The Double-Blind Effect
Chapter 11
The Deal
"If your feelings for me are real, they can't be erased. You will always feel them regardless of whether or not I'm around. Mark my words."—ACM
(Day 13 afternoon. Days before the grand opening.)
'I'm so sorry this shouldn't have happened. Please try to understand. I'm in a committed relationship, Al.' The sentence repeatedly played in her head over the events that occurred a few days ago—trying to keep herself preoccupied with writing out bills and putting them into envelopes to be mailed the next day. She checked her email for any status updates on Angel's whereabouts. 'Nada, no calls, no emails, no nothing.' She let out a long sigh, combing through her pale blonde hair, and her head fell ungracefully against the cold mahogany desk.
The princess turned her face to the right, staring at a grandfather clock; she watched the secondhand move an eternity around for a full minute. Time drifted by at a snail's pace, and she couldn't take sitting around! Springing out of the office chair, she zoomed over to the window to crack it open for some fresh air. Her gaze lingered to a gloomy-looking potted plant that rested upon a long office table alongside various trinkets, and she frowned. "Sorry, little buddy."
She waltzed over to pick up the small potted shrub along with a water canteen that was connivingly left on the floor next to the dresser, placing the plant against the windowsill for it to soak up the sunlight. "At least one of us here deserves to be happy." The heiress murmured, watering the plant, then she hurried around the office, looking for other various plants that desperately needed to be water.
Charlie came across a tropical leafed plant next to her desk; she touched the rubbery leaves while watering the plant. "…This one is fake." She cumbersomely announced, putting the water canteen down beside the desk. "I can't focus today."
The Hell Princess couldn't procrastinate the inevitable any longer. The secrets were piling up from the wet dream to what she can consider now a date with Alastor and the fiasco from a few days ago. Charlie had nowhere left to turn for advice, and the other day she tried to call her mom, but it went to voicemail again. Maybe she should have spoken to Angel about her crisis when she had the opportunity; at least then she could've got some advice, or at the most, someone who wouldn't think she's completely insane.
There's no way she could talk to Vaggie about this. They're barely on speaking terms! Since the fight, the only time she talked to her girlfriend is if it's about work-related situations, and for once, she wouldn't be the one to apologize or bring the subject up to her moth. She wasn't the one who started this maddening disarray, but currently, she's the only one trying to fix it. Not to mention, Vaggie berating her every decision-making, from questioning her suggestion box to her judgment about Alastor. The cherry on top was her Hispanic moth was now scaring away patients with her anger issues, along with Charlie's hopes of redemption for sinners. Every time she tried to ease her moth's emotions, sooner or later, she'd come back with the same problems, and the heiress could feel the emotional toll weighing down on her.
The Radio Demon had the opposite serendipity effect on her. Anytime she's in his presence, she counted on an utterly delightful experience, and he always managed to turn her frown upside down. She's confused and a little annoyed by an inexplicable growing desire for something more, which her subconscious neglectfully forgot to inform her brain. She rubbed the spot on her neck, where Alastor bit her, and thankfully the skin healed.
'Did this all start from the moment he simply said, 'Hello,'' Did her sexual attraction date back to the moment he entered her life? Whether this desire conveyed by him or originated from her subconscious was a mystery to her. One thing was sure, what happened days ago proved she wasn't foolish, hopefully. Just what was Alastor thinking? He knows she's in a relationship, so why? The sinner's too unpredictable for her to understand, and it left her with a thrashing headache.
The best solution she could come up with was to erase the infatuation for him and set him straight; if he attempts something again, everything can go back to normal if the problem never existed.
Right?
She sauntered over to a long bookshelf filled with hell's fairytale books along with some golden trophies and achievement certificates from high school in performing arts, such as singing and dancing rewards. Charlie unconsciously hummed a sunny tune, swerving around; she breezed to the opposite end of the office. Her fingers grazed against the polished desk, tapping instinctively against picture frames and porcelain vases. Each object produced a diversity of sounds that reverberated within the room.
When she reached her destination, she stood in front of a sophisticated golden framed family portrait. She stared at the image of her parents, particularly to her smiling father. "Dad... do you hate me?"
Why can't life be a musical? In the movies, music resolved every conundrum through a cheerful, harmonious number!
Perhaps if she were to sing from the heart and meticulously listened to it, she could better understand what is going on. Closing her doe eyes, she remained silent. The sounds from the ticking secondhand clock echoed, and with the window open, she could hear the faintest sounds of traffic. The beeping of cars and tires skidding as the light turns red. In her mind, the jingles coalesced into a beat…
Her eyes opened; she stares at the trophies.
