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2025-10-26 05:30:39ELIJAH
The servant opens the door without a word and gestures for me to enter. I step inside, and the room hits me. Big. Too big. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Furniture that costs more than my entire apartment back in New York. Everything smells of expensive cleaning products and cold money. Mila's standing near the desk, arms crossed, calm like nothing’s wrong. I wanted to scream. “Hey,” she says, voice flat. I throw myself onto a couch, gripping the edges. “Hey? Mila, what the hell is going on? You didn’t tell me who your family really is. You didn’t tell me any of this!” She tilts her head. “You look scared. Calm down. No one's gonna hurt you.” “Hurt me? Mila, the guy who walked in earlier — Andrade De Valerio — that’s your brother! And you brought me here?” Her eyes narrow. “You only know about my family because of your own research years ago. Don’t act surprised.” I stare at her, voice rising. “You know I exposed them! I published the dirt. And now I’m here, in their house, in Spain. You knew I’d recognize them. Why bring me here?!” She shrugs like it’s nothing. “You’re alive. That’s what matters. You’re here with me. That’s all. They don't know who you are.” “Alive?” I laugh bitterly. “Mila, this is the same family that ended my career, your family. They’re ruthless, dangerous. Mano De Valerio isn’t just a business — it’s a cartel. And I’m trapped in their house. With you. You’re his sister! You know everything about me. Why bring me here?” She doesn’t answer right away, just watched me. “I know what you did. I know what you published. And I brought you here because I trust you. That’s it. Nothing will happen.” I couldn't help but doubt her. What if she intentionally brought me here? If she's a member of this family, then there's definitely a ploy. I stand, pacing, anger and fear knotting my stomach. “Trust me? You think trust is enough to keep me alive? Andrade is dangerous. Your family is dangerous. And I’m here, inside this house. Why?!” “You’re here. That’s reality. Deal with it.” I stopped. “I have to leave. I'm leaving. Mila, I can’t stay here. I’ll take the next flight. I don’t care.” What if she has been with me only because she needed to bring me here? To trap me? But if Andrade wants something, he takes it. He doesn't do games. Unless he wants to do it for sport. Her face hardens. “You can try, but it won’t work. My brother knows you’re here. Once he realizes what you know, leaving quietly is impossible.” I swallowed. My voice barely comes out. “What?” “It's either you stay or leave in a body bag,” she says. Calm. Controlled. Detached. “You stay with me, or… you won’t leave at all.” I slump into the chair. My heart pounding. My thoughts spinning — the career I lost, the investigation I worked years on, the family I thought I’d exposed… and now I’m trapped. In their house. With their power. And Mila sits there, calm as ever, telling me to stay. Mila? That's not even her real name! There’s no choice. Stay… or leave in a body bag. Mila walks closer to me, in that cute seductive way of her. She puts her legs on either side of me on the couch. I knew exactly what she wanted, Mila was always direct. My hands wrapped around her throat as I pulled her in to claim her lips. How I've missed her. I missed how she touch me. How she moans my name. I love it when she's like this. Her hands were quick to bring out my dick. She wasn't wearing panties. I got hard before I even blinked. Mila slowly sat on my cock, the walls of her pussy warm around me. I felt a delicious sensation. I took off her shirt, cupping her breasts, tasting them one after the other. And then, she started to ride me. Driving me crazy. I could feel my senses leaving me. Mila also has a way of doing that to me. She moved quick and swift. And soon, I was moaning, spreading inside her. Mila angrily looked down at me. “Did you just cum?” “Y-yeah..” I breathed. “I'm sorry, but I couldn't hold it…” Mila angrily got down. “Are you kidding me?” “Mila..” “Save it.” She walked into the closet and brought out a dildo. I pulled up my pants quickly. “Don't you fucking dare!” I walked to her. “That's what you get when you have a small fucking cock and zero dick game. How can you cum in less than a minute?” My hands were shaking. I couldn't feel my heart. A ring in my ears. I only watched her climbed the bed, turned it on and started fucking herself. Her eyes never left mine. Her moans haunting my soul. I can't do this. My legs started moving, away from her and out of the room. I blinked back to tears, not today. No! I tried to block out her mocking moans but they only got louder. Fuck!
