Becoming Lailah: Married to my Twin Sister's Billionaire Husband-Chapter 110: The Devil at the Door

ELIN SHOOK HER HEAD, sobbing harder. "You don’t know what he’ll do. If he finds me missing, it’ll be worse. For me. For everyone."

Mailah’s throat tightened, her fury barely containing itself. "So what—you’d rather let him drain you until you’re nothing? Because that’s what’s happening, isn’t it? You’re chained to him like a—" She bit down on the word slave, but the silence said it anyway.

Elin crumpled. "He needs me. He said he needed me."

Mailah’s chest ached.

She wanted to shake her, to scream at her, to demand she see the truth. But instead she pulled Elin into a rough embrace. The girl was so slight in her arms, trembling like a bird trying to convince itself its cage was safe.

Her own dizziness returned, but she held Elin tighter. "Then maybe he needs you more than you need him. And that, Elin, is your power. Don’t give it to him so easily."

The woman sobbed into her shoulder. "I don’t know how."

Mailah closed her eyes, fury and helplessness clashing in her chest. "I’ll find a way to help you. But not if you walk back into that room."

The music outside pulsed louder, bass vibrating through the marble walls. Every note felt like a countdown.

And Mailah realized—time was running out.

Varrow would notice. The Ashfords would notice. And if Grayson didn’t break free from whatever frenzy had taken him—then she and Elin were on their own.

The music’s throb through the walls was no longer music at all—it was a pulse, steady and suffocating, like the mansion itself was alive and waiting.

Mailah could feel it in her teeth.

Elin’s sobs had quieted to hiccups, but her trembling hadn’t stopped. The woman’s fingers dug into Mailah’s sleeve with desperate strength.

Mailah smoothed her hair back from her clammy forehead, whispering, "We’ll wait here a little longer. Just until—"

A sound.

Not the pounding bass. Not the laughter breaking through marble.

A click.

The sound of leather shoes on stone.

Mailah’s breath froze.

She turned her head toward the door, pulse hammering so hard it made her ears ring.

The lock rattled.

Elin’s grip tightened painfully. "No," she mouthed, eyes wide, the word breaking soundlessly from her lips. "He—"

The bolt scraped, twisted—metal protesting like it didn’t want to give way. And then, impossibly, it slid open.

The door swung inward, slow, deliberate. Whoever stood on the other side hadn’t forced it—they’d known exactly how to undo it.

Lord Varrow stepped in.

The withered demon filled the threshold like a shadow come alive. His frame was draped in dark velvet that seemed to drink every fleck of light, his skin stretched over too-sharp bones, his hands long and skeletal. His eyes gleamed, sunken and rimmed with shadow, glowing faint with the hunger of something that had waited centuries.

And when he smiled, it was ruinous—half-mockery, half-threat.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, voice rasping like gravel dragged across glass, but colored with amusement.

His gaze flicked from Elin, clinging to Mailah like a drowning girl to driftwood, to Mailah herself, rigid and upright. "What a treat to find you here."

Elin whimpered. The sound cracked through the air like glass. She tried to shrink back, but there was nowhere to go.

Mailah’s heart lurched into her throat. She forced a brittle smile, forcing her voice steady. "We were just—taking a break. Too much wine, too much... atmosphere. We’ll be back in the ballroom shortly." She stood, carefully putting herself a half-step in front of Elin. "Grayson’s waiting for me."

She said his name like it was armor.

Varrow’s brows lifted, the lines of his face deepening with sinister amusement. "Ah, Grayson Ashford. Yes." His grin widened, though it never reached his eyes. "How curious. Because I could have sworn I saw him a moment ago... otherwise occupied." He tilted his head. "Quite occupied, in fact."

Mailah’s stomach dropped.

Varrow’s laugh was a hollow thing, like a tomb opening. "For a moment, I thought the woman with him was you. But no. Seeing you here now, I realize he’s found other company. And perhaps forgotten you entirely."

Elin broke. Her sobs spilled out, raw and shaking, her hands pressed against her mouth as though to smother them.

Mailah forced her spine straighter, though her knees felt like they’d snap under the weight of his gaze. She made her voice light, dismissive. "You don’t know Grayson very well if you think he forgets so easily."

"Oh," Varrow purred, stepping farther into the room, "but I do know him. Far better than you, little bird. And if I’m right—he’s too far gone to remember anything but hunger."

The words slithered into her, finding the crack of fear she’d tried to cover.

Mailah clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. Don’t let him see you shake. Don’t let him win.

"I suppose," Varrow went on, voice softening to a parody of kindness, "that leaves the two of you... alone."

He reached out, fingers curling lazily toward Elin as if she were already his again.

Elin crumpled against Mailah, choking out, "Please—please, don’t—"

Mailah shoved her behind her, pulse roaring. "Stop. She’s not—she’s not yours."

Varrow’s eyes lit with grotesque delight. "Not mine? Oh, darling girl. Everything I touch is mine, whether it remembers or not."

He stepped closer, the air around him warping with a heat that wasn’t heat at all—it was hunger, desire, despair, all braided into a suffocating fog.

Mailah’s skin crawled with it. The memory of the ballroom’s drugging haze surged back, clawing at her veins.

"Stay back," Mailah said, her voice breaking against the weight of him.

Varrow chuckled. "Or what? You’ll glare me into submission?"

