Hellbound With You – Chapter 1

Chapter 1 — Take Me There

“Mr. Qin, I really love you!” a woman’s voice echoed in the dim, concrete underground garage. Abigail startled — her phone nearly slipped from her hand.

She had been walking toward her car. Who would have thought she’d witness a confession in a place this cold and shadowed?

“What did you say?” a cold, husky voice asked. Even though the man wasn’t speaking to her, Abigail flinched. His tone was intimidating — heartlessly so. What sounded like a romantic confession felt, somehow, like a terrible misunderstanding.

“I said I love you,” the woman replied, voice trembling. “I love you so much. I fell for you the first time I saw you.”

Abigail held her breath waiting for his answer. Silence stretched, then at last he spoke.

“Is that all?”

Abigail gasped inwardly. Wah… he’s so cruel.

“W-what?” the woman stammered, stunned.

“Tell me, what do you want?”

“I… I’ve been in love with you since the beginning. I’ve been your girl for two months now, but you never said how you felt about me. Mr. Qin, I— all I want is… I just want you to love me back.”

The woman’s voice was on the verge of breaking. The man did not soften; if anything, he grew more menacing.

“We’re done,” he said casually, without a trace of warmth.

“W-w-what? I won’t repeat myself.”

“W-why? Mr. Qin, what are you saying? This is not— the contract said I would be your girl for three months! It’s only been two months—” she protested.

“Miss Song… didn’t you properly read the contract?” his voice went colder, almost harsh. “Cheng, come read the clause she didn’t read.”

Abigail’s heart froze. A contract? What were they saying?

She wanted to leave, but if she moved they’d see her. So she stayed hidden and listened, stunned.

“Miss Song, here is one of the two conditions from that contract,” another man said. “The contracted girlfriend can demand anything except one thing: love or affection. Once the contracted girlfriend demands to be loved in return, the contract automatically becomes null and void.”

Abigail could hardly believe it. She peeked. The woman on her knees — hands flying to her mouth — was Ina Song. Ina Song? The famous actress? Why would she beg for a man’s love? Worse — a contract? The entertainment world would be shaken if this came out.

Abigail’s eyes shifted to the man, but he had his back to her. “I warned you long ago. I don’t do love and never will. And you, of all people, should be well aware of how I deal with anyone who breaks a condition in the contract.” His words drained the color from Ina Song’s face. She was dragged toward a car by a bulky man in black. When their car drove away, Abigail snapped back into herself and hid again.

Then a voice cut through the night. “Come out. I know you’re there. NOW!”

She froze. He was speaking to her. She knew from his tone he didn’t repeat himself. Holding her breath, she stepped out.

“Come over,” he commanded. Abigail lifted her face, nerves jangling. She had never felt this scared — or this small.

When their eyes met she nearly gaped. The man was stunning — “good-looking” was a gross understatement. He was taller than average, with inky dark hair swept back, a strong, defined jaw — perfection. No wonder Ina Song had begged for him. But his gaze was hostile, murderous even. If looks could kill, his would have done it.

“Who are you? A paparazzo?” he snapped. Abigail recoiled at the coldness in his voice. His eyes glittered like knives.

“No, I’m not.” She shook her head, but his gaze narrowed and he took a step toward her. Each of his steps felt like a ticking bomb, but she managed to stand her ground despite trembling knees.

When he stopped less than a meter away, Abigail bit her lower lip. He scrutinized her like prey — beautiful, but dangerous.

“Little lamb… did you hear everything?” he asked. His gaze was deadlier than any dagger.

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to—” Abigail began, and the man raised a hand toward her neck. She shut her eyes, thinking he would strangle her.

He didn’t. Slowly she opened her eyes.

He wasn’t focused on strangling her; he was fiddling with the edge of her bright yellow knitted scarf. For a moment, the glaciers in his eyes seemed to melt into a calm blankness.

“Yellow…” he murmured, then dropped his hand. The harshness returned to his face. “Go home,” he said, and turned to leave.

Abigail exhaled. She should run now, thankful to be spared. But she stood frozen, watching his retreating, graceful figure.

Clenching her fists until her knuckles went white, she called out, “Wait, mister — please wait!”

The chauffeur had already opened the car door. He glanced over without turning.

“What?” he replied.

Fearless now, adrenaline replacing fear, Abigail walked toward him. Her knees steadied; the terror in her eyes became resolve.

“Was everything you said true? That you don’t do love?” she asked, standing less than a meter behind him. “Are you really sure you’ll never fall for anyone?”

He turned, dark gray eyes assessing her with disbelief — then interest.

“From what I understand, you’re willing to be someone’s girlfriend so long as she won’t demand love in return, right?” she pressed.

Silence. He stared at her through narrowed eyes, as if she were some impossible creature.

“Why are you asking?” he said, lips curving in a wicked, amused smile.

“I’m just curious. Is it true?” she said, calm — eerily so.

“And if it is? And if it isn’t?” He chuckled, a low sound that made him look devilish.

“Do you really believe you’ll never fall for anyone? Ever?” she asked.

He laughed, cruel and cool. “Yellow, tell me. What exactly are you trying to say?” He touched the scarf at her throat again, amusement flickering in his expression.

“I… I’m just saying I don’t think you’ll be an exception. Maybe you just haven’t met the person with an axe to pry your heart open.”

“Little Yellow, are you saying you want to try me?” he teased.

Abigail hesitated a moment, then nodded. Her eyes were steady and decisive.

He laughed. She tried to look serious, but her intensity only amused him more.

“Are you perhaps thinking you could make me fall in love? Too bad, Yellow… countless women have already tried. Besides… I don’t think you’re capable of that.” His eyes traveled from her head to her toes.

“And you heard me correctly: I don’t do love. Never. So don’t waste your brain cells thinking about it.” His voice smoldered despite the smile.

Abigail remained unfazed. “How about you try me? I promise I will not demand you love me back.” She raised her hand like a girl scout; he laughed again.

“Yellow, you’re such a brave little girl.” His smile faded and a hard edge crept into his voice.

“Please stop calling me Yellow! My name is Abigail. I’m not a little girl. I’m about to turn twenty-two.”

His expression shifted; he chuckled. The sound seemed to hang in the air.

“Indeed, you are one brave little girl, Yellow. Do you know who I am?”

“No.”

“And yet you’re still here, blindly offering yourself?”

She nodded. He smirked, licked his lips, and stepped forward. His long finger lifted her chin.

“Little lamb, let me tell you this: you’re standing before the gates of hell right now. Doing this means ruining your life. Are you ready to step down into hell with me?” His eyes blazed; the warning in them was real.

His intensity made her shiver, but she did not back down. She had never been this brave — or this reckless. She imagined the possible outcomes and the terror of each, but what frightened her more was the thought of her current life without something like this.

His lips curved into a mocking, triumphant smile. He ruffled her hair and leaned in.

“Hell is not a good place, at least not for a little lamb like you. I’m sure you know that. Run away while this demon king is still being nice and calm,” he whispered, then turned to leave.

After three steps, Abigail stopped him once more. “The hell you’re talking about…” she murmured. “I… I’d like to see it for myself. Take me there.”