Chapter 3 - Claimed by the Devil

RUYI WYNTER ❦

My legs gave out as terror swallowed everything. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the pain, the darkness and the end.

And then gunshots cracked through the night. I screamed. But it wasn’t my body that fell. When I opened my eyes, the men who had dragged me, all five of them, were on the ground dead.

Blood spread across my street pavement and the night went quiet.

Before I could gather myself from the shock of this horror, I felt something slammed on my head and I fell to the ground unconscious,

They carried me into their car, and that night I was claimed by the devil, The ruthless Mafia Lord Lucien Blackwood.

❧❧❧

The moment I opened my eyes, my head was spinning and my vision blurry, and as I struggled to adjust my body on the mattress that felt so unusually light and warm, that was when I realised I wasn’t in my house.

I forced my vision to focus and I realised I was in a sophisticated bedroom with dark and old money aesthetics, antique furniture and a black crystal chandelier on the ceiling.

My heart flew from my chest as the memory came rushing back, Jace’s betrayal, the debt collector, the gun and dead bodies and the Mafia Lord who ordered the execution…. I remembered how I was knocked out right after.

Until I heard footsteps approaching me, it was one of the two men who shot the debt collectors dead; I panicked.

“Follow me…” his tone was authoritative and stern.

I noticed I didn’t have any underwear on, only a transparent lingerie gown, my heart skipped.

“How long was I out?” I demanded, and he turned back, with a cold expressionless face.

“You were out for an hour.” He said flatly.

I swallowed, I was out for an hour and they stripped me bare and wore me a transparent lingerie gown? It could only mean one thing, I had become a sex slave for a mafia establishment.

“Why didn’t you just kill me?” I blurted out, my voice shaking. “Your lord ordered the debt collectors to kill us, but they didn’t… We’ve already paid half of the debt we owe him too, he—”

“You don’t owe him money,” he cut in sharply.

I was puzzled. “You owe him life.”

My heart dropped so hard it felt like it cracked.

“Life?” I whispered. “How is that possible?”

“You were ordered to be executed months ago,” he said calmly, like he was talking about the weather. “But those men lied to the lord. They claimed they carried out the order when they didn’t. Instead, they extorted you for money.”

My head spun.

“You never owed the lord money,” he continued. “You owed him life.”

Nothing made sense anymore.

“Stand up and follow me.”

He turned and began to walk away. I scrambled off the bed immediately, my legs weak, my heart pounding as I followed him down the corridor, desperate for answers.

“I only signed my husband’s debt to myself,” I said quickly. “I know that was stupid, but owing a life? Jace should be questioned, not me. The business I have here is money—I’ve paid half already, I’ll find the rest—”

“Lower your voice,” he snapped.

We had reached a long marble corridor, the sound of my bare feet echoing too loudly.

“What matters to us,” he continued coldly, “is the life responsible for the punishment of that sin. And you signed your life for it.”

I stopped breathing.

“Your husband,” he went on, “along with other men, stole from our cartel and sold the products to third parties. That theft caused a cartel war.”

He paused.

“Lord Lucien’s beloved fiancée was murdered in that war.”

My knees nearly buckled.

“All the men who stole from him were executed,” he said. “Your husband was meant to die as well. But you signed your life in his place.”

My chest burned.

“And that,” he added quietly, “is what truly infuriates Lord Lucien.”

He finally turned to look at me. “How deeply you love your husband. How willingly you sacrificed yourself for him.”

His voice dropped, sharp and merciless.

“Lord Lucien lost the woman he loved. Yet you flaunt your sacrifice and devotion to the man who caused her death.”

Silence swallowed us.

“And that,” he finished, “is why you are now what Lord Lucien loathes most in this world.”

❧❧❧

The moment we stepped into the study room, Its dark old money aesthetic was intimidating, I’ve never seen anything like it.

And the moment my gaze fell on the devil himself, As he prowled out of the inner chamber of the study with a thick cigar in his mouth.

