The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes
Chapter 63- You’re a freak

Chapter 63: Chapter 63- You’re a freak

The motorcycle roared as it shot up the overpass, weaving through traffic like a phantom. When they dropped down onto a side road, Janet glanced back—

the red Ferrari that had been tailing them was nowhere in sight.

Manfred didn’t slow down. In fact, the bike only picked up more speed. Janet, clutching him tightly, shouted something into the wind, unsure if he heard her. With a sharp turn, they veered off into a narrow path. When the bike finally skidded to a stop, the vast ocean stretched out before them, waves crashing violently against the shore.

Janet could barely stand when Manfred lifted her off the bike. Her legs buckled as soon as they touched the ground.

"You should have more faith in my skills. I’m a racing legend, after all," Manfred said with a grin, helping her sit on a rock by the shore.

Her face was pale as paper, her long, silky hair a tangled mess in the sea breeze. Manfred reached out gently, tucking the loose strands behind her ear. When she curled up, shivering with her arms around herself, he leaned back against her and let his body warmth wrap around her.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Janet’s heart began to thaw.

"Thank you..." she murmured, still unsure who those people were. But she had her suspicions. Charles had warned her never to trust strangers. And those men... They’d definitely come for her.

"It’s been a while, Janet," Manfred said softly, tilting his head against her back. "And yet, you still manage to surprise me."

The salty breeze carried the faint scent of her perfume, igniting something strange and primal in his chest.

"What about Peggy and August? Why are you the only one here?" Janet finally asked, her voice barely louder than the waves. In the chaos, she had only seen Manfred. Was it a coincidence? Or had he come here on purpose?

"I came for you," he replied simply. "If I hadn’t shown up, you’d be in their hands by now."

There was no arrogance in his voice, just calm certainty. Janet couldn’t see the gentle smile on his face—relieved, genuine. She only felt the wind brushing against her cheeks as his words sank in, quieting the storm in her heart.

"Are you cold?" he asked, voice low.

The sea breeze cut through her thin jacket. Janet closed her eyes, leaning against him—until she felt his breath suddenly near her face. She opened her eyes in alarm—Manfred’s striking features were inches away.

Her body reacted before her mind could. She jumped to her feet—only to trip and fall back hard.

"You seem terrified of me getting close." His smile remained, but something behind his eyes darkened. "Care to explain why?"

"I–I’m not!" Janet forced herself to stay calm, brushing off the sand as she stood again.

But when she lowered her head to avoid his burning gaze, Manfred reached out and seized her delicate chin. His expression twisted into something darker—something she’d never seen before.

His eyes were ruthless.

"In a place this deserted... if I forced myself on you, do you think Charles would still want you afterward?"

Manfred’s smile was twisted—almost bloodthirsty. But what terrified Janet more was the strange devotion in his eyes. She froze, paralyzed with shock.

Her lips parted slightly—soft, trembling, almost inviting. Manfred leaned down and claimed them without hesitation. The taste of her was unfamiliar, intoxicating. In less than a second, Janet erupted, struggling with all her might to push him off.

"Manfred! What the hell are you doing?!"

She backed away, panic flooding her chest. In his dark, unhinged eyes, she could see the reflection of her own fear. He wasn’t the Manfred she thought she knew. When she tried to run, clutching at her collar, he grabbed her arm.

That lonely smile of his echoed across the vast, empty shore—making her blood run cold.

"Don’t be afraid, Janet," he said softly. "Whatever Charles can give you, I can too. And the things he can’t... I can still give them to you. Be mine."

His fingers brushed over her lips, lingering. That familiar scent he’d ignored for so long—how could she still make his heart race like this?

He didn’t know anymore. Was it desire? Or something deeper?

Why her? Why did she make him feel this way?

"Manfred, let go of me! You’re insane!"

Her forehead slammed into his chest, firm and unyielding. He smelled of smoke—thick, heavy, masculine. It was jarring, so different from the clean, refined scent Charles always carried. Janet flinched and tried to pull away. But Manfred’s grip tightened around her wrist.

His eyes—cold, sharp like steel mesh—locked her in place.

He was unpredictable. Dangerous.

Janet’s thoughts spun, replaying everything he’d just said. She glanced around—nothing but the endless sea and a shore void of life. No one was coming. No one could hear her.

He really might...

"Don’t come any closer! Stay away from me, you psycho!" Janet screamed, eyes shut tight. She didn’t even want to imagine what kind of twisted things he might do to her if he truly lost control. If that happened... she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

"Psycho? Now that hurts, Janet." Manfred let out a breathless laugh, watching her trembling body slump toward the sand.

He reached out and caught her gently.

But when his eyes fell to her neck, he saw it—vivid marks, fresh and crimson, left behind by Charles the night before.

Jealousy flared like a wildfire in his chest, and the darkness in his gaze deepened. But when he heard what Janet said next...

His heart began to freeze.

"You like men. You’re a freak! A total lunatic! Let me go, you sick bastard!"

Janet thrashed in his grip, kicking and struggling, doing everything she could to break free. But then—she saw it.

That flash of sadness in Manfred’s eyes. So quick, so subtle, but unmistakably real.

Her breath caught.

He hadn’t hurt her. Not really. In fact, he’d saved her earlier. Had protected her. Maybe she’d gone too far...

Sure enough, at the sting of her words, Manfred’s arms suddenly fell away from her. He let her go.

His expression had turned to ice.

Janet didn’t move. Didn’t run. For a long moment, she just stared at him. Then he dropped to the ground like something broken—like a wounded beast retreating from battle. Strands of hair slipped over his face, hiding his eyes.

But Janet could still see it—the pain.

"Janet... you figured it out, didn’t you?"

His quiet voice struck something deep inside her. Manfred—usually so carefree, always smirking, always mocking—was now silent and still. And in that stillness, Janet realized: there was so much she didn’t know about this man.

So many secrets hiding behind his perfect smile.

A man like him... with such unusual desires... that wasn’t normal, was it?

"Manfred... you and August... are you both gay?" she asked hesitantly, sitting down beside him. She didn’t care about the consequences anymore—she needed to know.

He didn’t flinch.

"No," he said calmly. "We just hate women."

Manfred turned to face her, his eyes sharp, focused. Janet’s heart twisted. There was no anger there—just a strange, quiet bitterness. And yet her innocent, wide eyes still held sympathy.

That, he thought bitterly, was the most ridiculous part of all.

"You want to know why?" he asked.

The grin returned to his lips—cocky, playful, that familiar mask sliding back into place. It was as if the man who’d spoken a moment ago had never existed.

Janet nodded slowly.

Above them, the once-clear sky began to darken, as if a storm were gathering just beyond the horizon.

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