Roy was jolted awake by the sound of his phone ringing in the morning.
Glancing at the screen, he saw it was Marianne Megan, the blonde news anchor.
"Mr. Black, I've secured the live TV interview slot. When can you come by ABC studios to meet me?"
"Oh, sorry, Ms. Megan. I'm actually planning to cancel this interview."
Roy's voice was a bit loud while taking the call, waking up Eluresa.
Seeing Roy on the phone, the little succubus immediately slipped under the covers.
Truly daddy's little sweetheart—so thoughtful.
"Mr. Black, we had an agreement! Why are you backing out now?"
"Listen, Ms. Megan, our deal was that you'd help me handle the PR mess. That was the basis of our cooperation. But now? I don't need your help with that anymore!"
On the other end, Marianne gritted her teeth. She'd had a bad feeling when she saw the news over the past couple of days.
She'd hoped to lock things down quickly, but Roy had been MIA for two or three days, derailing her plans.
Now, she could only try sweet-talking him to stick to their agreement.
"Mr. Black, even if the PR issue is resolved, there's no need to cancel the live interview! It could boost your public image…"
Roy, enjoying Eluresa's attentive "service," responded to Marianne halfheartedly.
Marianne talked herself dry on the phone while Eluresa, well, was running out of steam too.
"Mr. Black, would you be willing to come to ABC studios tomorrow?"
"Uh, uh, huh? Next time, for sure!"
With that, Roy hung up and pressed Eluresa's head gently. "Eluresa, keep going! Don't stop!"
Marianne was fuming on the other end. After ten minutes of buttering him up, all she got was a brush-off.
She'd have preferred if he'd just hung up from the start.
Marianne felt like her "headlights" had grown a couple sizes from sheer frustration!
"Marianne, did Roy Black turn you down?" Franklin asked, knowing full well the answer, earning a death glare from her.
Mike patted Franklin's shoulder. "Frank, enough. Marianne, I told you Roy Black's not an easy guy to deal with. Just give up on him."
Marianne's eyes blazed as she shot up and slammed the table.
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"I, Marianne Megan, refuse to fail with the same guy so many times! No matter what it takes, I'm going to nail Roy Black!"
With that, she stormed out, slamming the door.
Mike and Franklin exchanged a look.
"What now, Mike? Marianne's lost it!"
"What am I supposed to do? Get on my knees and beg Roy Black to do her interview?"
"That's not a bad idea!"
"Get lost! You go if you want. Maybe you can pull the race card and guilt him into it!"
"Nah, I'm good. I'm scared Roy Black might punch me out—he's a Texan, man!"
"No way, he'd just drag you to Texas to pick cotton. You'd get fried chicken and watermelon out of it."
Franklin, enraged, grabbed Mike by the neck, and the two started brawling in front of everyone.
Still seething after storming out, Marianne felt an overwhelming need to vent but had no one to turn to.
Mike and Franklin, being guys, weren't quite right for heart-to-hearts, and she didn't have any close male friends either.
Then she remembered Adela, the college girl she'd met before.
Adela was a kind, innocent student—maybe the perfect person to listen.
So, Marianne dug out Adela's contact info and made the call.
"Hello, Adela? It's Marianne. You free right now?"
Adela's voice came through, hushed. "Marianne? I'm in class, but it's almost over. Can you wait a few minutes?"
"Sure, I'll be at XXX Café."
"Alright, I'll hang up now."
An hour later, Adela showed up at the café in workout clothes, sweating like she'd run the whole way.
It fit her vibe—taxis in America aren't cheap, and a college girl from a regular family probably couldn't afford them often.
"Sorry, Marianne! I kept you waiting!"
"No worries, just the time it takes to sip a coffee."
After waiting an hour, Marianne's mood had calmed a bit, but her urge to vent hadn't faded—if anything, it was stronger.
For some reason, seeing Adela made her want to spill everything.
So, Marianne poured out her frustrations and ranted about Roy Black's behavior.
"Adela, how can there be a guy like that in this world? He's driving me nuts!"
The more she talked, the angrier she got. Adela, sitting across from her, just smiled the whole time, perfectly fine being Marianne's emotional dumping ground.
"Marianne, do you really want to take down Roy Black that badly?"
Marianne paused. "Adela, what do you mean?"
"Nothing, just curious about what's in your heart."
Adela's words felt a bit odd, but Marianne didn't dwell on it.
"Of course I want to take him down! I, Marianne Megan, won't accept this kind of failure!"
She didn't hesitate to own it.
"No matter the cost?"
Adela's questions were getting weirder, but Marianne was too riled up to think straight.
"No matter the cost!"
Adela flashed a sweet smile and slid a piece of paper across to Marianne.
"In that case, sign this contract. I can help you deal with Roy Black!"
Marianne's expression turned dazed, a nagging feeling that something was off.
But Adela's smile was so disarming that Marianne couldn't think clearly.
Glancing at the paper, she saw it was covered in strange, unreadable text that seemed to pulse with an odd, captivating power.
"Marianne, just sign your name. Once you do, I'll help make your dream come true!"