If there is a prize for awful judgment.
I guess I already won that.
No one is worth my sanity.
That's history! Been there, done that!
(Who you think your foolin?)
(He's the Earth and Hell to you!)
(You're trying to denyin. Honey, we see right through you!)
'Am I hearing things too?!' She hysterically thought, her fingers digging into her ears in hopes to unclog it and silence the voices in her mind! It miserably failed. The familiar eerie sounds were coming right behind her. Under normal circumstances, she has no issue with an audience, but today out of all days, wasn't normal. She vigilantly spun around; her doe eyes scanned the room in search of a life form, but alas, there wasn't a single soul.
The coordinated humming continued to harass her. Where is this mysterious sound?! Her curious gaze lingered up to the family portrait. Charlie stared flabbergasted at what she could only describe as an irrefutable mental breakdown. In her mind, she breathed life into the picture of her parents; it animated itself into existence! She profusely rubbed her eyes in skepticism, looking again. They were still humming, still moving and snapping their fingers to a beat within the portrait. 'Ooh satan, I lost my marbles! Or maybe I didn't have them to begin with?'
Was this her subconscious trying to submit a message, or was this the Universe playing a dirty trick on her? 'I guess I'm rolling with it.'
Ooh, Noo!
(Girl, you can't keep on hiddin it, we know how you feel.)
(And who you're thinkin of.)
No chance, hell no, I won't say it.
No, no!
(You laugh, you smile, why reject it?)
( Uh-oh!)
It's too insane!
I won't say I'm falling for him…
'Have I gone mad? Is this how Alice felt being in Wonderland?' Why, out of all inanimate objects in the room, did her whacky mind fabricate her parent's portrait to be the one singing? She didn't need this; it was too freaky. 'No freaky is an understatement. This is ass-backward!' If she had the encyclopedia on hand, she's ninety-eight percent sure she is under the category mad with an illustration in the glossary.
The heiress relocated over to the office desk, sitting down on the edge of the desk. She reached over to grasp a small, dainty picture frame, staring fondly at a vertical line collage of her moth and herself. Charlie reminisced back to that particular day. They've been going out for about a month; she convinced her girlfriend to go to a photo booth and take some goofy pictures. In the last image, they held each other as Charlie kissed her girlfriend's cheek.
'If memory serves me correctly, I was trying to be all romantic and cook dinner for her that night, but I ended up burning the whole chicken, so we decided to get pizza. Afterward, a thunderstorm rolled in, and we didn't have umbrellas, so I tried to convince her to dance with me in the rain, but she refused. Instead, we ran home laughing at how forgetful we were, and then we kissed. I never realized how romantic kissing in the rain could be.'
I thought my heart had belonged to another.
It felt so good at the beginning,
My head is shouting, 'get a grip, girl.'
Unless you're dying to cry your eyes out!
(Oooh)
(You can keep on fighting what this is and how you're feelin)
(Honey, we're not fallen for it. Sweetie, we saw you fall in his arms!)
Oh noo!
(Face it like a grown-up, when are you gonna wake up?!)
(That you got, got, got it bad!)
Whooa!
Setting the photo down, she hopped off the desk and frantically paced the office. No one knew of her inner turmoil, where her mind declared war with her heart—the fight between what she knew, what mysterious new feelings arose, and her ultimatum. Just shy of two weeks since Alastor moved in, she recognized the infatuation wasn't preparing to depart; instead, she believed it was growing…
Charlie's time with the overlord felt like a lucid dream that she didn't quite want to wake up. She couldn't recall when she had that much fun watching a movie with Alastor or how they danced and sang for hours. Her moth couldn't quite dance like him or sing, and to be honest, she never encouraged the princess's theatric side as he did. Even if he didn't believe in her cause, he endlessly reinvigorated her dreams and made her smile. He made her blush more times than she could count. She feared whatever the choice was, they both had a probability of ending disaster.
Life shouldn't be this complicated; life should have endless happiness! Rainbows and puppy dog kisses and lots of chocolate!
That the sort of world she desired…
The heiress irritably whirled around, marching over to the animated picture. Her black fingernails were digging into her palms so strongly she was sure they punctured through the skin. 'I refuse to believe this!'
No chance, hell no
I won't say it, no, no.
(Give up, give in. Check those cheeks you're in love)
Get off my back!
I refuse to say it!
(Girl, don't be afraid. It's okay. You're in love.)
