*The song for this chapter is Raise Hell - Dorothy.*

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*TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter contains violent themes and blood. If any of these themes trigger you then please don't read on & stay safe!*

Celeste

Harry was right.

I am just existing.

Surviving.

Depriving myself in order to keep those around me watered.

I'm not living.

That night in Sinners was the closest I've felt to the living in a long time; it had nothing to do with what happened in that dimly lit red lounge upstairs in the club either. It had everything to do with the pure adrenaline of the molly mixed with stabbing that cunt in the leg for touching Lana.

It was also the closest I've felt to being me.

Truly, unapologetically myself.

I am messy, impulsive, and I do lack any sense of rationality because I act on emotion. That's what makes me Celeste Andrea Delgado. That's who I am.

Why am I trying to numb myself to fit in with the mold that's been sculpted for me by Papa?

Being expected to fulfill a legacy is the most draining thing to have to experience; it's dimming your light and depriving yourself of everything that makes you happy just to end up sitting in the dark with nobody there to switch your light back on. You end up searching for a release in anything that can give you a sense of escapism; drugs, alcohol, sex.

Danger.

The danger is my release.

As I sat on the edge of my bed pulling on my high-heeled knee-high boots, I couldn't stop the smirk from playing on the corners of my lips as I caught sight of my knife on the bedside table. The blade was glistening in all of its beauty under the lighting that was shining through my bedroom table, the leather holster that was under my dress was ready for the knife to take its rightful place. Zipping up my boots, I knew I was ready to put the final pieces of my look together. I was wearing a simple black bodycon dress that hugged my curvaceous hips and thighs perfectly; I knew my body in every possible way, I knew how to work with everything that I had. Collecting the blade from the bedside table, I slotted it perfectly into its place in the leather holster before making my way over to the vanity mirror and examining the outcome. My makeup was simple, a simple cherry red lip bringing it all together perfectly in contrast with my jet black hair.

I looked fucking sexy.

A slow smile spread across my face as I added my hooped earrings, a pair of black leather gloves, and a simple silver necklace with a 'C' on it before I grabbed my clutch bag off my bed. Ensuring that I had everything I needed before I left, I blew a kiss to myself in my mirror before I placed my sunglasses on my face.

I was fucking doing this.

I made my way out of my house and to my sleek black BMW that was parked outside of the entrance gates, using my keys to unlock the vehicle before I slid myself inside and placing my bag on the passenger seat. I turned the key in the ignition and heard the engine roar to life whilst I pulled my seatbelt over my body and clicked it into place. Placing both of my hands on the wheel, I smiled to myself as I stepped on the gas and away from the house. I could feel the adrenaline already begin to course through my veins as I sped down the freeway towards my location; I took a hand off the wheel to wind down my window, the feeling of the wind against my skin being an absolute dream at that moment. I flexed my knuckles on the wheel as I felt myself getting closer to the location; I fully knew that this is what I needed to do.

I knew who I am.

The Los Angeles sun was beginning to set in the sky, a warm orange colour spreading across the horizon as I sped my way down the busy roads to get to my destination. It was late afternoon on a Friday and the streets of Los Angeles were beginning to fill with people ready to commit their weekends worth of sins before returning to their normal mundane lives come Monday morning. I slowed down my speed slightly as I reached my location, putting the car into park before cutting off the engine completely. I checked my reflection in the mirror of the car, smirking to myself as I retrieved my clutch off the passenger seat.

Let's fucking do this.

I exited the vehicle, making sure to lock it behind me as I made my way into the entrance of the building. I was instantly greeted with the dim red lighting and heavy rock music that was playing quieter than usual; it was only early doors and the club wasn't even open until eleven that night so the only people inside were the workers and a few other people who I assumed were regulars or friends of the owner. My boots tapped off the floor as I made my way into the main area of the club, removing the sunglasses from my face before stopping dead in my tracks as I reached the bar.

"What does it take for a woman to get a drink in here?"

The heads of the men in the room turned to me instantly; I noticed the barman, André, and the sweaty blonde whose throat Lana's tongue had violated amongst them. André's eyebrows instantly raised upon my announced arrival, a smirk prominent on his features as he leaned against the bar.

"Double vodka and lemonade, I'm assuming? With a side of thigh stabbing?" He responded, earning a few chuckles from the men around him.

The sweaty blonde turned around fully to get a good look at me before he chimed in, "Is this the one Harry told us about? The dance-floor stabber?"

A loud chuckle left my lips as I cocked my head to the side, reaching into my bag to retrieve my cigarettes before placing one between my lips and responding, "The dance-floor stabber? I can fuck with that."

André let out a laugh as he made his way to the bar and began to pour my drink. He slid it over to me before leaning across the bar with a lit flame from his lighter, allowing me to light my cigarette and take a deep inhale of the nicotine.

