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The Devil You Know [Pt. I]

Author: Veedolly
last update Last Updated: 2025-03-29 13:46:44

[Bianca]

I woke up in a comfy bed and yet, my joints felt somewhat stiff—that alone was a bad sign.

Instinctively, I reached for my phone before freezing mid-motion. Right. That could ruin my morning before it even started.

I sat up slowly, scanning the unfamiliar guest room. It was small and neat, but not the problem. The problem was that I had followed a near-stranger home, stayed the night, and somehow slept with both eyes closed—despite knowing better.

I dragged a hand down my face. Bianca Campbell, you must be out of your damn mind.

Keith wasn't exactly a stranger. I'd seen him around and exchanged a handful of words. An acquaintance, maybe. But that didn't make what I did any less reckless.

I threw off the blanket and stretched, arching my back until I heard a satisfying crack.

"Ughh..." I groaned, scratching at my scalp as I shuffled toward the bathroom. One glance in the mirror, and I nearly snorted. What a disaster. My hair was tangled, my skin dull, my eyes
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  • His Plaything   No Loose Ends

    [Giovanni]The estate was cut off from the rest of the city. Gated, high stone walls, and teeming with security. I glanced back to watch Bianca speaking with the security and showing her ID before they let her in.Which meant that getting in wouldn't be impossible.It just required an invitation from a resident.My lips tugged into a smile as I turned away and buried my hands in my pockets. I began walking towards my 'actual' apartment which was in a different direction from what I'd shown her.I reached into my pocket and pulled out a half-melted chocolate candy, unwrapped it like I had all the time in the world, and took it in my mouth.'Bianca.'I rolled the name around in my mind while my tongue played with the candy.She was nothing special—a dull woman who had nothing but her looks and unbelievably blue eyes. I'd expected to have a harder time getting acquainted with her. She wasn't my target, but I often enjoyed the build-up before the kill—especially when a woman was involved

  • His Plaything   Good Wine, Bad Timing

    [Bianca]I never liked grocery stores.Too many eyes. Too many little reminders that I hadn’t lived a “normal” life in over five years. Still, there was something oddly nostalgic about being inside one again. That—and wine didn’t magically restock itself. Dante’s bar was off-limits since he’d seen how I got when I was drunk. And from his words, ‘he didn’t have the energy to babysit a drunkard.’I almost rolled my eyes at the irony since I was babysitting a grown ass man.Personally, I had a soft spot for red wine. The lighter kind. Stronger liquors and I didn’t exactly get along. So here I was—shades on, hoodie up, trying to act inconspicuous in the dimly lit liquor aisle.I picked up a bottle of red. Italian. Seemed expensive enough and Dante’s card was mostly limitless. I gave the label a half-hearted scan, then—because the universe had a personal grudge against me—I dropped it.The bottle didn't shatter, but it made a dramatic enough thud as it rolled past my boot. I scrambled to g

  • His Plaything   The Bounty Hunter

    [Giovanni]I was whistling a country tune when the blood finally stopped leaking from the sink. Warm water washed over my hands in soothing little swirls, pink-tinted and oddly calming. I liked this part—clean hands, clean mind. My sleeves were already rolled up to the elbows, though the cuffs of my white shirt had long been decorated with blood spatters that weren't mine. I twisted the faucet shut and reached for the towel hanging from the oven handle.Behind me, someone groaned.A wet, throaty kind of sound. Like someone trying to swallow pain but failing miserably. I smiled to myself, drying each finger meticulously before sliding on my black leather gloves, one by one. I took my time. Good art often calls for patience.On the kitchen counter sat a small, dark chocolate coloured suede pouch. I flipped it open gently. Inside, nestled in neat rows like precious instruments, were my scalpels—different shapes, different edges, all polished to a fault. I admired them for a moment. So d

  • His Plaything   The Aftermath

    [Bianca]Dante didn’t say much after.Just leaned into me, breath hot and shallow on my neck, his body too tense, like he hadn’t quite returned from whatever place he’d disappeared into during the carnage.I let him hold me a little longer. Maybe for his sake. Maybe for mine.But eventually, I whispered, “We need to go.”He nodded—barely. When I helped him up, he winced so sharply I thought he’d black out. His weight slumped against my shoulder and I had to steady myself so we didn’t both end up face-first on the warehouse floor. He limped hard, dragging his feet as we made our way out. Every step must’ve sent waves of pain through his body—he was probably nursing more than one cracked rib. Maybe worse. Thankfully, no gun wounds.Still, he didn’t complain. Just clenched his jaw and kept going like he was too proud to be human.We made it to his car somehow, and I all but shoved him into the back seat. He groaned, collapsing across the leather like he’d finally let gravity win. I jumpe

  • His Plaything   Praise Me

    [Bianca]The stench of cigar smoke was enough to make me want to gag. The thug seated beside me had an arm slung over my shoulders, his sweat mixing with the greasy tobacco stench clinging to his clothes. I tried to turn my face away, but he only grinned wider, pressing closer as if he was unaware of his own stink.“The things I could do to you, gorgeous,” he said, sounding disgustingly sly.I glared at him, wrinkling my nose. “The least you could do is brush your damn teeth.”His expression dropped.The hand gripping my shoulder moved to the back of my head, and before I could brace myself, he slammed my skull against the car window.Crack.Everything went dark after that.When I woke, my head throbbed like it had been split open and glued back together. I was seated on cold concrete, arms bound painfully behind me and looped around what felt like a thick metal pillar. My legs were numb probably from sitting on my knees for too long, and my cheeks were sticky with dried blood.The fa

  • His Plaything   Little Red Riding

    [Bianca]Anxious didn't even begin to describe my first full day working under Dante.Maybe it was because I hadn't had a proper office job in years, or maybe it was because of him—the deranged narcissist who seemed to think "assistant" meant glorified errand mule with benefits.Dante had me darting in and out of the elevator like I was trying to win an Olympic medal in coffee-fetching. If it wasn't a missing pen, it was printer paper. If it wasn't paper, it was gum. And if it wasn't gum, then apparently his royal throat was suddenly dry and needed "hydration."God forbid the man actually stand up and get water like a normal person.To make matters worse, I hadn't eaten all day. No breakfast, no lunch, not even a light snack. Just water and the aroma of his beverages.At some point, I finally snapped."Dante," I said, rubbing my temple as I rose from the seat across from him. "I'm going on a break, I'm starving."He didn't bother looking up. "Wait a moment—it's almost closing time."I

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