Ahhh…. at least out loud, I won't say… I'm falling for him…
The minute she blinked, the animated portrait was just another lifeless picture. Dropping to her knees, she ungracefully plopped to her side only and rolled over on her back. Charlie stared at the white ceiling in disbelief over the words that escaped. "Alice is right. It's no use going back to yesterday because I was a different person." In the end, her heart told her what her mind neglected to mention. "I have feelings for Al…."
Is it possible that her feelings for Vaggie weren't the same anymore since the overlord entered her life? When did things change? The more the princess thought about it, the more it scared the hell out of her. Did she possess the capability to hurt her girlfriend? The idea alone petrified her; she couldn't do it. She still cared about her girlfriend.
And so, what would the ultimatum be?
'It doesn't matter how I may feel towards, Al. Vaggie has always been there for me. I choose her.' For now, she'll be extra cautious around Alastor if he were to try something like the kitchen fiasco. She feared her body might succumb. Whatever Alastor is up to, she clarified they are strictly business partners. Nothing more, nothing less.
Problem solved; crisis averted.
Why did she feel relieved but a tad sad?
"All that singing made me thirsty!" With no delay, she got up from the floor and left the office. After going down a few flights of stairs, Charlie entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door to grab a can of soda. Cracking the can open, she greedily guzzled more than half the drink down.
Today, the heiress was alone in the hotel. Husk took Niffty to buy some food for fat nuggets while Alastor had some business to tend to. As for Vaggie, hell, she had no clue! Her girlfriend didn't leave a text, stop by her office, or even leave a cute love note on the fridge.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock!
'Strange, I'm not expecting any packages today.' Suddenly, her doe eyes illumined like a sparkling starry sky. Could it be someone responding to the missing person's flyer, or better, could it be Angel returning home?! The gloomy clouds over her head were vanishing, and the smiling sun rays blessed her with hope! 'Oh, be still my heart!' Quick as a bunny, she moved to the entrance door. Still holding the can of soda, she downed the rest of the drink and hastily wrenched the door wide open…
"Heellooo, princess!" Vox mischievously smiled.
For a long moment, she stood there speechless; the shock hit her like a ton of anvils falling on her. Amid drinking, Charlie spat the remaining amount of soda into Vox's screen face and slammed the door. She pivoted around mortified, her face turning blistering red, and covered her mouth. 'Oh. My. Satan! I spit in his face! What the hell is he doing here?!'
As much as she didn't want to open the door, she had no alternative. It's the pragmatic and kindhearted thing a princess would do. 'Maybe if I'm lucky, he left already… yeah, right!' Grabbing the doorknob, she slowly crept the door open, and cautiously her eyes lingered up to the sinner's smiling flat screen face. "I'm so, so sorry! Let me get you a handkerchief."
"… You're too kind; however, there isn't a need for that." The TV Demon casually adjusted his coat.
"Nonsense, please come in, Mr. Vox!" Charlie held to door open for him as he strolled inside, and she closed the door behind them. She tossed the empty can into a small trash can. Rummaging hastily through her pockets, one hand pulled out her smartphone, and the other drew out a white handkerchief. 'I wonder if I should ask him if he needs some screen cleaner. Lemonades and soda pops are sticky drinks. No, that'll just make the conversation more awkward than it should be.'
"Again, I'm really sorry. I-I meant no disrespect." She smiled politely at her guest and offered him the handkerchief. "May I offer you some refreshments? Tea, coffee, or something else?" A thought occurred to her, what if he doesn't consume liquids or food? Does he require batteries or an electrical outlet for energy?
"Why, thank you, my dear princess." The TV Demon raised a brow at her nauseatingly sweet manner, returning her smile with a strained one. "That won't be necessary. I'm not thirsty." Instead of taking the handkerchief, he swiped her smartphone. "I couldn't help but notice you have my latest Vphone!" He moseyed further into the foyer of the hotel. Holding her phone high in the air, he inexplicably tapped on the screen with his thumb.
"My phone! Please—be careful. I'm still paying this one off!" She frantically chased after him, hopping around him like a bunny as she tried to steal back the phone, but to no avail. The heiress never considered herself to be a small fry, but compare to some sinners she's met, it's true. 'Don't take shit from demons, Charlie.' The fallen angel's words echoed in her mind.
"Oh? What happened to your last one?"
"…You know, it was the darndest thing the phone spontaneously combusted!" Charlie jammed the handkerchief into her pocket.