Adela's voice sounded like it was coming from far away, lulling Marianne into a trance.
"Just sign my name, and I can handle Roy Black?"
"Absolutely! Sign it!"
Adela handed her a quill pen. Marianne took it mechanically and scrawled her name on the paper.
Instantly, the paper burst into flames, leaving no ash behind.
Marianne collapsed onto the table, unconscious.
The commotion drew a waiter's attention. "Ma'am, what happened?"
"Nothing, my friend just had too much to drink. I'm taking her home now."
"Drinking in the middle of the day?"
"She got dumped."
The explanation was solid enough, and the waiter caught a whiff of alcohol, so he didn't press further.
Adela helped Marianne out of the café.
Unbeknownst to them, someone had witnessed the whole thing: Gretchen Henderson, Marianne's longtime rival.
Gretchen had seen Marianne rush out of the studio, assuming she was chasing a big scoop, so she'd tailed her to the café.
As a seasoned journalist, Gretchen was a pro at staying under the radar, so Marianne never noticed her.
Then Gretchen saw the surreal scene unfold and hid behind a newspaper, too scared to move.
Once Adela left with Marianne, Gretchen paid her bill and bolted.
As soon as she was out of the café, she pulled out her phone and dialed.
"Hey, Lydia, it's Gretchen! I'm in some trouble and might need your help!"
"Is it urgent? I'm prepping for tonight's show and might not have time."
"It's super urgent! I—"
Before Gretchen could explain, someone stepped in front of her.
"Who're you calling?"
Looking up, Gretchen saw Adela, the very person she feared most.
It made sense—Gretchen was just a regular person. There was no way she could evade a succubus like Adela's senses.
Adela hadn't acted earlier because she was busy handling Marianne. Now, with her hands free, she could deal with Gretchen.
"Hey, Gretchen? What's going on? Why aren't you talking?"
Seconds later, all that remained was a phone on the ground, a woman's voice still coming through.
But on the busy street, no one stopped to pick it up. Everyone had their own lives to live—no one paused for a stranger.
---
Switching to Lilith's perspective…
Lilith had evaded the Netherworld Police with her old friend Dorothy and returned to the human world. They were now at Jennifer's house in Fallwater Town.
Fallwater Town was becoming quite the hotspot for talent.
The two swamp witches, Misty and Wendy, were holed up at Sawyer Manor. Isabella, Michael's former human vessel, was staying at the town's small chapel.
Drassa, a former Amacham Company sniper, had been released by General Hammer not long after Bartholomew's death and had opened a little café in Fallwater Town.
Add in the folks temporarily away, and it was practically an all-star lineup!
"The world's changed so much," Dorothy mused, staring out the window.
Since there was no needle and thread, Lilith had used a stapler to patch Dorothy's body back together.
The staple marks were obvious, but Dorothy's beauty remained, now with a touch of eerie charm.
"You were sealed for 500 years. Plus, the last hundred years of human progress outstrips the previous few thousand combined," Lilith replied.
After a moment of thought, Dorothy turned to Lilith, who was elegantly lounging on the sofa.
"Lilith, what do you need me for?"
Lilith's smile was sly, the kind that screamed "old friend, watch your back."
"Come on, can't I just have missed my old pal and come to rescue you after gaining my freedom?"
Dorothy gave a cold smirk. She was from roughly the same era as Lilith, just debuting a few years later.
Lilith was the Witch of Desire, while Dorothy was the Death Witch.
Both had survived from ancient times through the Great Flood, their powers evenly matched.
But after the Flood, Lilith was betrayed by her daughter Ophelia, existing as a specter for millennia until Roy recently helped her regain a body—albeit a puppet one.
Dorothy had been luckier, only getting taken down 500 years ago when she was chopped to bits.
Fortunately, as a Death Witch, she was immortal—not on Cain's level, but not something ordinary means could kill.
So, she'd been sealed in a corner of the Netherworld. Without Lilith, who knows when she'd have broken free.
Dorothy tilted her chin at Lilith. "We've known each other long enough. No need for games. What's your goal?"
Lilith's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Of course there's a need. How do I know 500 years of being sealed didn't drive you nuts?"
That struck a nerve. Dorothy's 500 years of conscious confinement in a tiny wooden box were a nightmare.
"Did you free me just to rub that in?"
Seeing Dorothy's temper flare, Lilith shifted gears. "I do need your help with something."
Lilith revealed her goal.
As a Death Witch, Dorothy was a master of death and soul magic.
Lilith needed her to expel Ophelia's soul from her body so she could reclaim it.
"So that's it," Dorothy said, relieved.
Back in her prime, this would've been a breeze for her. But after 500 years of being sealed, her powers were severely depleted.
"Lilith, I can help you, but my strength's not what it used to be. I need to recharge. Plus, I've got a score to settle with the guy who sealed me. Can you help with that?"
Lilith raised an eyebrow. "The one who sealed you?"
Dorothy's beautiful face twisted with rage. "Yeah, him! Lilith, you help me, I help you. Deal?"
Lilith grinned. "Exactly what I was thinking!"