Latest chapter
The Devil You Know 093
ANDRADE I didn’t knock. I didn’t slow down. I didn’t pretend to care about politeness or timing or anything that resembled calm. I shoved the door open so hard it banged against the wall, and the moment I stepped inside, she already knew why I was there. My mother looked up from her desk with that infuriating, satisfied little smile she always wore when she was three steps ahead of everyone else. Like she was expecting me. Like she’d been waiting for this exact moment. I slammed the door shut behind me. “Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t give me that goddamn smile.” She widened her smile just to piss me off. “Hello to you too.” My jaw clenched. I walked straight toward her desk, pacing like a bomb ready to blow. “Why did you do it?” She leaned back in her chair, relaxed, composed, enjoying every second of my anger. “You’ll need to be specific, Andrade. I do many things.” “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Why did you give him your shares?” She folded her arms, her expressi
The Devil You Know 092
ELIJAH I stood outside Andrade’s office, staring at the tall double doors like they were the last barrier before war. I forced myself to breathe, slow and even. No slipups. No shaking. No hesitation. I had to keep the mask on—nothing could crack this façade. I adjusted the collar of the suit I was wearing. Not my old style. Sleek charcoal gray, sharp shoulders, a cut that mirrored Andrade’s own preferred look. It wasn’t an accident. Every detail mattered. I wanted him to see how much had changed—and how much he had created. I pushed the door open. He didn’t look surprised. Not even a blink. It was like he’d been waiting for me, sitting there in that overly expensive black leather chair behind his glass desk, as if the universe had warned him beforehand. His office looked different, my desk, the one that used to be in the corner, was gone. Not moved. Erased. Like I’d never existed here. Fine. I’d carve a new place out of this building myself. I walked in confidently, contro
The Devil You Know 091
CAMILA I don’t even remember how I got to my mother's door. But I just had to see him. Everything from the moment Eli walked away from me at the altar feels like a blur—like my brain just shut down and left the rest of me to move on autopilot. My mascara has dried on my cheeks in thick black streaks, but fresh tears keep spilling, cutting through the mess. I can taste the salt. I can feel the ugly tightness in my throat. I can hear my heartbeat pounding so loud it makes me feel sick. And it’s his fault. All of this is Cristian’s fault. His door isn’t even locked so I push it open and stumble inside, barely able to breathe. The room is dim, the curtains half-open, and the place smells like liquor and sweat. Cristian is sitting on the edge of the bed with a bottle dangling from his hand, shirt half-unbuttoned, eyes unfocused like he’s been drinking for hours. When he saw me, he jerks upright so fast he almost drops the bottle. “Camila…what the hell…?” he says, voice r
The Devil You Know 090
ELIJAH Camila reached the altar. She stood in front of me, looking like she’d just stepped out of a dream. I returned the same smile. Happy, in love, the perfect husband-to-be. She had no idea that I was looking past the surface, that I could see the girl behind the pain, the manipulative little piece of herself she tried to hide behind sweetness. And I could feel it—I could feel her fear, even as she smiled. She didn’t know how close she was to losing everything. The priest’s voice echoed, drawing attention back to the ceremony. “We are gathered here today…” he began, but I barely listened. Camila's hands trembled slightly as she held her bouquet. Her eyes found mine, and for a second, I almost flinched, almost let myself feel. But I didn’t. I squared my shoulders. I smiled wider. She had to believe I was hers completely. The priest continued, “If anyone here knows any reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The murmurs of the
The Devil You Know 089
ELIJAH I stood at the altar, my palms slightly damp even though the hall was air-conditioned to near freezing. The sound of murmurs filled the cathedral—people whispering, waiting, watching. They were all dressed like royalty, pretending this was a day of love, unity, celebration. But I knew better. This wasn’t a wedding—it was an execution. I adjusted my tie, forcing a calm I didn’t feel. Every second felt like a countdown. Every beat of my heart echoed louder than the priest’s voice rehearsing the lines in his head. Marisol sat in the front row, her face expressionless as ever, but her eyes… those sharp, assessing eyes followed my every move. Beside her sat Cristian, stiff, trying too hard to look composed. And then there was Andrade. Andrade, in his perfectly tailored suit, sitting with his hands clasped, his face unreadable. He hadn’t looked at me once since I walked in, not directly, but I could feel him—his presence like a silent force pressing against my skin. I wa
The Devil You Know 088
ELIJAH I straightened my suit once before I walked into Marisol's office. I didn’t wait for a welcome. I pushed the door open and stepped into the room that had always been off limits to me. The furniture smelled like lemon polish and old decisions. Portraits of the family lined the wall. Marisol sat behind the desk, everything about her perfectly folded into posture and control. Her eyes flicked up. For a second I saw the surprise cross her face, then the mask slid into place. “Elijah,” she smiled, keeping the tone polite. “Is there something…” I set my phone on the desk and hit play before she could finish. I slid it across the wood and then I watched her watch. The footage played. I watched what it did to a woman who had built a life on appearances. She didn’t gasp or yell. She simply watched every frame as if the evidence was a personal insult and a financial threat at once. Her jaw tightened. Her fingers pressed on the desk until the knuckles whitened. When the cl
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