Devilish secretary - Chapter 268

Chapter 268: Chapter 268 Black Cat
“I hated you for that,” she said, her voice low but seething with emotion. “Because I thought you were stronger than that.”

Gray didn’t speak. Couldn’t. He was too lost in her words, in the fire in her eyes.

“And that made me want to break something. You, maybe.” Her nails dragged lightly across his chest. “But then I remembered…”

She pressed closer, one leg sliding between his. He gasped as she kissed just below his collarbone…slow, open-mouthed, like she was tasting him.

“…You’re mine,” she said. “And if you’re still breathing, Gray, I will not let you go.”

Her lips left a trail across his chest. She whispered again. “I will chase you. Into the dark. Into whatever shadow you hide in. You collapse once more, and I’ll follow… but don’t expect mercy.”

His hands trembled now. With desire. With emotion. With that aching pull only she had power over.

“Liliy..” he whispered.

She looked up. And in her eyes he saw it all: fury, longing, heartbreak… and something terrifyingly beautiful.

“You’re not allowed to disappear,” she said. “Because I’m the only one who gets to destroy you.”

And then she bit him.

Right at the edge of his jaw, not enough to hurt, but enough to mark.

Enough to burn.

His head thudded back against the garden wall, eyes fluttering shut, chest heaving.

“You burn me,” she murmured.

“You make me want to burn everything.”

Gray reached up then, cupping the back of her neck, holding her there, forehead to forehead.

And even without words, she knew.

If she was fire…He was more than willing to drown in her flames.

Her hands moved slowly across his chest, fingertips tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt. The fabric hung loosely now, the buttons undone, revealing his skin to the moonlight. She wasn’t gentle. She touched him like she owned him—firm, deliberate, almost like she was trying to memorize the shape of his body.

Gray’s breath caught as her palm rested right over his heart. Her thumb brushed over it softly, then pressed.

“Still beating,” she whispered. “Good.”

Then just as the moment thickened with tension—

A low hiss.

Both of them froze.

A black cat leaped down from the wall behind them, landing with eerie grace just beside their feet. Its eyes glowed a soft, unnatural gold, its fur silky and midnight-dark. The silence cracked, and Lilith stepped back.

Gray blinked, dazed by the sudden break in her touch, his heart still pounding.

Lilith’s eyes flicked toward the creature, and for a moment just a second—they glowed.

Not with anger. Not with surprise.

But with recognition.

She bent down silently, as if responding to an old, forgotten instinct. The cat didn’t flinch. It allowed itself to be scooped into her arms as if it had been waiting for her all along. In her grasp, the animal purred softly, eyes half-lidded, completely calm—as if it belonged there.

As if she was its master.

Or maybe something else.

Gray straightened, his breath still uneven. He watched Lilith, her expression unreadable as the wind blew strands of her hair across her face. The moonlight caught the edge of her profile—the sharpness in her cheekbones, the stillness in her gaze. It felt like a dream, a change in the air he couldn’t explain.

She didn’t say a word to him.

Just turned.

And walked back toward the mansion with the cat cradled against her chest. The creature nuzzled into her collarbone, utterly tamed. The wild fire in her eyes faded into quiet calm as she disappeared through the garden archway.

Gray stood there, stunned.

Still open-shirted. Still burning from her touch.

And more confused than ever.

What the hell just happened?

***

Gray walked back into the mansion quietly, the chill of the night still clinging to his skin. He went straight to his room, not saying a word, and quickly changed into a clean black hoodie and joggers—something soft, something familiar, something that might help steady the chaos burning in his chest.

But it didn’t.

Because when he stepped into the dining hall for dinner, the scene before him only made it worse.

The long wooden table was set simply tonight—warm soup, soft bread, roasted vegetables, and rice. The atmosphere was calm, almost too calm. Everyone was quietly eating, except her.

Lilith.

She was sitting at the far end, her chair slightly pulled back, cradling the black cat in her lap like it was royalty. Her hand moved slowly, elegantly, as she spooned soft food into a small dish on the table. The cat, curled in her arms like a pampered prince, was purring so loudly it was almost embarrassing.

He quickly walked over, sat nearest to her, and looked at her.

She hadn’t even glanced at him once.

Not a flicker of attention. Not a word.

Nothing.

Gray stared, spoon frozen halfway to his mouth. His jaw clenched. Was she seriously ignoring him? After the way she had kissed him, touched him, whispered things into his bones?

And now she was feeding a cat?

His chest tightened. He wasn’t proud of it but he felt it. Jealousy.

Real, ridiculous jealousy.

And it wasn’t just him.

Sir Sparkleton, sitting on a small cushioned stool beside Lilith’s chair, looked utterly scandalized. His little red eyes blinked furiously as he pointed a tiny robotic paw toward the cat.

“Miss Lilith,” he said in his annoyingly polite but twitchy voice, “as your loyal assistant, I must report that domestic felines are highly expensive to maintain. Statistically speaking, 43.2% of cats scratch furniture, and 81.6% demand expensive tuna.”

Lilith didn’t look up. “This one only eats silence and pride. He fits in.”

Sir Sparkleton made a mechanical choking sound. “Blasphemy. He has fur, and I have circuits! At least I know how to flush a toilet!”

“Do you?” Ava muttered from her seat, raising an eyebrow. “Because last night—”

“ERROR! ERROR! Personal attacks detected!”

Meanwhile, Gray just sat quietly, watching her feed the cat again as it purred and leaned into her touch.

He gripped his spoon tightly.

That little furball was getting all the attention he used to get.

And Lilith just smiled faintly at the cat and whispered something softly into its fur.

Whatever she was doing…

it was working.

She was making both of them jealous.