"To what do we owe this pleasure, ma'am?" André eventually spoke up, taking the lighter back out of my grasp and lighting up a cigarette of his own.

I exhaled the smoke that I'd held in my lungs for a while as I locked my gaze with André's and replied with, "Where's Mr. Styles?"

A low chuckle left his lips as he exhaled some smoke from his lips, cocking his head to the side as he spoke, "Mr. Styles, huh? What do you need him for?"

"A lady never airs her dirty laundry, André. We'll call it unfinished business."

He stared at me for a few seconds with nothing but a look of intrigue in his eyes before he responded with, "He's in the upstairs room in a business meeting. I'll go up and tell him you're here."

I shook my head as I stubbed out my cigarette and downed my drink, placing my sunglasses on the top of my head as I stated, "No need. I'll see my own way up. It's been a pleasure as always, André."

Completely ignoring the protests coming from behind me, I grabbed my clutch off the bar and took long strides towards the stairs that led to the upstairs up of the club. Making my way up the stairs I kept my face stern and neutral, hearing faint conversation coming from the lounge room that I knew all too well. When I'd arrived at the entrance door to the lounge, I didn't bother to knock. I pushed the door open and cleared my throat, making both of the men's heads snap in my direction instantly. Harry was sat on the couch that I'd woken up on less than a week prior to this, dressed in his usual all-black attire with a glass of whiskey clutched in his palm. The other male was sat on the chair; he was a fairly big built man with a scruffy beard. He didn't seem well put together but he also didn't look unclean either. He was wearing a pair of simple black jeans and a white buttoned-up shirt.

"Mr. Styles. A word?" I spoke into the silence, my gaze locked directly with his as he looked up at me with a stern expression on his features.

"I'm in the middle of something, Miss Delgado. Perhaps you should wait at the bar," he responded coldly, a hint of annoyance lacing his words as he kept his gaze on mine.

I shook my head in response and clicked my tongue before replying, "I'm afraid that won't do, Mr. Styles."

I observed his jaw clench as he cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his company on the couch before speaking an annoyed, "We'll continue this later, Seth. I'll give you a call."

The man I now knew as Seth simply nodded as he stood up from his spot on the chair; he gave me a curt nod before exiting the room and closing the door behind me. I focused my attention directly back on Harry, a look I can only describe as pure annoyance on his features.

"What the fuck was that, Celeste? You can't just intrude on my business meetings like that!"

I made my way over to the chair that was once occupied by Seth, sitting myself down on it and crossing one of my legs over the other before replying, "You appear in my life as and when you choose yet I can't do the same?"

Harry's eyes narrowed at my question as he took a deep inhalation of oxygen and proceeded to rub his temples. He rested his elbows on his knees to ensure that he was eye-level with me, his jaw clenching slightly as if he was trying to contain himself.

"Why are you here, Celeste?"

I cocked my head to the side at the question that left his lips, making absolutely certain that my brown irises were locked fully with his.

"You told me to come and find you when I want to start living."

His eyes instantly glistened with a hint of curiosity as he leaned back onto the couch. He took a sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving mine as he swallowed the liquor down his throat.

"What made this come to light?"

I knew there was no point in attempting to deceive him; deceit would have done me no good with him anymore. He evidently had a better reading of me than what I initially thought, he could read me in ways that I didn't think was possible and he knew that he had that power.

"You said I reminded you of a flower. Well, you remind me of a thorn; unwelcomed but necessary," I responded to him, keeping my irises locked with his as I delivered my observation.

He cocked his head to the side as he listened to my response, the pad of his thumb rubbing across his lower lip as he appeared deep in thought. I could see the cogs whirling around in his brain as he tried to decipher the meaning of my words. I ensured that they had complex connotations so that he wouldn't be able to easily understand the hidden implications. I gave him an inch, hoping that he wouldn't be able to go the mile.

"There can't be a rose without a thorn."

I felt the breath hitch in my throat, hoping that it wasn't explicitly obvious that his words had some sort of undesired effect on me. I kept my composure calm and collected as best I could muster before I met his gaze again.

"That is true. Although it's important to remember that thorns can be nasty little things; always catching you when you least expect it."

He let out a low chuckle, swiping his tongue across his lower lip as he broke our gaze to reach into his jacket pocket and retrieve his cigarettes. He placed one between his lips and proceeded to hold the lit lighter flame up to it to light it. He took a deep inhalation of smoke as he locked our gaze once more. He had an unreadable look on his expression, one that I'd never encountered before.

"Yet the two learn to coexist together," he stated, discarding some of his cigarette ash into the ashtray.

"Indeed they do."

