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8. The Rules of His Mansion

Author: Avi22Nash
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-10-28 20:04:34

After three months of sleeping on the world's most uncomfortable bunk bed, I have finally gotten real sleep, deep, dreamless sleep in a bed that actually feels like it has a soul. A thick one, with clean sheets and a comforter heavy enough to pin me to the world.

Now, tangled in those same sheets, I blink at the sliver of sunlight stretching across the room like a lazy cat. For once, my body is not aching like it has been dragged behind a truck. Last night, when those sexy blue eyes left the ro
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  • The Devil I Lied To   26. You Wanted to Be Mine

    It is creeping past 11:55 p.m., the kind of quiet that feels too thick for a normal night. The only sound in my room is the soft tick of the wall and the click of chess pieces sliding across the polished wooden board between me and Lucien.I fix my gaze on the board, my lower lip twitching between my teeth. I have been planning my next move for a solid three minutes, thinking I have him this time...when Lucien's hand moves. Not a rush, but not hesitation either. Just that slow, deliberate reach of his long fingers, the pad of his thumb brushing over the bishop before he claims it.My breath hitches. "You..." I lean back, blinking like he has just pulled the rug out from under me. "How could you do this? You took my bishop."Lucien leans back in his chair, the ghost of a smirk playing at his mouth. "You are the one who wanted to play. This is my world. My rules." His voice is low, but there isn't the usual bite. My heart thuds a little harder, not that I have to admit it. I scoop up m

  • The Devil I Lied To   25. Blood on the Floor

    It has been about a week since I fell back into my boring little routine...eat, sleep, and repeat.Only difference? Viviana doesn't seem to care anymore if I, Clara, and Beatrice talk. No snide remarks, no "you are not supposed to be here," no icy stares. It is weird. And Lucien? He has been a ghost. Not a single visit since that dinner in my room. I haven't decided if I am relieved or annoyed about that.Now it is three in the morning, and I am half-slouched on the couch in the hall, remote dangling from my hand, watching some geeky sitcom about a group of geeky guys going crazy for a hot chick who lives right across the hall.My eyes are gritty from lack of sleep, my hair a messy bun. I will probably regret trying to untangle it later. That's when I hear it.A man's scream.At first, I think maybe it is part of the TV, some late-night thriller on a channel I had accidentally flipped to. But then it comes again. Louder. Sharper. It's certainly not coming from the TV speakers.My thum

  • The Devil I Lied To   24. A Drink, A Glimpse of Softness

    Steam is still curling thick in the air when Lucien grabs a towel from the rack. He unfolds it and then, without a word, wraps it snugly around my chest. The towel is settling just right, giving me a small measure of privacy in the steamy bathroom.The warmth of the towel is nothing compared to the heat simmering beneath my skin from Lucien's touch. The way his fingers linger longer than necessary as he smooths the towel flat across my ribs makes my pulse quicken.I can feel the faint tremor of nerves mixing with something else...something raw and unpredictable that isn't just from the chill of the steam. "Come on," Lucien says, like a warning wrapped in a promise.I hesitate for a split second, exhaustion and the ache in my ankle making me stop. However, the firm pressure of Lucien's hand on my lower back urges me to move forward. There is no gentleness in his touch because he is not holding me like a fragile thing but a possession to be managed, moved with purpose. Lucien makes me

  • The Devil I Lied To   23. He Finally Asks Her Name

    Steam is already clinging to the air, thick and curling from the shower Lucien turned on minutes ago. The soft hiss of water fills the tiled room, and the heat seems to press in from all sides.I am standing barefoot, arms wrapped loosely. I can hear my pulse loudly in my ears. I am not sure if it is the temperature or him making me feel flushed.Lucien leans casually against the counter, sleeves rolled up, watching me like I am the only thing worth his time. That look alone can melt concrete."Okay," he pushes off the counter. "You are either gonna let me help, or you are gonna stand there till you pass out again."I shoot him a stare that isn't half as sharp as I want. "I told you, I can handle myself.""Sure you can," he says, his voice a blend of teasing and heavier. Lucien steps closer, his presence swallowing the small space between us. "The thing is, I am not asking."My breath catches when his fingers brush the hem of my sports bra. I want to stop him...tell him no, tell him t

  • The Devil I Lied To   22. The Woman Who Smiled at Death

    The air inside the warehouse is heavy with the scent of sweat and blood; the thud of fists and kicks echoes all around us. Fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, casting long, sharp, and dramatic shadows across the ring where I am facing off against a bitch named Imani Voss.Three months ago, I would have been flat on my back by now, gasping, shaking, and begging for a break. Now sweat is streaming down my temples, stinging my eyes, but my aim is solid, and my breath is controlled.Imani is circling me, using her ancient technique with that wolfish grin. "If you think outside streets are gonna go easy on you because you gotta pretty face, then you are wrong, princess."I wipe my mouth with the back of my glove. "Don't worry about my face, bitch. worry about your ribs."Imani barks a laugh and pretends to move left, driving a jab toward her shoulder. I deflect my muscles moving on instinct now. Three months ago, I was clumsy, arms flailing, feet too slow. Now I am pivoting, cutting the a

  • The Devil I Lied To   21. Observing the Devil

    I am deep in that hazy place between dreams and nothingness when the first crack of gunfire yanks me out of it. My eyes flutter open, heartbeat instantly pounding. Another fire slit echoes in the air. Then another. I keep my hand over my heart and dart my eyes at the door. I wait for someone to barge into my room and shoot me.A beat of silence passes; I am about to sigh in relief, but then a whole damn series of sharp and continuous sounds shakes me to the core. I jerk upright, my breath catching, panic clawing through my veins. My first thought isn't even a thought; it is pure instinct. The mansion is under attack.I throw my blanket aside and swing my legs over the edge; when my warm feet hit the cold floor, it stings. My body is already moving before my brain catches up. I hurry to the window and yank the unnecessarily heavy curtains apart.My heart stops for a beat. Down on the lawn at a far distance, Clara and Beatrice are standing in dramatic poses like those in a mafia movie,

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