Vox's laugh was short and humorless, passing the Vphone back to her. "I added myself into your contacts, and I even took the liberty to add myself to your friends' lists on several popular social media apps! It's my authentic account too, and not my corporation's account."
She stared at him dumbfounded before offering a half-smile. "Gee… you really shouldn't have." The disgruntled tone didn't match her face, and she shoved the phone into her pocket.
"Your most welcome, my princess!"
"Ahem—so what can I do for your, Mr. Vox?" The princess spoke in an utmost professional manner.
"Don't you remember our little agreement?"
"Agreement?" She puzzlingly tilted her head. "Erm, if I remember correctly, you said if my hotel becomes a hit, you'd consider doing an interview…"
"Correct, but you know what they say, 'times change, people change, situations change, and yet the only thing constant is change!' I'd like to ask you some practice questions before the actual interview. Your highness, are you okay with that?"
"Umm—"
He interrupted. "Splendid! Oh, I should warn you when the actual interview takes place. The camera adds 10 pounds, so you might want to consider holding off on any sweets. First question: what inspired you to come up with this… wondrous idea?" A modern short microphone manifested within his palm.
She bit the inside of her cheeks, and her mind growled, 'What the hell did he call me fat!? He didn't even let me answer!' As always, she blithely smiled and agreed to his whims only if it benefited her cause. "Well, I'd say it started when I was a young girl, and I didn't quite understand what Execution Day meant. My father tried to rationalize the illogical, and the older I became, the more I felt compelled to do something about it. So, to avoid eternal damnation, I came up with the idea of redemption. It's a win-win. No one dies, and it reduces overpopulation."
"I see, I see how very… admirable of you. Second question: why is this important?"
"I know there is some ounce of goodness within everyone, and everyone deserves a chance at happiness in heaven. There are two ways to look at it. You can focus on the bad they did or choose to see the good intent. I think heaven judges too quickly because every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future. No one should have to die again."
'Haha! The downfall of having a good heart is trying to see angels within demons, and they wonder why only the good die young.' This conversation bore him to tears. The only reason he came to this broken-down establishment was because of a particular photo taken outside a coffee shop. The image of Alastor and the princess cozying up together in a coffee shop surfed throughout social media websites. 'So, Alastor is taking residences here? Why and what makes her so special?'
"Third question: what animal best represents you?"
"Animal?" The heiress bewilderedly stared at him; she's not buying this peculiar façade of his any longer. 'He's way too pushy and rude.'
"Mr. Vox, did you come here to interview me, or do you have an ulterior motive?" She virtuously questioned.
Silence.
"Haha—my princess, you see right through me!" The TV sinner's eyes dangerously illuminate. "It's true. I didn't come here to interview you. I'm here to offer you my assistance in running this hotel!"
"Saywhatnow?" She said too quickly, frowning at him suspiciously. He must be under the assumption that she's foolish enough to believe every word coming out of his mouth.
"… Do you think the Radio Demon can better assist you with his backward capabilities compare and my progressive ones?" Vox arrogantly derided. "I have unlimited access to the hottest social media platforms and the television. I could help you advertise your hotel through both means. What can he do besides play with the radio?"
'He can make fun of me as long as he wants, but I will not put up with him disrespecting, Al.' Running her fingers uneasily through her hair, she let out a heavy sigh and duteously smiled. "That's a very generous offer, but I think I have to decline it. Thanks for the consideration!"
Silence.
Vox's unblinking expression was so blank that it made his gaze eerie and her uncomfortable. He slowly loomed closer, frowning down at her. "Then how about we make a deal?" The malefic words oozed out his mouth.
An icy feeling chilled the princess's heart and brought goosebumps to her skin. The scent of danger engulfed the room. She remained motionless; her solemn eyes met his gaze.
"You, tell me where Alastor is, and I'll point you towards Angel. You're looking for him, correct?" The TV Demon lied, drawing out from his pocket Charlie's poster, and unfolded the paper.
At that moment, her eyes involuntarily flashed speckles of optimism, yet warning bells chimed so loud it nearly popped her eardrums. 'So, that's Vox's game.'
"… I think it's best if you leave, please." She announced and attempted to bypass him; however, two levitating illuminate electric cords blocked the pathway to the door. The princess vigilantly crooked her head over the shoulder, and her defiant gaze met his. Her courteousness wore thin, and her father's blood within her seethed. When she blinked, her doe eyes altered, the sclera turned crimson and the iris gold.
"Your highness, I don't think you comprehend the situation you're in. I'm not leaving until you give a sufficient answer."
No reply.