The air fell silent between us for a few moments as our gazes remained locked together. Our chests were rising and falling in synchronization with each other, our gazes never faltering as we tried to decipher the hidden secrets behind each other's irises. I took the first step, raising myself up from the chair and making my way over to Harry. I stopped still in my steps in front of him so I was stood towered over him; I placed my hands on the couch behind him as I lowered my gaze from under my heavy lashes. He tilted his head back so he could lock irises with mine, his arms extended across the back of the couch with the cigarette dangling between his fingers. I plucked the lit cigarette from between his fingers and placed it between my lips to take a deep inhalation of the nicotine. I blew the smoke out from between my lips directly into his face, a cloud of smoke forming between us as I placed the cigarette back between his lips.

"Taking another trip to the dark side, Miss Delgado?"

His voice was like gravel as desire swarmed over his features, his eyes glazing over with a look of pure lust.

Got him.

"Even God's favourite angel was a sinner, baby."

A smirk spread across his lips at the reiteration of his words to me from our night together in this very lounge. I lowered myself onto his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck; his arms securing themselves tightly around my waist as soon as my legs rested on either side of him. My coated red lips parted slightly at our close proximity, a deep exhale leaving my throat as our irises connected.

"You're no angel, baby," Harry drawled out, dipping his head so his lips brushed against my jawline.

I let out a breathy laugh, my fingers interlocking with his curls as I tugged on them so his head would snap back up. I had full control over where this interaction was going to go and he was fully aware of that from his position underneath me. I rocked my hips against him at an excruciatingly slow tempo, reveling at the sight of him completely submissive under my power. His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, accompanied by low groans that erupted from the depths of his stomach. I proceeded to lean forward and press my lips against his throat, keeping a grip of him by the locks of his hair.

"I'm a sinner, aren't I?"

I uttered the words into his throat as I continued to rock my hips against him, edging one of my hands down his chest whilst keeping a grasp of his locks with the other. Harry was completely submitting himself to me during this whole process; he was completely lost in the blissful feeling of me rocking against his hips.

I had him right where I wanted him.

I continued to press my lips against the base of his throat, my hand edging further and further down his chest in the direction of his hardening cock. Meaningless profanities left his throat as he completely immersed himself in the feelings of pleasure that were erupting through his body. His hands gripped my ass tighter as the movements of my hips became slower but more forceful, causing a slow smirk to spread across my lips.

"You know what makes you men so intriguing to me?" I whispered in his ear, my fingers working their way through his locks and tugging at them forcefully as soon as the words left my lips.

"Tell me," he panted out, his eyes still screwed shut as I kept up the pleasurable movements against his hips.

I trailed my fingertips over his hardened bulge, causing a loud groan to escape his throat as I replied, "You're so fucking weak at the hands of powerful women."

Before he got a chance to process my words, I'd removed my knife from the safety of my leather holster and pressed the cold blade against his throat. His eyes darted open as I kept full control of him by my fingers woven into his hair. His eyes stared straight into mine with a look of betrayal at how easily I'd managed to manipulate him and have him succumb to my desires.

"What do you want from me, Celeste?" He questioned, his jaw clenched at the feeling of the cold blade almost breaking his skin and my legs securing him in place.

I cocked my head to the side as a slow sinister smirk spread across my lips, never removing the blade from his neck as I spoke, "That's the thing, Harry, I don't need anything from you."

His eyes bored into mine as he thought about my statement; his eyes read complete confusion as he tried to decipher the reasoning for me performing this stunt. I knew in that instant that I had Harry Styles right where I fucking wanted him when he couldn't even utter a response to me.

He was helpless.

He was powerless.

He was vulnerable.

How does it feel, Harry?

"You see, it was you who told me that I possess no worth in myself; that I survive and don't live. This is me living, Harry. The danger, the chase, the control. Having you quivering beneath me wondering what my next move will be. The fear is what I feed on. It's what keeps me alive."

I watched as Harry hung onto my every syllable, his eyes searching mine as I stayed on top of him with the knife still pressed against his neck. A slow smirk spread across his lips as he registered what I was saying to him, proceeding to press his neck further against the blade so it was dangerously close to breaking the skin.

"You're a woman in a man's world. A woman who is worthy of a place in this fucked up world we've found ourselves in."

I let out a low chuckle as I tugged at his hair harshly again before replying, "I'm off the rails, Harry. I'm a dangerous rose to be attaching yourself to right now."

He let out a sinister laugh as he dragged his neck slightly across the sharp blade of the knife, little drops of blood leaking from the wound as he kept his gaze locked on mine before drawling out, "I've never been on the rails, angel."

I smirked at his response, wiping the blade of the knife against his neck to collect the light patch of blood that was staining his neck before twirling the blade between my fingers.

"What do you say? Shall we go off the rails together?" I questioned, watching as his eyes glazed over in pure lust at the sight I was portraying in front of him.

"You're one of a kind, Celeste Delago."

I smiled the most deranged smile I'd ever smiled in my life, the adrenaline settling in my veins as I leaned down so I was eye level with him whilst I spoke my next words.

"Didn't you know? A girl is a gun."