[Chapter 260: Are You a God?]
Daniel nodded; Chris was truly skilled in this regard.
He suddenly realized just how impressive she was. One person could completely replace an entire team.
More importantly... Daniel studied her unimaginably beautiful face and strikingly sexy figure. She could also be a tremendous help in daily life.
Taking Chris in back then had definitely been the right choice.
...
On November 18th, Walk the Line was officially released across the United States.
Inside a theater in Los Angeles, Daniel and Rachel wore sunglasses, sitting side by side in the back row.
As the movie drew to a close, June -- played by Rachel -- sang a soulful duet with the male lead on stage.
When her eyes finally revealed that restrained sorrow, a wave of suppressed sniffles echoed through the theater.
The lights came on, and the entire audience stood, applauding.
Walking out of the theater, Rachel gripped Daniel's arm tightly, her fingertips turning slightly white from the pressure.
"Daniel, I have a feeling... things are really different this time."
Daniel glanced at her. "The numbers will tell us the answer soon."
...
At midnight, the first-day box office results were posted.
Walk the Line raked in $8.2 million on its opening day across North America.
Soon after, the weekend box office total was released: $25.3 million.
For a biographical film with a production budget of only $28 million, this opening was nothing short of a blockbuster performance.
...
On Monday morning, front-page headlines of major Hollywood media outlets were all dominated by photos of Rachel.
The Los Angeles Times commented, "Rachel McAdams has delivered a spine-chilling vitality in this film. She is no longer just the girl next door with a sweet smile; she is June Carter, the soul of an era."
Variety even ran the headline: "Has the race for Best Actress already been decided?"
In just one short week, Rachel's net worth had tripled.
Her previous commercial deals and endorsements had turned into global ambassador titles for top brands.
...
Back at her Beverly Hills villa, Rachel pushed open the door, still wearing an expensive custom gown from a charity gala.
She kicked off her high heels and threw herself into Daniel's arms.
"Daniel, are you a god?" She looked up at him, her eyes full of obsession and awe. "Monica said there are three major directors who want to meet with me right now. All of them have scripts aimed at next year's awards season. Some big names even want me to produce their films."
"This is just the beginning. Once you take home that trophy next February, the world will shrink even smaller for you," Daniel murmured, his voice a low vibration against her temple.
He had his arm wrapped firmly around her waist, his fingers trailing light, teasing paths across the delicate skin of her back.
Rachel shivered, the silk of her dress offering little protection against the heat of his hand. She leaned into his ear, her voice a breathless whisper. "No matter how small the world gets, I only want to be in your arms."
The air between them shifted, growing warm and charged with an unspoken longing.
Daniel drew her closer, his touch slow and deliberate as his hand slipped from the small of her back to cradle the nape of her neck. Tilting her face toward his, he met her lips in a lingering kiss.
When the kiss finally broke, he smiled softly and eased her into his arms. She laughed under her breath as he lifted her effortlessly from the couch, her arms slipping around his shoulders while her legs naturally wrapped around his waist.
Rachel rested her forehead against his, a smile lingering on her lips as he carried her down the hallway. The soft glow of the villa's lights painted warm streaks across the marble floor, the evening's excitement finally giving way to quiet.
"Bath first?" he asked.
"Only if you're joining me."
"I was hoping you'd say that."
She disappeared into the adjoining bathroom with a playful smile, and moments later the sound of running shower filled the room.
...
The water had already turned the bathroom into a humid sanctuary, the air thick with the scent of sandalwood and expensive oils.
Rachel stood under the spray, her eyes closed, letting the heat soak into muscles tight from a night of performative grace.
The glass door slid open with a rhythmic click, and then the cold air of the room was replaced by the sudden, searing heat of Daniel's body pressing against her back.
Rachel gasped, her head falling back against his shoulder as his hands found her waist. His grip was firm, possessive, pulling her flush against him so she could feel every hard line of his frame.
"You're shaking," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that seemed to echo in her very bones. He began to work the soap into a rich lather, his palms sliding over the curves of her hips and the swell of her breasts with a slow, deliberate precision that made her breath hitch.
"It's the water," she lied, her voice sounding thin and desperate.
"Is it?" Daniel's lips found the sensitive curve where her neck met her shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin just enough to make her arch. His hand wandered higher, his fingers splaying across her stomach before sliding upward, claiming her.
Rachel let out a soft, broken moan, her fingers gripping the tiled wall for support as he found the center of her heat. He moved with a rhythmic, agonizingly slow cadence, his thumb tracing circles that pushed her closer and closer to the edge.
"Daniel, please," she whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut.
"Please what, Rachel?" He shifted, his touch becoming more insistent, more demanding. "Tell me exactly what you want."
She turned in his arms, the water cascading over both of them, her skin slick and glistening. She looked up at him, her expression one of pure, unadulterated hunger. "I want you. Right now. All of you."
He didn't need to be told twice.
Daniel hoisted her up, her legs locking instinctively around his hips, the friction of their wet skin creating a searing heat that rivaled the shower. He pinned her against the cool marble wall, the contrast of the cold stone and his burning skin sending a jolt through her.
As he entered her in one deep, commanding surge, Rachel threw her head back, a loud, unrestrained cry echoing off the tiles.
The world outside ceased to exist.
There was only the rhythmic slap of skin, the roar of the water, and the overwhelming intensity of a man who owned her heart as much as he owned her body.
The water continued to drum against their skin, but the roar of the shower was drowned out by the sound of Rachel's jagged breathing.
Daniel didn't give her a moment to recover from the initial surge; he began to move, his thrusts deep and unrelenting, driving her back against the marble with a force that left her breathless.