Upon turning the corner towards the hotel, Alastor made only one deal with an unfortunate sinner. It was a very unproductive outing. Every day is different; some days were better than others. It all depended on the individual and how desperate or imprudent they were. On a separate note, he obtained a wild deer from one of his usual hunting grounds. He lugged the dead animal over his shoulder. Blood trickled off the wild animal and onto the pavement. 'This kill will make a swanky stew!'
His mind wandered on the game he established and the events from a few days ago. There were several more unpredicted obstacles in his ultimate scheme. He hadn't anticipated their dance to be as enthralling as it had been. Did he suffer a moment of weakness when he permitted himself to dance with her to the jazz style he grew up with? No, he still was in control.
Lady Luck seemed to be working in a peculiar favor for Charlie. The overlord was confident that the chocolate events in the kitchen would have turned into something more than pounding the dough. If it wasn't for the continuous interruptions. Since that day, he observed a minor change within his plaything; she appeared cautious, not that it mattered or changed anything. If only she came to him to make a sort of deal, she'd be all his. 'Just one more push in the right direction, and my plaything will crack.'
The plan Alastor prudently formulated out like a straight line, instead looped and circled across the line like a rummy failing to walk on the pavement. No matter where the loop turned, the endgame was its last designation. An eerie atmosphere descended upon the hotel, and the revolting smell of cheap cologne filled his nostrils upon arriving at the hotel's door. 'Vox. That no class, pompous fucking prick!' A crimson aura surrounded his entire body and lit the small X scar on his forehead.
"I see why Alastor is so fond of you. You're so entertaining and diverse from the rest of us common folk." Jealously seeped out of the electric sinner's mouth as he slowly approached the princess.
"Who's to say for sure? Alastor is mind bottling; he isn't some one-trick pony." Charlie instinctively backstepped, turning in another direction. 'I don't have the slightest clue what type of relationship these two have.'
"But you're of no use to me."
Silence.
"Yes… now I know what to do with you. Suppose I annihilate your run-down, shabby-looking hotel along with you. Alastor will have no reason to care about you afterward." The two electric cords automatically followed behind him.
The heiress's arms went around her back and within her palms ignited flames. Her heart pounded wildly in anticipation; a little innocent voice reminded her about the repercussions of tussling with an overlord. She wasn't utterly confident she could win and what future damages to the hotel could come from this fight.
In a fraction of a millisecond, the Radio Demon dropped his kill, spatially warping through the cracks of the door his shadowy appearance manifested next to Charlie. Encircling one of his deadly claws around her shoulder, and he tugged her closer to him while the other hand clenched his microphone staff.
Smash!
With an overpowering momentum, he smashed the staff into Vox's screen face. The screen split then shattered, and shards of glass fell onto the carpet. The absentminded sinner idiotically failed to recognize Alastor's imminent presence. He watched the electric demon ungracefully fall backward onto the floor; a sardonic grin crept up.
A strange alien wave of emotion wild Alastor's face. Irritation, detestation, and above all possession. Does this asshole intend on stealing his idea after he already invested incalculable days in scheming? Or did Vox plan on annihilating his plaything before he got the chance to crush her dreams? 'That shithead dares to have the audacity to steal her from me?'
"Al, man, am I glad to see you!" Charlie breathlessly said, a warm smile touched her face, and the flames within her palms extinguished.
The overlord's insidious appearance somewhat softened; his red eyes flickered over to the heiress. "It seems that Niffty neglected to take the g̴̳̲͙̖̳͒̊̈́͘à̸̼̻̖̉r̶͚̬͎͋̈́b̴̭̫̱͉̔́̀̅̚a̶͉̥̘͎̍̿̀ͅǵ̵̨̞̼͊ė̵̻͙ out from last night! I'll have to remind the little dear of her job description." The audience in the background of his voice laughed and clapped.
"Al—tor—you—shit!" Vox's voice cut in and out numerous times due to the injury to his face. The majority of the screen was in fragments, and a colorful technical difficulties screen popped up to replace what's left of his face. Getting slowly off the ground, he unintentionally oscillated around.
"My oh my, it seems you require some repair. Perhaps this wouldn't happen if your screen were better built." He disparaged.
"I'll—get—for—this—words!" The electric sinner body electrified and transmogrified, spatial warping into the flat-screen television.
"Rhatz, I would have thought the snobby piker would have put up more of a challenge!" The Radio Demon sardonically snapped his claws in disappointment.
"Maybe I should unplug the TV, you know, for good measure." The princess proposed.
