THE DEVIL I NEVER HATED

Chapter One: The Perfect Girl

The music was loud enough to make the windows tremble, the bass pulsing through the walls of the sprawling house as bodies moved beneath a haze of coloured lights and cigarette smoke. Someone had turned the living room into a dance floor, someone else had already broken a lamp, and the kitchen counter was rapidly disappearing beneath an army of red plastic cups. It was exactly the kind of party everyone would be talking about on Monday morning, and if Bex had anything to do with it, her name would probably be somewhere near the centre of the conversation.

Bex stood near the middle of the room with a drink in one hand, laughing at something her friend Chloe had said while several people tried to get her attention at once. Her black dress hugged her figure flawlessly, her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and the effortless confidence she wore made it look as though she had been born knowing exactly how to command a room. She wasn't trying to attract attention tonight, but that had never really mattered because attention always seemed to find her whether she wanted it or not.

"Bex, over here!" someone called from across the room.

She glanced over and saw a guy from one of her classes raising his drink toward her with a wide grin. She smiled politely before turning back to Chloe, who immediately gave her an amused, knowing look.

"That's number six tonight," Chloe said, leaning closer so she could be heard over the thumping music.

Bex frowned, swirling the ice in her cup. "Number six what?"

"Guys who've tried to talk to you since we got here."

Bex laughed and shook her head, dismissing the comment. "Maybe they're just being friendly."

Chloe stared at her for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Please, every girl here wants to be you, and every guy here wants to date you. You could sneeze in someone's direction and he'd probably take it as a marriage proposal."

Bex rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face faded slightly as she glanced toward the other side of the room. Being Bex had always come with a heavy set of expectations and assumptions. People assumed she was confident because she was popular, assumed she was happy because she always looked put together, and assumed her relationship with Mark was perfect because they looked flawless together. Nobody ever seemed to consider that perhaps being the girl everyone watched could become incredibly exhausting.

She had learned a long time ago that people rarely wanted to know what was happening underneath the surface. They wanted the glamorous version of Bex they had created in their heads, and she had become very good at giving them exactly what they expected.

"Where actually is Mark?" Chloe asked, looking around.

Bex glanced toward the kitchen again, searching the crowd for the familiar dark hair and expensive watch she had grown used to spotting across every room they entered together. "I thought he was with the guys."

"You've been here nearly an hour," Chloe pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"I know, but he probably just got distracted by someone."

Something about that answer bothered her, although she couldn't quite explain the sudden prickle of unease. Mark wasn't usually difficult to find at parties because he liked being seen with her almost as much as everyone else liked seeing them together. He normally kept one hand wrapped around her waist, making sure everyone knew exactly who his girlfriend was. Tonight, however, he had barely spoken to her before disappearing into the crowd.

Bex took another sip of her drink and pushed the thought aside, refusing to become the kind of girlfriend who needed to track her boyfriend every second of the night. She trusted him, and besides, she had enough self-respect not to chase after someone who clearly didn't need babysitting, or at least that was the lie she told herself to keep her pride intact.

"I'm going to go find him," she said eventually, setting her drink down.

Chloe caught her wrist before she could move. "Want me to come with you?"

"No, stay here, I'll be two minutes."

She slipped through the crowd, weaving between dancing bodies and people leaning against walls while shouting conversations over the music. The hallway was slightly quieter, although the bass still vibrated beneath her high heels. She checked the kitchen first, then the crowded backyard, but there was no sign of Mark anywhere.

As she stepped back inside, she noticed one of his friends coming down the hallway, looking slightly dishevelled.

"Hey, have you seen Mark?" she asked.

The guy hesitated, and though it lasted barely a second, Bex noticed the subtle shift in his posture.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, avoiding eye contact. "He's upstairs, I think."

Bex studied his face, her suspicion deepening. "You think?"

"I saw him heading up there a little while ago."

"Thanks," she murmured, walking toward the stairs.

