PROLOGUE

They say the most beautiful things in the world are untouchable. The stars, the moon, the innocence of a child, the last breath before a storm. 

Evelyn was all of those things. Yet, she was none of those things at the same time. She was not meant for this world, she did not belong here. She was too innocent and too tender for this beast called earth. She was like a candle placed in the middle of a battlefield. Her existence felt like a mistake, a divine creature that had slipped through the cracks and landed among monsters. You could see it in her eyes, wide, pale and impossibly green, like new leaves trembling in early spring. Eyes that didn’t know how to lie, eyes that begged for mercy even when her lips stayed quiet. 

Still, no one looked away. She had everyone’s attention fixed on her, unknowingly. The last thing she wanted was to be the center of attraction. 

The night they sold her, the sky outside the Bidding Room was as black as spilled ink. Thunder rumbled low in the distance, but inside, the chandeliers burned too bright, casting gold onto teeth and greed. Men in tailored suits leaned forward. Women sharpened their smiles like knives. Everyone smelled of money and hunger.

The girls were lined up like glass dolls - painted, powdered, perfect. But when Evelyn walked out in that soft blue silk dress, which had the similarity to an angel’s cloak, trembling and bare-faced, the room fell silent.

They stared at the beauty who stood before them, who did not belong in this world, as she trembled before their gaze. Every man in a suit had a common goal at that moment: they wanted her.

She looked like something stolen. She was a sacred delight, about to be desecrated.

They were in awe of her beauty. 

Lucien, Lucien was a name whispered in the darkest corners of the underworld, a ghost cloaked in blood and power. He didn’t need to show his face often - his reputation did the work for him. When he did appear, it was because someone had made a mistake. A deadly one.

Lucien thought they looked like spring trapped in glass - fragile, quiet, and waiting to be shattered.

She didn’t walk like she knew she was beautiful. That was the worst part. The others did. They had practiced. But Evelyn didn’t have to. Her beauty wasn’t something worn like a costume. It was something she was. Something that breathed with her.

And in a room full of women trying to be wanted, Evelyn looked like she wanted to disappear.

Which made everyone want her more.

Something is intoxicating about beauty that doesn’t want to be touched. Something devastating about the kind of girl who looks like she was made to be worshipped, but stands like she’s waiting to be destroyed.

Lucien didn’t believe in angels.

But Evelyn?

She made him want to clip their wings.

And Lucien, he watched her like a man who had found the one thing he didn’t know he was missing. Not with desire. Not with tenderness. But with that cold, unspeakable thrill that only a devil could feel when looking at a lamb that had wandered far too close to the gate of hell.

He didn’t want to save her.

He wanted to break her.

Not quickly. Not loudly.

Slowly.

Beautifully.

He wanted to watch the light in her eyes dim inch by inch, night by night, until there was nothing left but the ghost of the girl everyone once worshiped. Because to own something everyone wanted wasn’t enough. He needed to ruin her. To mark her. To leave his fingerprints on every trembling piece of her until even God turned His face away.

“Ten Million Dollars” 

The Devil had made his choice.