Becoming Lailah: Married to my Twin Sister's Billionaire Husband-Chapter 84: The Deal with the Demon

THE KISS deepened, and with it, his supernatural energy swelled around them, not in a predatory way, but in a gentle embrace. It wrapped around Mailah like warm silk, cocooning her in a sensation that made her shiver in the best way.

She clutched at the fabric of his shirt, surprised by how soft the cotton felt beneath her fingertips, how human he felt in her arms.

His lips were warm, hesitant, as though every second he questioned whether he had the right to continue. But the longer their mouths lingered together, the more that hesitance gave way to hunger—not the kind that devoured, but the kind that ached.

Grayson drew back only slightly, their foreheads resting together, his breath uneven. His eyes glowed faintly, betraying the struggle raging inside him.

She grinned at him. "You’re not so terrifying when you’re sulking on a bench like a broody teenager."

"Broody teenager?" His brow arched, dark and incredulous. "I am nearly seven hundred years older than you, Mailah."

"Exactly," she shot back, ignoring the shock she felt upon hearing his real age for the first time. "Which makes the sulking even worse. Shouldn’t ancient demons be wise and brooding, not sulking like someone’s grounded fifteen-year-old?"

He gave her his most intimidating scowl, the one that could turn mortals to stone with fear. But it faltered under the weight of her smile.

A laugh—short, disbelieving, but warm—escaped him, and this time he didn’t try to swallow it back.

Mailah froze at the sound. The demon sitting beside her didn’t feel like the same creature who had fed off her not even a day ago. He felt... reachable. Mortal, even.

Dangerous, a voice in her head warned. That was always how they ensnared people.

But she ignored it, because she wanted to believe in this version of him—the one who could laugh, who could be teased, who could be human if he let himself.

The moment stretched between them, both heavier and lighter than it should have been, until she cleared her throat. "Grayson."

"Mhm?"

"I have a request."

His laughter died. Grayson narrowed his eyes. "I hate that tone."

"It’s not so bad," she promised, though her smirk betrayed her. "Well... not for me. Maybe a little for you."

"Comforting," he muttered. "What is it you want, little mortal?"

She turned to him fully, legs crossed, her expression earnest now. "If you really want to survive on earth without losing control, you can’t just go on pretending forever. At some point, you’ll either let your true nature take over—like your brothers—or you’ll find a way to keep living like a human. A changed one."

He stilled, studying her. His fingers flexed against his knees as though the suggestion itself made him uneasy. "And which path," he asked carefully, "do you think I should take?"

Mailah hesitated, then leaned in closer, lowering her voice as if the trees might eavesdrop. "That’s why I want to come with you. To work. To watch how you live. To make sure you can handle this—being... both."

For a heartbeat, silence crashed between them. Then Grayson’s face twisted in disbelief. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Because—" He faltered, which was rare enough that Mailah nearly laughed again. "Because it is a terrible idea. I balance a life built on lies, Mailah. You think you want to see that, but you don’t."

She tilted her head, unfazed. "I think I do. And I think you need me there."

"I do not—" 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

"You do," she interrupted, with the kind of firmness that made him blink. "Otherwise, you’ll spiral. You’ll go back to sulking and brooding and maybe worse. You should know how to be really human, Grayson. I can help you."

The words hung there, daring him to argue. For once, he didn’t.

Instead, his jaw worked silently, a thousand refusals forming and dying in the space of seconds. Finally, he exhaled, muttering under his breath. "Fine."

"But only once. One day. After that, you will regret ever asking," he continued, each syllable dripping with doom.

"I doubt that," she said breezily, standing and stretching. "Besides, you forget—I’ve already seen you work before. One of them on live television."

Grayson groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Do not remind me of that humiliation."

"Oh, I’ll remind you forever," Mailah teased, leaning close. "The mighty demon, slayer of souls, billionaire CEO of Ashford Corp... stuck on morning TV."

He shot her a look, equal parts menace and amusement. "I had no other choice but to help you. You would have set the entire studio on fire."

"You smiled. You answered questions." She grinned wickedly. "The world’s most dangerous man... reduced to cooking risotto on live television."

His lips twitched, but his eyes narrowed. "Do you enjoy mocking me?"

"Very much." She leaned in closer, voice dropping to a taunt. "Especially when you pretend to be human. You almost looked... normal."

"Normal," he repeated flatly.

"Yes. Normal. Like you belonged at a boardroom luncheon instead of brooding over the fate of mortals." She tilted her head, daring him. "It suits you."

His jaw flexed, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he moved closer, his presence swallowing the space between them. "Careful, Mailah," he murmured. "Flattery might tempt me into believing you actually want me to keep playing this role."

"Maybe I do," she whispered back before she could stop herself.

The silence that followed was dangerous. His eyes glowed faintly, that impossible fire simmering beneath his control.

For a moment, she thought he might crush the distance, claim her mouth again, and damn the consequences.

Instead, he pulled back—deliberately, almost cruelly. "Stop being reckless," he said, voice low.

"You’re the one who keeps letting me get close," she shot back.