The moment she turned away from him, her practiced smile completely disappeared. Every instinct she possessed was telling her to pay attention because something felt entirely wrong.

The upstairs hallway was dimmer than the chaotic rooms below, with only a few lamps casting pools of yellow light across the walls. The music from downstairs became muffled as she walked farther along the carpeted corridor, replaced by the sound of faint laughter coming from somewhere near the end.

Bex slowed her pace as she recognized that laugh, realizing with a sinking feeling that it belonged to a girl she didn't know. Then she heard Mark's voice, and her stomach tightened into a painful knot as she forced herself to keep walking.

A bedroom door stood partially open ahead of her, and she noticed a dark shape lying on the floor just outside it. As she got closer, she recognized Mark's favorite jacket discarded on the floorboards.

She stopped in her tracks, staring at it for one strange second while she tried to make sense of the visual. Then she heard the girl's voice again, prompting Bex to step closer to the doorway.

Her entire body went entirely cold as she witnessed Mark kissing someone else.

There was no confusion, no innocent explanation, and no possible way to misunderstand what she was looking at. His hand was tangled tightly in the girl's hair while the other rested around her waist, and the stranger was pressed against him as though she had every right to be there.

Bex stared at them, the world becoming strangely quiet despite the music still pounding away downstairs.

Mark pulled away first, his eyes finding hers as his expression changed instantly to one of pure panic.

"Bex," he stammered, freezing in place.

She didn't move an inch, holding his gaze with a numbness that terrified her. The girl turned toward the doorway, and the moment she saw who was standing there, her face drained of all colour.

For several agonizing seconds, none of them spoke. Bex looked at Mark, then at the girl, and finally back to Mark as her fingers tightened around the plastic cup in her hand until the plastic buckled and cracked.

"Wow," she whispered, the syllable heavy with betrayal.

Mark took an urgent step toward her. "Bex, wait."

She stepped backward into the hallway. "No."

"It isn't what you think, I swear."

A hollow, humourless laugh escaped her. "Really?"

"Bex, just listen to me for a second."

"Don't even try," she said, turning around and walking away.

She didn't scream, she didn't slap him, and she didn't make a scene, even though some deep, furious part of her wanted to turn around and destroy everything in that room. Instead, she walked down the stairs with her head held high, pretending that her entire world hadn't just shifted beneath her feet.

Someone stopped her near the front door. "Bex, you okay?"

She forced a bright smile. "I'm fine."

The lie came so easily that it frightened her, and she stepped outside before anyone could ask another question.

The cool night air hit her face, and for the first time since she'd opened that bedroom door, she allowed herself to breathe. Her hands were shaking violently, so she shoved them into the hidden pockets of her dress and stared across the dark driveway.

She could hear Mark calling her name behind her, but she refused to turn around.

He caught up to her just before she reached the street. "Bex, please talk to me."

She ignored his plea and opened the passenger door of his car. "Take me home right now."

Mark stared at her in frustration. "You're not even going to talk to me about this?"

She looked straight ahead, ignoring his gaze. "Take me home."

He stood there for another moment before finally getting into the driver's seat. The car pulled away from the house, and Bex turned her face toward the passenger window, watching the party lights disappear behind them.

For several minutes, neither of them spoke a word. The heavy silence felt infinitely worse than an argument, but Mark finally broke it.

"It was a mistake," he muttered.

Bex closed her eyes for a brief moment before turning toward him. "A mistake?"

"I wasn't thinking straight."

"You were thinking enough to take her upstairs to a private room."

"Bex, I don't know what you want me to say."

"The actual truth would be a nice start."

"I messed up, okay?"

"No," she said quietly, her voice trembling despite how hard she tried to control it. "You made a conscious choice."

Mark tightened his hands around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. "Can you just calm down?"

Bex stared at him in utter disbelief. "Calm down? You cheated on me, Mark."

"I said I'm sorry."

"You should be sorry."

"I love you, Bex."

