Chapter 1: Midnight in Jakarta
The humid Jakarta night clung to the city like a lover’s breath, heavy and intoxicating. Missy Wolfe stood on the balcony of her high-rise apartment at The Residences of The Ritz-Carlton, a glass of fine cognac in her hand, the amber liquid catching the neon glow of the sprawling metropolis below. Her grey eyes, sharp and mischievous, scanned the horizon as if she could summon him with a mere thought. Her hourglass figure was draped in a sheer black silk robe, the fabric teasing the intricate tattoos that adorned her skin—especially the A7X Death Bat sprawling across her back, a silent tribute to the man who’d been haunting her dreams for months.
Her phone buzzed on the glass table beside her, and a smirk curled her lips. She knew who it was before even glancing at the screen. M. Shadows—Matt Sanders to the world, but something far more primal to her. They’d met in Bali under a blood-red sunset, a chance encounter that had ignited something neither could extinguish. Numbers swapped, texts turned to late-night confessions, and now, stolen moments whenever his band toured close enough—or when he could invent an excuse to escape his life in LA.
'Just landed. Be there in 30. You better not be asleep, witch,' his message read.
Missy chuckled, her fingers dancing over the screen. 'Asleep? I’ve been casting spells to drag your ass here faster. Don’t keep me waiting, rockstar. I’ve got a ritual planned.'
His reply was instant. 'A ritual, huh? Last time you said that, I couldn’t walk straight for a week. I’m game.'
She sipped her cognac, the burn matching the heat already pooling low in her belly. Matt had a wife, kids, a whole damn life back home, but when they were together, none of that existed. It was just raw, unfiltered need—a dangerous game they both played with expert precision.
When the doorbell finally chimed, Missy sauntered to the entrance, her robe slipping just enough to reveal the skeletal monarch tattoo of Matt himself on her ribs. She opened the door to find him standing there, all 6’1” of him, leather jacket slung over a tight black tee, his hazel eyes dark with intent. His smirk was pure sin.
“Damn, woman,” he drawled, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “You look like you’re about to hex me into oblivion.”
“Only if you’re lucky,” she shot back, closing the door with a deliberate click. “I’ve got a Sator Square drawn on the floor in my bedroom. Care to test its power, or are you too jet-lagged to keep up?”
Matt laughed, a low, gravelly sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Jet-lagged? Babe, I’ve been hard since I boarded the plane thinking about you. Lead the way.”
She turned, letting the robe slip further as she walked, knowing his eyes were glued to the sway of her hips. “Keep talking like that, Sanders, and I might just make you beg before we even get started.”
“Begging’s not my style,” he countered, following close, his voice dropping an octave. “But I’ll have you screaming my name before the night’s out. Bet on it.”
They reached her bedroom, the air thick with the scent of sandalwood incense and the faint metallic tang of her ritual tools laid out on a black velvet cloth. Missy turned to face him, her gaze locking with his as she let the robe fall to the floor, revealing every inch of her inked, curvaceous body. His breath hitched, and she reveled in the power she held over him.
“Fuck, Missy,” he growled, stepping closer, his hands itching to touch. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
“Good,” she purred, her fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the heat through his shirt. “I like my men a little dead inside. Makes the resurrection that much sweeter.”
Their banter dissolved into a charged silence as he yanked her against him, his lips crashing into hers with a hunger that bordered on feral. Her nails dug into his shoulders, a silent demand for more, as their tongues battled for dominance. She could feel him, already hard against her thigh, and a wicked grin spread across her face as she pulled back just enough to whisper, “Let’s see if you can handle my kind of magic tonight.”
His hands gripped her ass, pulling her closer, and she knew they were teetering on the edge of something explosive. The night was young, and the ritual had only just begun.
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