Cater To You Life with a Billionaire

Chapter 1

​This is a bad idea.

​For the umpteenth time, that sentence echoed in my head. A hint of regret slipped into my heart for refusing Oliver's offer to drive me home.

​Well, actually, it was mostly my pride that prevented me from accepting. We had just ended our relationship two weeks ago. After two years together, a woman finally showed up at my apartment a few weeks back and slapped me across the face before screaming at me to stay away from Oliver.

​She claimed to be Oliver's girlfriend and said they had been dating for over a year.

​Damn Oliver. He wasn't even that handsome. But the bastard had been cheating on me for over a year.

​I turned back for the third time while my feet kept moving. My instinct told me something was following me—or someone.

​This was all because Mr. Newman had forced several staff members to work overtime for the past three days. And today was the worst of it; we were only able to leave at eleven-thirty at night. Me, Oliver, and a few other staff members.

​Unfortunately, no buses were operating this late, and waiting for a taxi would take even longer. So, stupidly, I decided to walk.

​"This is a really bad idea, Ella," I muttered to myself. I should have been patient and just waited for a taxi.

​I had passed this way a few times before because it was the fastest walking route to my apartment. The street was lined with shops selling food and goods from Mexico, which I remembered always being crowded during the day. Sadly, the daytime atmosphere was a stark contrast to tonight.

​Every shop had ceased operations and was closed tight. I could only see light from a few storefront windows and street lamps. The rest was pitch black.

​The sound of my heels—which weren't very high—sounded faint as they tapped against the pavement. For some reason, the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I entered this cursed street.

​I forced my eyes to look straight ahead; only a hundred meters left until I emerged from this terrifying road. I promised myself I would never pass through here again at night.

​Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the silence around me, causing my steps to halt in place. The sound was agonizing, as if the owner of the voice was in true pain.

​It was a sharp contrast to the silence I had heard before.

​Every hair on my body stood on end as the instinct in my head screamed for me to run. But a part of my conscience told me to turn back and help.

​This is one of humanity's weaknesses: trusting conscience over the brain. If this were a horror movie, I'd definitely be the first to die a gruesome death.

​My heart pounded hard in my chest as I turned back. No matter how loud the instinct screamed in my head, I stepped toward the source of the sound.

​The place where the voice came from was an alley. It fell silent again.

​I narrowed my eyes toward the dark alley, hoping to see more clearly. This alley wasn't very big—exactly like the alleys in horror movies where Jack the Ripper emerges from the shadows with a bloody knife after butchering his victim.

​With my hands still trembling slightly, my fingers pressed 911, and then from the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow moving in the darkness.

​"Hello?" suddenly a man's voice echoed in the alley, nearly making me drop my phone in shock.

​I looked up to see the silhouette of a man walking toward me. This time I followed my instinct; my feet stepped back a few meters.

​The man wore a white shirt with a black leather jacket and jeans. He clearly didn't look like Jack the Ripper.

​"Are you okay?" the man asked with a small smile. The smile on his face looked a bit strange, so I stepped back again.

​"What was that sound?" I asked with a slightly panicked voice. My heart was racing so fast I could almost hear it in my ears.

​The man stopped a few meters in front of me, right under a street lamp. The light illuminated his face clearly.

​His slightly long black hair touched the collar of his shirt. His strange black eyes stared at me. He fell into the category of handsome.

​Or very handsome, if we had met in a normal situation.

​But there was something strange—something wrong about him. The man smiled again when he saw my expression.

​"What sound did you hear?" He tilted his head slightly to the right; his deep voice sounded almost pleasant.

​My mouth opened to answer, then I closed it again. If he was a killer, then telling him wasn't a good idea. I gripped my phone tightly.

​"Ummm, I think I misheard," I murmured, preparing to turn around.

​"Wait a moment, Miss." The voice sounded commanding as it called out to me, making me freeze in place again.

​"Is someone following you?" he asked in a worried tone while glancing behind me.

​Reflexively, I turned my head back to look, but there was nothing there.

​"Ah, I guess I miscalculated." Suddenly the voice sounded very close, making my heart leap in my chest. When I turned back, he was already right in front of me.

​"Tsk. Sweet lady, I'm a bit sorry I have to hurt you." He said it with a lazy voice before smirking slightly; a pair of fangs appeared from behind his lips.

​His hand moved just as my mouth opened to scream. And in just one second, his warm, wet lips touched my neck.

​A pair of sharp fangs tore into the skin of my neck painfully. My mouth was open to scream, but no sound came out.

​The last thing I remember was the bright light from the street lamp and the sound of a terrifyingly loud gulp.

​(6 months later)