The words hit her harder than she expected, and she stared at him with burning eyes, trying to understand how he could say those words after what she'd just seen.

"If you loved me," she whispered, "you wouldn't have done it."

Mark didn't answer her, and Bex turned back toward the window, blinking rapidly as she fought the hot tears gathering in her eyes. She hated crying in front of him, she hated that he could still hurt her so deeply, and most of all, she hated the fact that only an hour ago she'd believed they were fine.

She had believed the same lie everyone else believed about perfect Bex, perfect Mark, and their perfect relationship.

The car continued through increasingly empty streets until Bex finally realised they weren't heading toward her neighbourhood.

She looked around at the unfamiliar dark roads. "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking a different route to avoid traffic," he lied.

"Take me home, Mark."

"I am taking you home."

"Then why are we out here in the middle of nowhere?"

Mark didn't answer, and a tight knot of dread formed in her stomach. "Mark, answer me."

He suddenly pulled the car onto the gravel shoulder and slammed on the brakes.

Bex looked at him in complete confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Get out of the car," he said coldly.

Her heart seemed to stop completely. "What?"

"You heard me, get out."

She stared at the empty road ahead, then back at his hardened expression. "You cannot be serious right now."

"You said we're over, so get out."

"I said I was breaking up with you, but I didn't say you could dump me in the middle of nowhere."

Mark's jaw tightened. "Get out, Bex."

She stared at him, stunned by the absolute coldness in his voice. "You're seriously leaving me here?"

He looked away from her. "Get out."

For the first time that night, her anger was replaced by something colder and much heavier, which was pure disbelief.

Bex slowly opened the passenger door and stepped onto the dark asphalt. Her high heels immediately sank slightly against the rough surface, and she looked down at the ridiculousness of herself standing there in a party dress with nowhere to go.

She turned back toward the open car door. "You are such a coward."

Mark's expression hardened, but he said absolutely nothing as Bex slammed the door shut.

The car accelerated away into the night, leaving behind a cloud of dust. She watched the red taillights disappear into the darkness until there was nothing left but the sound of the wind, and only then did the tears finally fall.

Bex wrapped her arms around solidification and looked down the empty highway. The girl who had walked into that party surrounded by friends, admirers, and the illusion of a perfect life was entirely gone. All that remained was a woman standing alone in the darkness, trying desperately to convince herself she didn't care.

She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and straightened her shoulders, determined to find a way back on her own. She wasn't going to cry anymore, she wasn't going to call Mark, she wasn't going to beg him to come back, and she certainly wasn't going to let anyone see her like this.

Bright headlights suddenly appeared in the distance.

Bex narrowed her eyes as the vehicle approached, the engine growing louder and deeper with every passing second. She couldn't make out the shape at first, but as it drew closer, the sleek black body of a Lamborghini became unmistakable beneath the flickering streetlights.

Her stomach dropped instantly.

Of all the people who could possibly find her stranded on a deserted highway tonight, it had to be the one person she dreaded seeing.

It was Xavier Dalton.

Bex lifted her chin, wiped the last trace of tears from beneath her eyes, and silently prayed he would just drive past.

The Lamborghini slowed to a crawl, and then the tinted passenger window began to lower.

CHAPTER TWO: FREE AGENTS

The sleek passenger window of the matte-black Lamborghini Veneno lowered with a faint hiss, cutting through the heavy silence of the deserted highway. Xavier Dalton leaned across the console, his sharp jawline illuminated by the amber glow of the dashboard lights as he fixed her with a characteristically arrogant smirk.

"Need a ride, babygirl?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock sympathy that immediately made Bex's defenses spike.

"Um, no, I'm good," Bex replied, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

The heat from the asphalt radiated through the soles of Bex's shoes, the desolate highway stretching out like an endless ribbon of grey. Despite her attempt to look composed, the faint redness around her eyes and the slight tremble in her hands betrayed the mess Mark had left her in. Xavier leaned his elbow on the door's edge, his dark eyes scanning her from hea