Married to the Devil

Leah Falco's POV

I try to open my eyes again and again, but the task becomes a real torture. My eyelids are too heavy and my temples throb like I have the worst hangover ever. After what seems like an eternity, I manage to wake up only to damage my eyea with the intensity of light.

I manage to get up to a sitting position and then look around. I am on a huge bed, inside a room which is probably equal to the size of my entire apartment. Gold embroidery on the walls, curtains and all the decoration in general hurt my eyes almost as much as the light.

Where the hell am I?

I try to search my memory for how on earth I ended up in this Victorian-era museum, as I walk around the place. I just remember my shitty day, lunch in the cafeteria on the corner of the hospital and… the dizzy spells. I bumped into someone... I think.

Oh my God! There was something in that drink. Have I been cheated?

'Has something been stolen from me?', I wonder when I see that I don't have the same clothes on and no sign of my belongings, although I only had my cell phone and a couple of euros.

What if some murderous psychopath kidnapped me to rape me and then kill me?

No one has touched me in my private parts, that is clear to me. If so, I would know.

'But I was high'

For our Lord Jesus Christ! What have they done to me?

What if I've been robbed and rescued by some millionaire prince? Maybe that's why I am in this luxurious bedroom.

'Stop thinking nonsense, Leah!' my hysterical subconscious scolds me, but I just can't help it. Millions of ideas mix in my head until they give me a headache.

I find a glass of water and two pills on the bedside table, with a note that says 'Take them'. However, I have no idea where I am or who I'm with, so I'm not going to take anything. I have already been played with that food.

'The drink is on the house', I recall the blonde's sweet voice.

Damn waitress from all hells! I'm going to report her. I'm going to rip her apart.

However, to do that I have to get out of here.

I run to the door and can't say I'm surprised when it's locked.

I have definitely been kidnapped.

I try to open it by force, but the damn thing doesn't give in. I search the bedside table for something to help me with my mission. It's useless! I go to the huge closet in the corner and I am more plastic than Barbie herself when I see my own clothes.

"But what…?", I stop suddenly when a ridiculous idea occurs to me.

I think about it for several minutes, but in the end I decide to give it a try. After all, I have nothing to lose.

'Desperate situations call for desperate measures'

I pull the metal ring out of the first bra I see and run to the door.

"Come on, come on," I perk up on the third try. "You can, Leah, you…" I freeze for a moment as I watch the knob turn. Then I react by jumping up and down for joy. "I've done it," I murmur, looking at the piece of metal. "Fuck, I did! Thank you, creator of underwire bras."

I open the door with trembling hands, but then, I am met with a body of a beast and glowing fire-colored eyes.

"Are you going somewhere, little girl?" The voice becomes all real.

I know him, I've seen him before...

'No', I refuse to believe my eyes.

'This is just another one of your fantasies'

However, as much as I refuse to look or listen, he is still in front of me, with a sinister smile.

“Do you remember me?”, he throws out another question.

"You are…" I point my index finger suspended in the air, full of disbelief, "you are… the Devil!"

"That's right, little girl," he shows his perfect teeth with a fierce look, as if he were the hunter and I the prey about to be devoured. "And I will also be your captor and your executioner."

"How…?", I stop for a few seconds to order my upset head. "Where am I?" On impulse, I lunge at his chest to punch him. "What have you done to me, you son of a bitch?!"

"You're in Oakland, on my domain," he replies, taking my breath away on the spot. America… I'm in another fucking continent, "and if you calm down, I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"I can't calm down a bit!", I utter in the middle of my tantrum. I may be having a psychotic breakdown right now due to shock. What the hell do I have to do with my best friend's psychopathic ex-fiancé? "You drugged me, you broke into my house," I point to the wide open closet. "You brought me to the other side of the world against my will!"

"I'm glad you're smart as well as pretty," he comments nonchalantly, making me even angrier.

'Well done, Leah! you should be trembling with fear and on the contrary, you can only get angry with the guy who possibly wants to kill you'

"You've kidnapped me," I declare what we both know, suddenly speechless as I realize the harsh reality.

I run to the window and draw the curtains to look at the streets which seem a miniature toy over twenty feet tall. I must be in the penthouse of a skyscraper, since the buildings in front are smaller than this one.

I put my hands on my head and comb my fingers through my loose hair.

'It's just a nightmare,' I convince myself.

'It's not real'

"As you have seen, escaping through the window is not an option," his breath brushes my back, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

'It is not happening'

'Wake up, dammit!'

Tears take time to come out, but once they do, they come out in droves and never end.

"Why?", I ask in a whisper.

"Your best friend, her husband and you are going to pay for having humiliated me," he dictates. "Though I'm afraid you've gotten the worst of it. Call it fate if you like."

'Cassie'

So that's what this is all about: fucking revenge. And what the hell am I painting here?

"But what did I do to you?" I turn on my feet to face him.

"Didn't you talk Cass into leaving me?", he lets his face hover a few inches from mine, staring those devilish eyes at me. "Didn't you get her the scholarship and the plane ticket?"

Yes, I did… and I don't regret it. It has been one of the best decisions I have made in my disastrous life.

"You can't keep me here forever," I proclaim undeterred. "I'm going to escape, I'm going to call..."

"To the police?", he cuts me off before handing me a cell phone, which I recognize as mine. "Go ahead, it won't do you any good because it answers to me. You're on my turf, little girl, and only my law is imposed here".

"It is not true," I reply, looking for my friend's name in the contact list.

"Try, nine one one, it's only three numbers", the security he shows together with the amusement that I distinguish in his expression, confirm his words. "You can also call your friends and tell them if you wish. It will be a pleasure for me to see their anguish and… to see them mourn the Man of Steel's.

"What did you just say?". The ground suddenly wobbles under my feet.

He tugs on my arm to lead me to a couch and then forces me to sit down. I remain in a kind of trance while he communicates with someone on a tablet.

"Coulson," he's talking to whoever's on the other end of the line. "Do you have eyes on the target?"

The figure of Adriano Di Lauro, my best friend's husband appears on the screen getting out of his car and a loud gasp escapes my lips. It's not possible. He won't dare...

"Target in sight, sir," this Coulson communicates, "twenty yards away."

I do not want to look. I feel lost. Somehow I know that Devil Frost will be my downfall.