out of the café.

Looking to my left, I find Dominic McKinley glaring in my direction. A cold shiver runs down my spine, and despite how much I want to look away, I can’t. It’s like he’s holding me captive. His eyes are blank, kind of like what I’d expect if I came face-to-face with the devil, or a demon. Maybe he’s a vampire? That would make sense, because normal humans aren’t that perfectly packaged.

Beautiful. It’s not a word I’ve ever associated with a guy before, but that’s exactly what Dominic McKinley is. Captivatingly beautiful in a creepy, undead sort of way?

The door opens behind me, breaking my stare-off with the inhuman god in front of me. Shaking off the weird vibes, I walk away, my steps faster than they were when I first exited the café.

THE RINGING of my phone wakes me up. I immediately check the screen and groan when my mother’s name stares back at me. I can’t ignore her call. If I do, she’s just going to show up here to make sure I’m still breathing.

“Mum, you know most people wait until after nine to make calls,” I answer.

“It’s ten o’clock, Lucy. And if you don’t get up now, you’re going to be late,” she huffs.

“Late for what?” I ask.

“The dress fitting at Chanel. I sent you a message about it two days ago.”

I rack my brain, trying to recall anything about a dress fitting, and vaguely remember agreeing to something. “Okay, can you reschedule it?”

“No, the event is this Saturday, Lucy. And you need a dress, unless you plan to reuse something you already have,” she says, knowing full well I can’t do that.

It’s not that I wouldn’t wear the same outfit twice, because I would. The problem is, if I do, the paparazzi will drag me through the mud. And before I know it, they’ll make all sorts of accusations about my family having money issues. Or they’ll claim I’ve been cut off and can no longer afford to keep up appearances. It’s just not worth the headache of dealing with the rumours. So, as much as I want to say screw it and stay in bed, I remain the good little heiress and do as I’m told.

“I’m up. I’ll be there in twenty,” I tell Mum, before shoving the blankets off and hanging up the phone. I didn’t exactly sleep well last night—scratch that. I haven’t slept well all week. Every time I try, I see a pair of black lifeless eyes looking through me. I’ve searched campus for another glimpse of Dominic McKinley, but I haven’t seen him anywhere.

I was tempted to ask Hope about him—now that I know he’s her cousin. Maybe she could explain if he really is a vampire or something. But then I realised how insane that question would sound if I actually verbalised it.

I send Shar a text message, asking her to meet me for lunch today before I jump in the shower. By the time I’m drying myself off, I feel alive-ish. I throw on a pair of denim cutoffs and a white tee, pairing the outfit with my white Jimmy Choo flats. I let my hair hang in messy waves—I don’t have time to tame it—apply a nude lip gloss, and call it a day before heading down to the garage.

Checking my phone, I don’t see a reply from Shar. It’s unlike her to ghost me, so I hit call on her number and start the engine of my car. The phone rings through the speakers as I pull out on to the street.

“Lucy, why are you up so early?” Shar asks the moment she answers.

“I have to meet my mum for a dress fitting. What are you doing?”

“Trying to decide what to wear to my interview today.”

I forgot about that. “Shit, I should have come to help you get ready,” I say.

“It’s okay. You’d just make me more nervous.”

“You’ve got this. You’re the smartest person I know, Shar. If they don’t give you this job, then they’re idiots,” I tell her, because it’s true.

“Thanks, but I do have to go. I have thirty minutes before I have to be on the train.”

“Okay, call me when you’re done.” I hang up and head to the Chanel store to meet my mother. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

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