Even The Devil Gets Jealous

Chapter 7: Even The Devil Gets Jealous

Marcus POV

The lights in the bar were dim, the kind of place where secrets were currency and silence was comfort. I sat at the farthest corner, a glass of bourbon untouched in front of me. My emerald eyes—those same piercing, unforgettable eyes, stared into nothing, caught somewhere between the past and the memory of the woman who haunted every breath I took.

Serena.

Even her name tasted like longing.

I had kissed her and the taste of her lips still lingered, bitter and sweet like a memory I never got to bury.

I sat alone at the rooftop bar of Le Marais Grand, the city’s skyline swallowing my thoughts. The whiskey burned less than it should’ve. Or maybe I was already too numb to feel it. Since I saw her, Serena, everything I thought I’d buried snapped back to life like a loaded spring.

Seven years. Seven long goddamn years.

I still remembered the smell of her skin. The sound of her laugh as she chased her little siblings around that broken-down yard. The weight of her body under mine when we made love in my family’s basement, hidden from the world that said we didn’t belong.

A memory flashed—

"You’re too good for me," she whispered once, tangled in the sheets, her face glowing from our first time.

I’d brushed her hair from her face. "No. I’m yours. That’s all there is."

But then I left. I didn’t have a choice.

My parents sent me abroad for university with a full scholarship and a plane ticket they booked before I even had a chance to breathe. Serena had no say. Neither did I. They didn’t want their golden boy caught in a neighborhood romance. They didn’t want me to love a girl whose mother cleaned our gardens.

In uni, girls came easy. Too easy. The more I refused them, the harder they tried. There was one—Lena. Long legs, perfect lips, the kind of confidence that made most men beg.

I remembered sitting on the balcony

while she laughed with her friends coming out of the library.

"So you’re the guy who doesn’t date," she teased, sipping coffee. "What’s the story? Broken heart or just gay?"

"Neither," I said.

She straddled me without warning, her fingers sliding under my shirt. I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t feel a damn thing.

"You're handsome," she said, breathy. "But you look like you're haunted."

"I am."

I left that instant. She didn’t chase.

No one ever came close to Serena. And when I returned home seven years later, I tried to find her.

But she was gone.

I hired investigators. I searched through school records, local clinics, and her siblings' old schools. I even bribed one of the hotel clerks where her mother used to garden. Nothing. It was like she’d vanished into thin air. Or worse—like someone made her disappear.

It had been seven years since I’d left for Cambridge. Seven years since I’d walked away from the only girl who had ever truly owned my heart. The goodbye was never supposed to be permanent. I had promised to return, to build something real. But life, or rather, my parents, had other plans.

I had kept myself together during university. On the surface, I was perfect, handsome, wealthy, the top of every class. Women wanted me. Professors praised me. Friends envied me.

But I’d been numb, I missed her, everyday of my life. I couldn't reach out because my parents had changed my phone, I had lost contact with the only woman that brought me happiness, I was broken, I barely could cope.

Then I saw her tonight.

Dressed like a goddess in black velvet and diamonds, standing beside Lucian fucking Devlin like she belonged to him. Like she wasn’t mine first.

I had wanted to rip her away from him. But when I kissed her, when she kissed me back I knew one thing for sure.

Serena Vale wasn’t lost.

She was trapped.

And I was going to get her back.

Hook or crook. By war or by fire.

The glass hit the bar top with a thud. I signaled for another drink. Before it arrived, a woman slid onto the stool beside me.

She had flawless mocha skin, legs longer than sense, and wore a red satin dress that dipped low enough to leave nothing to the imagination. Every man in that bar turned their heads. Except me.

"You’re too pretty to drink alone," she said, voice like honey.

I didn’t even look at her. I took another sip, eyes fixed ahead.

"Not interested."

She placed a manicured hand on my forearm.

"Not even for company?"

You look like you could use some company," she purred.

I barely looked at her. "I’m good."

"You sure? Because I’m told I’m very good company."

She leaned closer, perfume thick in the air. Her hand brushed my thigh.

"Not interested."

I looked at her then, really looked. Her beauty was undeniable. A walking fantasy. But when I blinked, all I saw was Serena.

The way she used to bite her lower lip when she was shy. The scar on her chin from when she fell off her bike.

My lips curled into a cold smile.

"Company? That’s what you think you are?"

She stiffened. Her ego bruised. "You’re an asshole."

"No. Just taken."

"She blinked, stunned. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something else, then thought better of it and stood.

"Your loss," she muttered, heels clicking as she stormed off.

Maybe. But I’d already lost what mattered.

And I’d be damned if I lost her again.

I knew I was rude but I didn't care, I just thought about one name Serena Vale

My first and only love, I was angry at myself. I came late, a bit too late now my own Serena was married.

She was married. To Lucian fucking Devlin.

I clenched my jaw and finally downed the bourbon in one burning gulp. How could she marry someone like that? How could she go from the boy who held her through nightmares in a cramped one-room apartment to the devil himself?

I was going to find out everything and even take her back, I couldn't imagine my life without her.

—-

Across the city, Lucian Devlin stood in his private study. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the skyline, but he wasn’t looking at it.

He was staring at a name.

Marcus Diego.

His fingers tapped the desk rhythmically. Kael stood across from him, tablet in hand, frustration written on his usually unreadable face.

"I found nothing, sir," Kael said. "It’s as if the man doesn't exist on paper. No government records. No university files. The man is a ghost."

Lucian’s jaw tightened.

"Nobody ghosts me, Kael."

Kael nodded. "I’ve sent a deeper query through off-grid channels. I’ll have something within twenty-four hours."

Lucian turned his back to him, eyes narrowing.

"He knew her. Intimately. I saw it. The way she looked at him—"

"—was not the way she looks at you," Kael finished, unafraid of honesty.

Lucian said nothing. His fists curled at his sides. The last time he felt this kind of fear, this fracture in his control, was the day Beverly died.

He picked up his phone and dialed. Mona answered after one ring.

"She is to be in our bedroom. Naked. Before I arrive. She's been disobedient long enough."

"Understood."

He ended the call before she could say more.

Then he whispered, as if the walls themselves would betray him.

"Serena Vale... Please don’t be Michael’s daughter."

---

In the Devlin penthouse, Mona found Serena curled on the couch, half-asleep.

"Mr. Devlin called. He expects you in the bedroom. Naked."

Serena blinked, sitting up slowly.

"What? Now?"

Mona set down a wine glass and a

The envelope bearing the silver D.

"Now."

Serena opened it. Inside were the rules Mona had earlier given her. Fifty, the number scared her.

Rules about where she could stand. Where she could sit. Who she could look at. Her schedule—timed to the minute. What she could wear. What time she must sleep. What she must call him.

Rule 50:

> Disobedience will always be punished. And punishment will always leave a mark.

Serena’s hands trembled. Her body already ached from the last time. Her mind screamed that this was madness. But a small, terrible voice whispered:

You’re not ready to leave.

Mona sat beside her, her expression softer than usual.

"He’s not a bad man, Serena. He just... doesn’t know how to be good anymore."

Serena turned to her. "Why did you say he was protecting his possession? What did you mean?"

Mona hesitated, then smiled sadly. "That’s not for me to say."

Serena looked down at the rules again.

She didn’t know if she was being protected or imprisoned. But one thing was clear:

Lucian Devlin wasn’t done with her.

And Marcus Diego wasn’t going to walk away.