The Devil’s Embrace

"Yara, someone's looking for you!" shouted her friend, who worked as a cashier.

Yara frowned, wiped her hands on her green apron, and walked towards the door. However, her steps were halted when a tall man stood right in front of her. She didn't recognize the man.

"May I help you, sir?" she asked, smiling kindly at him.

The man didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed Yara's arm quickly.

"Wait, what are you doing? Let go of me!" cried Yara, trying to pull her hand away, but the man's grip was too strong.

Without a word, the man dragged Yara out of the shop. Sarah could only look on in fear, not knowing what to do.

Yara was forced into a luxurious black car that was waiting outside. Despite her cries for help, the car sped away from the small street where the flower shop was located.

After a few minutes of traveling in suspense, the car stopped in front of a large mansion with a high fence. The car door was opened, and Yara was dragged back inside.

"Let go of me! What do you want from me?" yelled Yara, trying to rebel.

Inside the mansion, a man was sitting on a black leather sofa. His eyes were cold. He was Damian Devatra, the man Yara had heard about on the news and through rumors—the ruler of a ruthless and unforgiving underground organization. You could say he was the King of the Mafia.

"Sit down," Damian ordered simply.  

Yara gulped, feeling she had no choice. Hesitantly, she sat on the sofa in front of him.  

"What is it, sir?" she asked, trying to sound calm despite her racing heart. "Why did you want to see me?"  

Damian didn't answer right away. Instead, he placed a check on the table. The amount made Yara's eyes widen.  

"This money is for your mother's medical expenses," Damian said coldly. 

"I know she needs heart surgery."  

"How did you know?" asked Yara.  

"It doesn't matter where I know it from. If you want a favor from me, there are conditions, of course." Damian smiled and grinned.  

Yara frowned. "Conditions? What conditions?"

"For one year, you must be my servant. No more, no less. You just have to do what I tell you," he said casually.

Yara bit her lip, her mind in turmoil. This offer was very tempting. For a week now, Yara had been looking for loans and favors here and there to no avail.

However, Yara was hesitant. She was afraid of being framed. But the image of her mother lying weak in the hospital made her think hard.

"So it's just a waiter?" Yara asked for confirmation.

Damian nodded. "Just a waiter. Nothing more."

Yara looked at the check, then at Damian. She tried to dismiss her doubts. "Yes, sir. I agree."

Damian smiled slightly, sliding a contract towards her. Yara read the contract carefully. There were no suspicious points, just the terms of being a servant for a whole year. With trembling hands, she took the pen and signed the contract.

"From now on, you are my personal servant, Miss Yara," Damian said as he looked at Yara intensely.

Yara felt her body tremble. There was something behind the look in the man's eyes that made her uncomfortable, but she always tried to remain calm.

"Servant! Take Miss Yara to the guest room upstairs! Have her wear the maid outfit I've prepared!" Damian ordered firmly.

"Yes, Mr. Damian!" replied a male servant as he bowed.

The waitress motioned for Yara to follow her. With hesitant steps, Yara walked through the long corridor.

Upon reaching a large room upstairs, the maid opened the door and invited Yara in. "This is your room, Miss. On the bed are the clothes requested by Mr. Damian."

Wordlessly, Yara entered the room, and the door was immediately closed from the outside. It was eerily quiet. Yara's breath caught as her eyes fell on a large box on the bed. Slowly, she approached and opened the box.

However, what she saw made her eyes widen. Inside was a piece of bright red, sheer, almost transparent lingerie.

"What the hell is this?" she muttered in a trembling voice. She was disgusted by the garment.

With an angry gesture, Yara threw the garment on the bed and sat in a nearby chair, holding her throbbing head.

A few seconds later, the door rudely opened. Yara looked up to find Damian standing in the doorway, staring at her intently. She stepped in and locked the door behind her.

"Why did you throw it?" Damian asked, his voice sounding stern.

"What do you mean, Mr. Damian?" Yara replied, trying to sound stern despite her shaky voice. "Why are the servant's clothes you gave me even like that?"

Damian approached, his steps slow but heavy. When he reached Yara, he gripped her chin with one hand, forcing her to look up at him. "Don't ever try to resist or protest, Yara. You're mine now. Wear it and serve me as we agreed."

"What? No! You said I was only to be a servant. You didn't say I had to serve you in bed!" protested Yara.

Damian ignored her words, pushing Yara onto the bed roughly. "You know what being my personal servant means, huh? I never explained all the details, but you should."  

Yara hit Damian's shoulder, trying to rebel. "Let go of me! You can't do this! You've deceived me! You bastard!"  

Damian gave Yara a cold look. "You have no choice, Yara. Remember your mother. Remember why you're here."  

That statement made Yara pause for a moment. Her breathing was labored. She thought of her mother's face lying weak in the hospital. Damian was right; she was here to save her mother, but the price she had to pay seemed too high.  

"Why are you doing this? Why did you have to choose me?" Yara asked finally, her voice weakening.