The corner of his mouth curved, sharp and devastating. "You confuse proximity for power." He turned his gaze toward the passerbys nearby. "But I indulge you."

Mailah raised her brow, following his gaze. "And here I thought the great Grayson Ashford doesn’t indulge anyone."

"Perhaps you are the exception."

Her pulse stuttered. The way he said it—quiet, deliberate, like a vow—burned hotter than any touch.

For the rest of the evening, their banter moved like a dance. Every smile was a risk, every brush of his hand against hers a dare.

The meal, the wine, the laughter—they all blurred into something headier, something she wasn’t ready to name.

When their eyes locked, the weight of it was unbearable. He was danger wrapped in tailored power, and she should have feared him.

Instead, she realized the real threat wasn’t his wealth, his power, or even the shadows that followed him.

The danger was how much she wanted him to choose humanity—choose her—instead.

And judging by the heat in his gaze, he just might.

********************************************************************

The car purred smoothly over the city streets, its tinted windows cutting them off from the world outside.

Mailah leaned back against the buttery leather seats, the hum of the engine vibrating beneath her, a steady counterpoint to the tension that always seemed to thrum in the air when she was with Grayson.

Like before, the partition between the front and back seats was sealed, the driver a silent silhouette beyond frosted glass.

The cocoon of privacy was almost oppressive, though Mailah remembered Grayson’s reassurance: "We’re out of earshot."

Her eyes flicked to him now. He lounged beside her in the shadowed interior, one arm draped lazily along the back of the seat, his other hand resting on his thigh with deceptively casual ease.

But she could sense it—that leashed energy in him, the way his presence seemed to command even the silence.

"So," she said finally, breaking it. Her voice felt too loud, and she lowered it instinctively, as though the car itself might be listening. "Tomorrow then. My first day at Ashford Corp."

Grayson’s head tilted slightly, his lips curving into the kind of smirk that made her pulse jump. "Your first day," he repeated, drawing out the words like silk over skin. "You sound... confident. Almost as if you believe there will be more than one."

Mailah matched his gaze, refusing to let him win the little duel of nerves he seemed to set up with every sentence. "That’s because there will be." She arched a brow, daring him. "I’m not exactly a one-day kind of woman, Grayson. You’ll see."

He chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating like dark velvet. "Mm. Such certainty. You forget, little mortal, I am the one who decides who stays in my office—and who doesn’t."

"And you forget," she countered lightly, turning just enough that their knees brushed, "I’m not in your office yet. I’m in your car. Which means I get to tell you what I’ve decided. And I’ve decided that I’ll be around long enough for you to regret letting me in."

The faintest flicker passed through his eyes, something unreadable, something dangerous. But then his smirk widened, sharp and predatory. "Regret," he murmured, tasting the word. "An interesting promise. You think you can make me regret?"

"I think," Mailah said, her smile bright but her voice steady, "you’re going to get used to me being there. And once you do, you won’t want to let me go."

The air between them tightened. His smirk faltered just enough to betray the truth—that her words had struck something. His hand shifted, fingers flexing against the leather.

"You are far too comfortable wagering with a demon," he said softly. "Do you not realize how dangerous that is?"

Her heart beat faster, but she didn’t look away. "Do you not realize how dangerous you already are to me?"

The silence that followed was heavy, pulsing, almost unbearable.

The city lights smeared across the dark glass as the car turned, shadows pooling in the corners of the backseat.

Finally, Grayson exhaled a sharp laugh, low and incredulous. He leaned back, breaking the intensity of his gaze, though the curve of his lips betrayed both amusement and something far more volatile. "You are really reckless."

"Or maybe just brave."

"Bravery," he said, his eyes finding hers again, "is just recklessness wrapped in prettier words."

Mailah shrugged, feigning nonchalance, though her palms were damp against her skirt. "Then I’ll take pretty words. I like them better."

His smirk returned, slower this time, deliberate. He shifted, closing the small space between them until his shoulder brushed hers, until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "You will regret challenging me," he said, voice dipping lower, rougher.

She swallowed, her throat dry, but forced a smile. "Maybe. But not tomorrow."

Something flared in his gaze then, a dangerous spark that sent a shiver down her spine.

He looked away first, turning his head toward the darkened city beyond the window, as if wrestling down an impulse.

His jaw clenched, the muscle tight, and for the first time since stepping into the car, Mailah wondered if she had pushed too far.

But when he spoke again, his tone was softer—too soft. "Do you know what it means to step into my world, Mailah?"

Her breath caught. "You mean your company, or... you?"

His lips curved again, though there was no humor this time. "Both."

She considered her answer carefully, the hum of the car filling the silence. "I know enough," she said finally. "Enough to say yes."

He studied her then, really studied her, his blue-gray eyes glowing faintly in the shadows. She felt stripped bare under his gaze, as though he could see not just her confidence but her fear, her hope, her stubborn insistence that she wasn’t in over her head—even when she probably was.

At last, he leaned back again, loosening the unbearable tension in the air. "Tomorrow then," he said, almost to himself. "We’ll see how long you last."