The truth—she had nothing. No weapon, no trick, no magic. Just fear.

And maybe a little stupidity.

Mailah forced her chin up. "Grayson will come for me."

The words hung in the air like a challenge. Like a prayer.

Varrow laughed, the sound cold and triumphant. "Oh, child. If that’s your only hope, then you’re already lost."

He lunged.

Mailah shoved Elin back with all her strength and stumbled sideways, crashing into the marble sink.

She scrambled, heart pounding, her eyes darting wildly for anything—a shard of glass, a candlestick, something.

Varrow’s hand shot out, claw-like, and caught her wrist. His grip was ice and fire all at once, burning down her arm.

Mailah gasped, struggling, nails scraping against his sleeve. "Let—me—go!"

Elin screamed.

Varrow leaned close, breath like rot and smoke, his grin widening as he inhaled against her skin. "Ah," he murmured, "you smell like fear. But underneath... something sweeter."

Her knees buckled. She yanked back with everything she had, but his strength was a mountain.

"Such spirit," he whispered, his tongue darting against his lips. "I’ll savor it."

The room blurred. Her heart slammed. And for the first time, she thought—this is it. This is how I die.

Then—

"Unhand her."

The voice was quiet, but it carried a chill sharp enough to freeze the air.

Varrow froze.

Mailah’s head snapped toward the door.

Grayson!

He stood there, framed by the golden light spilling from the hall, his suit disheveled, his silver-lit eyes burning like stormfire. His jaw was set, his shoulders taut, every line of his body screaming barely-contained violence.

For a heartbeat, no one breathed.

Varrow’s grin returned, slower this time. "Ah. Speak of the devil."

Grayson’s smile was razor-thin. "That’s not the title you want to test me on tonight."

He stepped forward, each stride a promise.

Mailah’s breath hitched. Relief, terror, and something hotter tangled in her chest, burning her alive.

Varrow tightened his grip on her wrist, forcing her to gasp. "Too late, boy. She’s mine now."

"Funny," Grayson said, his voice low and lethal. "Because last I checked—" He closed the distance, silver eyes locked on Varrow like a predator—"she was under my protection."

The room snapped, tension slicing it apart.

Mailah’s heart thundered as Varrow and Grayson stared each other down, her body trapped between them, the danger thick enough to choke on.

And all she could think—absurd, furious, terrified—was that she had never wanted to kiss Grayson more in her life.

Mailah’s pulse hammered so violently she thought her ribs might crack with the force of it.

Varrow’s skeletal grip locked her in place, the sting of his claws biting into her wrist, cold and searing all at once. The mocking smile on his face never wavered, even with Grayson’s presence thickening the air like a coming storm.

Elin had collapsed against the far wall, her face pale, her hands over her mouth to stop her sobbing. The girl’s eyes were round and wet, locked on Grayson as though salvation had finally come. But fear radiated off her in waves. She didn’t believe rescue was possible—not from Varrow.

Grayson’s gaze flicked to Mailah, quick but searing, and her knees nearly gave out under the weight of it. The storm in his eyes was worse than Varrow’s hunger.

Worse, and far more intoxicating. His silver irises caught the dim candlelight, glowing like molten mercury.

He looked at her like she was both the most fragile thing in the room—and the only one worth fighting for.

Varrow chuckled low in his throat, dragging her closer until her shoulder pressed against his chest. "Oh, how touching. The Ashford boy wants to play hero." His voice coiled around the words like smoke. "But you’re a little late, aren’t you? Look at her. Shaking already. She’s half-mine."

Grayson’s smile didn’t move. But the air in the room shifted—denser, sharper, like static crawling over skin.

Mailah sucked in a breath. She’d felt his temper before, simmering under control. This was different. This was something breaking loose.

"Let her go," Grayson said. His voice was velvet over steel. "Before I make you."

Varrow’s eyes glinted, amused. "Make me?" His hand slid higher up Mailah’s arm, his long fingers curling possessively over her shoulder.

She flinched but held her head high, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cower.

Her voice, though trembling, cut through the air. "I told you—Grayson will come for me."

Varrow bent his head, his rancid breath brushing her ear. "And I told you," he whispered, too soft for Elin but sharp enough for Grayson to hear, "he forgets."

Grayson’s composure cracked, just barely—the twitch of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils. His steps forward were slower now, deliberate, a predator drawing out the moment before the kill.

Mailah’s wrist burned under Varrow’s grip, every nerve screaming to pull away. But she couldn’t—not when Varrow’s nails threatened to slice her open with one wrong move.

The silence stretched, heavy, taut as wire.

And then—

Varrow’s grin widened. "Tell me, boy. What will you give me for her?"

Mailah’s stomach dropped.

"No," she rasped, twisting against his hold. "Don’t—don’t answer him—"

Grayson’s silver gaze never left Varrow’s face. His voice came quiet, dangerous. "You’re not walking out of this room with her."

"Oh?" Varrow hissed, dragging her flush against his chest. His claws dug deeper, enough to make her gasp. "Then perhaps... I’ll take her blood here and now. A gift for your failure."

The heat of his mouth hovered just above her throat.

Mailah froze, panic slamming through her veins. Elin screamed her name.

Grayson moved—so fast she couldn’t follow—silver eyes blazing.

The room exploded into motion. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

And Mailah could only think—if he’s too late, this is the end.