Chapter 79: Maria’s Perspective
"He... got away," Maria muttered breathlessly, her chest still rising and falling from the rush of what had just transpired. She swept her gaze across the empty kitchen, confirming that Asher had indeed vanished. A sharp click of her tongue echoed through the silence. "I was just SO close... tsk."
Another frustrated click before she placed both palms flat against the edge of the wooden table she’d been leaning against. With fluid grace, she pushed herself up to sit on its surface, her legs dangling as she surveyed the room. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, but it quickly transformed into something far more dangerous—a slow, predatory grin that spread across her features.
"It’s too late though..." she whispered to the empty air, her voice carrying a honeyed threat. "You can’t escape even if you want to." Her teeth caught her lower lip, worrying it gently as anticipation coursed through her veins.
She slid down from the table with purposeful movements, gathering the abandoned plates and carrying them to the sink. The ceramic clinked as she dumped them without ceremony, her mind clearly elsewhere. Moving back to the table, she began wiping down its surface with methodical strokes, each motion deliberate and unhurried.
"Since he’s already ingested it, he won’t be able to resist me..." The words fell from her lips like a secret confession. She brought a finger to rest between her teeth, pressing gently against the smooth enamel. "I can’t wait..."
The sound that emerged from her throat was purely feline—a low purr of satisfaction as she began plotting. She could already envision it: watching him struggle against the growing need, driving him to the very edge of his control until he couldn’t fight anymore and fell willingly into her carefully woven web. Oh, how thoroughly she would claim him then, savoring every moment after months of patient waiting. There was even a chance it might help him remember everything.
"Hm?" The soft questioning sound escaped her as something white caught her peripheral vision.
"OH!" She rushed forward, snatching up the sleeveless undershirt that had been left behind. Without hesitation, she pressed the fabric to her face, inhaling deeply. "You smell just the same," she breathed, her voice thick with sudden heat.
The familiar scent triggered a flood of memories—taking her back to that pivotal moment when Asher, in his previous identity as Azalea, had done this exact same thing to her. The very act that had sparked this all-consuming obsession. His plan had been just as calculated as hers, though more indirect in its execution. He had used it on her, and she had begun craving him with an intensity that bordered on madness.
She had despised the bastard initially, which was why she had resisted for so long. But eventually, when the need became unbearable, combined with how unexpectedly gentle he could be, she had surrendered completely. And he had claimed her so thoroughly that night...
Wasn’t this karma? She was using his own weapon against him, and given that he’d already consumed her little gift and had no knowledge of how to counteract it, his resistance would only last so long. The thought of watching him burn for her, seeing his own body betray his stubborn will, sent electricity through her nerves.