"Ho—ho, you slay me, my dear! That won't be necessary because that killjoy is too much of a sad sap to rear his ugly face back here anytime soon. Now, since that is all well and good, I must ask, are you unharmed, darling?" The static left his voice, and soothingly he rubbed her shoulder.
"Ya—yeah, I'm fi-fine!" A deep molten raspberry-stained blush spread across her rosy cheeks as his thumb tantalizingly massaged her shoulder. She sunnily smiled; however, her brain knocked on her heart to get out of the clouds! Clearing her throat, she politely plucked his claw off her shoulder.
The Radio Demon lifted a brow quizzically and pressed his lips together to smile. "Thank the heavens. I'm so relieved to hear that! If I may be so bold, I'd like to propose an idea. Since security is my responsibility, I'd like to offer my shadows as a service. They can keep a diligent eye on any potential threats and apprehend them. They'll obey your commands and the staff, such as locking and unlocking doors."
"Really? Yeah, that sounds like an excellent idea!"
"Swell! Now, if you excuse me, I have to get a wiggle on din—"
"Al?" Charlie involuntarily interrupted as he barely made two steps towards the kitchen. She apprehensively rubbed her arm up and down.
"Yes, what's eating you, darling?" Alastor's illumined eyes peered over to meet her doe eyes. He flashed her an infamous yellow-fanged smile.
"As you already know, no one has yet to report Angel's whereabouts… and I'm getting really concerned something might have happened." The heiress frowned; her gaze fell to the floor. For the past few days, uncertainty and desperation festered within her. She finally gazed solemnly up to meet his eyes. "I'm running into dead ends, so what I want to ask is if there's a chance that you can locate Angel's location?"
'Hooked, lined, and sinker.' A dark, egotistical thought echoed through his mind. Straightening his posture, he smoothed out any potential wrinkles from his crimson coat. "Why yes, I most certainly can."
"Then you can help me find him!" She naïvely retorted.
Alastor wagged a claw. "Tch, tch, my dear, don't jump the gun just yet. I detest doing a favor without getting something in return." Unable to resist the temptation, he reached over to grab a supple amount of her adorable rosy cheeks to pinch, and in retaliation, she naturally smiled.
'Right, I should have figured as much. That's why I didn't go to Alastor from the start.' Her face grew wistful, thinking of the spider. It was silly for her to believe and hopelessly trust Alastor to help her without getting anything in return. 'Desperate times call for desperate measures.'
"Let's make a deal. If you help me locate Angel, what do you want in return?"
The overlord suppressed his menacing demeanor in order not to alarm his plaything. Should he ask her about Lucifer's weakness or the seven deadly sins? No, no, no, the price of that information outweighed her request; furthermore, this was the perfect opportunity to claim her. Now, what could he possibly ask that she couldn't repudiate? "A date."
"A date?" Charlie dubiously repeated.
"Yes, a date!" He energetically concurred.
"Can you elaborate on the terms of a date?" She twiddled her fingers behind her back.
A mysterious smile played on his mouth; his eyes held a glint of humor. "Why my sweetheart, I need a date for the hotel's big jamboree, of course!"
"And what would occur on said date?"
"Well, dining and dancing, of course." He clarified.
"That's it?"
"Yes!"
"No hidden clause, or deciphering a hidden message with a decoding ring, or even a paper contract with nanoscopic fine print, which I would need a microscope to read?" She circumspectly inquired to Alastor, a sinner who drove her crazy every other minute of her day.
"Haha—nope! You have my solemn word there are no hidden terms in this agreement." Plucking the monocle off his face to inspect it for any blemishes, he removed a handkerchief from his sinner's pocket to clean it.
Silent.
He positioned the monocle back to his face, flashing open his enigmatic eyes, the pupils contracted into tiny radio dials. "So… do we have a d̵͙̜̖͕̾e̷̘̻̥̖͝a̵͇̻͓̪͊l̶̩̟͕̑͋͑͠?" The overlord's deadly claw extended out towards the heiress, and a greenish mist evoked from their heels swirling around them.
Charlie stared at him, his expression unreadable. Her doe eyes glanced down to his deal maker's hand. Deep in thought, she struggled on her next move and undetermined what to do. Find Angel or abandon him. 'It's just a harmless date… I can do that.'
Without a moment to spare, she placed her petite hand upon his, and he curled his claw around her hand. "When do we start?" The heiress smiled up at him, feeling a sudden need for levity.
He conceitedly smiled knowingly, in a way that suggested their relationship went further than business partners, and he answered. "Now."