Filth: A Dark Romance Standalone Novella by Heat Torri

Author:Heat, Torri
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was raining. I had given up caring about the rain, really, I had, but I wanted to look semi-respectable when I met Alexander for dinner tonight. My hair was carefully curled, pinned away from my face, and the minute I stepped outside no umbrella would be able to protect it from the damp air.

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, giving my hair one last hopeless glance in the mirror.

It wasn’t lost on me that I spent more time caring about my appearance for this date than I had for my show.

But Alexander wanted me. Me. At least he thought so. I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to put on my best mask. A costume, if you will. Tonight, I would pretend to be someone with a soul. I’d paint my face and curl my hair, and play the part of a normal human.

A dress was next. Deep red, and short enough that I debated tights. It was cold enough for them. It would be smarter to wear them.

But since I was the spider drawing Alexander into my carefully woven web, tights wouldn’t do. Neither would black. The short, red dress it was, and the only pair of heels in my closet. This was a game I had played countless times before, but for some reason, it felt different this time. Like maybe there was a chance I wouldn’t win.

No. Just because this was Alexander—perfect, amazing Alexander—didn’t mean I needed to think like that. I would be fine. I just had to hope the disguise survived the walk. I slipped my coat on, grabbed my trusty umbrella, and hoped for the best as I stepped out into the dim streets.

We were meeting at an Italian restaurant midway between his place and mine. Alexander had chosen it, said it was one of his favorites. I was more than happy to let him make the arrangements. Ever the gentleman, he had requested my number at the coffee shop and called, not texted me, the next day. A phone call, listening to his honeyed voice telling me about our dinner while my hand slipped lower, dipping beneath the waistband of my pants.

I thought I would be more anxious to go on a date—a real date—with Alexander, but I wasn’t. Our time at the coffee shop had taught me I could still control the situation, if I so chose. I just needed to remember that. A part of me was still terrified to see Alexander like everyone else, with a predictable secret.

But we had gone this far. Maybe he really was perfect. At the very least, he wasn’t a Blake.

The restaurant was just up ahead, a small place filled with intimate seating and candles on the tables. Damn. Even his first date vibes were perfect.

Not wanting to be silenced, the other part of me whispered, Had he brought that woman here? The one I saw him with? Was this their first date, too? Maybe this was where he brought every woman he dated. Every woman who wasn’t me.

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