We stared at each other for a minute straight, and Gosh! This man was drop-dead-gorgeous, handsome in every ways you can think of, and terrifying than anything you could think of.

Slightly unbuttoned shirt, his broad muscled chest exposed, skin inked with strange tattoos, towering, easily six foot six and hot with a Romanesque nose and striking features lurking behind the haze of cigar smoke.

When he stalked closer to me and bent and reached his hands towards my face, my breath seized,

His palm was gently brushing on my cheek, but I’m not fooled. This was the same hand that had okayed five men’s execution with a lazy wave.

He tried to lift my chin, forcing me to look at him.

I deviantly resisted, or I was too terrified to look into those devilish gorgeous eyes.

But one thing I missed, that I didn’t see in his eyes was the hatred in them.

The cold raw hatred for me… he snickered at my defiance. As his finger traced down slowly to my chest, where my heart was beating too fast,

And then slowly resting on my barely covered breast, he circled my pointed nipples through my thin clothing… my heart was racing so fast, faster than anyway I’ve ever felt.

“Uhm.. I will pay the rest of the money I owed, don’t do—“

He didn’t let me finish, and so abruptly his finger clipped on my hardened nipples, so hard that I yelped out as pain reverberated through my being.

And he didn’t flinch.

“You dare?” he said flatly. “The likes of you don’t owe me money.”

His grip remained merciless, “Your life is mine now. Nothing of worth. Just my property.”

I nodded frantically, tears spilling, my body shaking — but he didn’t stop.

“Please… let go!” I rasped out in pain, my hands shivering to grab and remove his hand from my nipples.

“Life will be mildly painful for you, as long as you remember that, I don’t guarantee less pain, I guarantee pain! For you.” He said, hatred dripping from his teeth as he pinched even harder..

“Yes yes…” I cried out in pain.

“Yes what?” He growled.

“I’m your slave, I’m your property…” I cried out when I couldn’t feel my nipples anymore.

Only then did he release me, I sagged where I stood, gasping, my body numb and shaking, his eyes utterly devoid of emotions, whilst dropping his cigar, he ripped my flimsy lingerie off my body with a single rip,

My breast and body curves exposed bare to his cold unfeeling eyes, I felt his surprisingly warm hands caressing every curve and contour of the softness of my skin, my body reacted in a foreign way that I couldn’t control.

Tears of humiliation streamed down my eyes, his cold unfeeling eyes remained that way, no lust, no pleasure, no impression, nothing, Just dead cold eyes… and that was worse. I felt examined. Owned. Like an object laid bare for inspection.

And even worst, knowing, this man isn’t touching me out of lust. He is touching me out of resentment, grief, and punishment.

His hands palmed my breast, tightened my red abused- nipples, his palm brushed hard and all I felt was pain… hot lancing pain.

“Legs apart…” he ordered. And I separated my shaky legs, I felt the cold breeze in my exposed private.. it was bare for his unfeeling cold eyes.

“Jules…” He called, and the second man who had shot the debt collectors dead entered, his grin was more ruthless, he’s like seven feet tall more rugged than the other man that brought me in here, who seems more professional, but one thing was constant in their faces, cold resentment, it felt like they shared their Lord’s resentment.

I wondered why Lucien called him, I tried to get away and seek cover for my un-cladness, but Lucien’s hand holding my breast tightened, firmer that pain froze me in place, any further movement will be painful.

“The bodies?” Lucien asked flatly, “Fixed. my lord.” Jules replied.

That's when I knew this towering man wasn’t just a hitter, he’s a fixer… living in that rugged neighborhood filled with local drug dealers made me know these terms, fixers either frame the execution scene or cleans the bodies off the face of earth.

It terrified me to the bone experiencing this lores first hand..

Lucien snickered, impressed.

“Do you like what you see?” Lucien asks, his cold eyes fixed on me,

“I do my lord..” Jules replied with a cruel lustful smirk.. my heart skipped, what? Is he planning to make me a fixer’s reward?

“Feel her sheath…”

Lucien commanded and my heart thudded.