He was a rhythmic storm, and Rachel was drowning in it. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his wet skin, anchoring herself as he claimed her. Every slide of his body against hers felt like a collision of electricity and heat, the friction amplified by the slickness of the soap and water.
"You're so tight," Daniel groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest and into her. He shifted his grip, one hand remaining locked on her waist while the other slid down to cup her backside, lifting her slightly to change the angle. He drove into her harder, hitting a spot that made Rachel's vision blur and her toes curl against the tile.
"Oh god, Daniel... right there," she gasped, her voice a broken melody of pleasure. She arched her back, her chest pressing firmly against his, their heartbeats hammering in a frantic, synchronized rhythm.
Daniel leaned in, his lips grazing her ear, his voice a dark, possessive command. "Look at me, Rachel."
She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his. His eyes were dark, clouded with a hunger that mirrored her own, the look of a man who knew exactly how much power he held over her. He didn't slow down; instead, he increased the pace, his movements becoming shorter, faster, and more urgent.
The sensation was overwhelming -- the cold stone behind her, the searing heat of him inside her, and the cascading water that felt like a veil separating them from the rest of the world. Rachel felt the pressure building, a tight coil of tension in her lower belly that threatened to snap.
"I'm... I'm close," she whimpered, her hips beginning to shudder around him.
"Then let go," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Give it all to me."
With one final, powerful thrust that seemed to reach the very core of her, Rachel shattered. A loud, guttural cry escaped her as waves of intense pleasure crashed over her, pulsing through her body in rhythmic spasms. The feeling was so acute it felt like she was dissolving, her entire existence narrowing down to the point where their bodies met.
Seconds later, Daniel let out a low, shaking breath, his muscles locking as he followed her over the edge. He groaned her name, a sound of pure release, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, his body shuddering as he poured himself into her.
They stayed like that for a long moment, the water turning lukewarm, their breathing the only sound in the humid room. Daniel slowly began to ease her down, his movements gentle now, though he kept her pressed tightly against him as if afraid she might drift away.
---
Three days later, in Beverly Hills.
Daniel sat in the garden, playing with a Dominion Rod in his hand.
The wood, struck by lightning, felt warm yet carried a chilling edge. As his magic permeated it, the lightning patterns on the rod shimmered faintly with violet hues.
Ring, ring, ring...
The phone rang. Daniel looked and saw it was Liv.
After connecting, Liv's voice came in low, trembling with an uncontrollable terror.
"Daniel, can you come over now? Something's happened next door at the Greens."
Daniel frowned. "What happened?"
Liv replied, "Mrs. Green was screaming in the backyard just now. When I checked, she was trembling, clutching her two kids. She said... she heard a woman crying inside the house. The kind of cry so miserable, it makes you want to end it all. It didn't even sound human."
Liv paused, her tone growing more urgent. "The police just left. They checked the surveillance and all the rooms and said there was no one in the house besides the Greens. But I have a bad feeling. I'm scared..."
"A cry that doesn't sound human," Daniel murmured thoughtfully.
A few seconds later, he stood. "Stay inside and don't move. As long as the ward isn't broken, you're safe. I'll be there in half an hour."
Daniel didn't think Liv was overreacting.
She bore the Ram Cult's mark, making her a target, so it was only natural she'd be sensitive to the strange things around her.
And what if there really was something wrong?
...
Half an hour later, the Cadillac stopped at Liv's villa.
From the second-floor balcony, Liv spotted Daniel's car and hurried down to open the courtyard gate.
"The Greens' place is over there." She pointed to the mansion on the right, her face pale. "Earlier, I noticed large patches of water stains on their windows. But it's a perfectly sunny day."
Daniel used his Spiritual Perception Technique to look closer.
Above the neighboring mansion hung a thick, gray mist heavy with moisture.
The aura was unique -- a coldness filled with drowning despair.
Daniel's brow furrowed.
The family definitely had a problem. Looks like something had gone seriously wrong.
After considering it, Daniel decided to check the situation directly and eliminate the threat before it could affect Liv.
"Let's go take a look."
Daniel led Liv toward the Green house.
Before even entering, he caught a faint, fishy stench, like stagnant, decaying pond water.
...
Mr. Green stood at the door, anxiously making a phone call.
When he saw Daniel and Liv, he paused briefly, then ended the call.
"Liv, who's this?"
"This is Daniel Cross, my boyfriend. He's also an Exorcist," Liv introduced. "He might be able to help."
Mr. Green sized Daniel up with suspicion, clearly doubting what this young man could do. But thinking of his two terrified children hiding under their blankets, he stepped aside.
"Come in -- just don't mention 'psychologists' again."
Once inside, Daniel noticed several small wet footprints on the expensive Persian carpet in the living room. They were tiny, belonging to a five- or six-year-old child.
The water stains were still damp, exuding a cold, gloomy aura.
"Who made these?" Daniel asked, pointing at the footprints.
Mr. Green looked puzzled.
"I don't know. The maid just mopped the floor, but as soon as she turned her back, another puddle appeared here."
Daniel didn't reply and moved toward the children.
The boy and girl were huddled tightly in the corner of the sofa, trembling.
Daniel rolled back the boy's sleeve, his gaze instantly turning cold. On the child's thin arm were several distinct purplish finger marks.
They looked like deep scratches or bruises, as if someone had gripped him forcefully.
A faint moisture oozed from the marks.
"Daniel, this is..." Liv said from the side, voice trembling slightly.
Daniel's voice was low and serious. "A mark. Something has set its sights on these two children."
He already knew what the Green family was facing.
*****
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