Chapter 2: The Devil’s Mansion

Darkness wrapped around me like a shroud.

My stomach still burned from where he hit me, and my limbs were heavy, numb, and trembling. I wasn’t dead, but I didn’t feel alive either.

Then… warmth.

A soft mattress beneath my body. Velvet sheets. A scent I couldn’t place—clean, expensive, and masculine.

I forced my eyes open.

A grand chandelier hung from the high ceiling. The walls were lined with bookshelves and intricate golden moldings. I was lying in the biggest bed I had ever seen, wearing an unfamiliar silk robe.

Where am I?

Suddenly, the door creaked open.

I turned my head weakly, and there he was.

The masked man—Dominic. But now, his face was fully revealed.

And I knew him.

“You…” I murmured, voice hoarse.

Dominic Villaraza. Son of Lucio Villaraza—my father's worst enemy. The boy I met only once at my mother’s funeral. He was older now, sharper, and far more dangerous.

“You finally remember me.” His voice was low, amused.

I tried to sit up, but my body refused. “Why… why are you doing this to me?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked toward me with calculated grace, every step echoing through the silence.

“You’re awake earlier than I expected,” he said. “I thought you’d be out longer. I hit you pretty hard.”

I glared at him. “You think that’s funny?”

“No,” he said, pulling a chair closer. “But I think it was necessary.”

He sat, legs crossed, fingers steepled. His eyes, now unobstructed by the mask, were worse than before. Intense. Icy. Beautiful—and dangerous.

“You kidnapped me,” I snapped. “You shot my father. My sister. You forced me to marry you!”

“You’re not married yet,” he corrected calmly. “That comes after your agreement. I still believe in consent.”

I scoffed. “Consent? You think pointing a gun at my family gives you that?”

Dominic leaned in.

“You have a choice, Celeste,” he whispered. “Marry me… or watch the people who betrayed you suffer one by one.”

My heart twisted.

“You’re a monster.”

He didn’t flinch. “Monsters are born when justice is denied. Your father destroyed lives—including mine. You’re just the collateral damage… unfortunately for you, you’re also the only thing I ever wanted from the Madrigal family.”

I stared at him, stunned. “You wanted me?”

His gaze darkened.

“Since that day,” he said quietly. “At your mother’s funeral. You cried alone in the garden. Everyone else was whispering about business and power. You were the only one who felt real. I never forgot your face.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“You’re insane.”

He stood.

“Perhaps. But I always get what I want.”

He turned toward the door, but just before he left, he looked back.

“You have until midnight, Celeste. To say yes… or watch your family lose everything, including their lives.”

The door shut behind him with a soft click.

And I was alone again.

But this time, I wasn’t just scared.

I was shaking from the weight of the decision I had to make.

Midnight.

Would I give up my freedom… to save people who sold me?

Or would I choose myself… and let the devil burn them all?

That word echoed in my head like a ticking time bomb.

I sat alone in the massive room, curled up on the bed that wasn’t mine. My hands trembled as I stared at the tall clock across the room. Each tick sent a wave of anxiety through me. Every second was a step closer to a future I didn’t choose.

How did my life come to this?

A man I barely remembered now claimed me like property.

A father who once called me his daughter had traded me for his survival.

A half-sister who lived like a queen had screamed for help, but not once had she defended me.

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to calm the storm inside.

“You are mine now, Celeste.”

His words haunted me.

I wanted to scream. To tear down the silk curtains and shatter the glass windows. But even if I escaped this mansion, I had nowhere to go.

And worse… he’d find me.

He had power. Connections. Weapons.

The truth was simple—I was trapped.

But what crushed me most wasn’t fear.

It was betrayal.

I thought of my mother. How she had held my hand every time I cried, how she taught me to stand tall no matter what. She would’ve never allowed this to happen if she were still alive.

A tear rolled down my cheek.

“I’m sorry, Mama…” I whispered.

Then came a knock.

A soft, measured knock—but still enough to make me flinch.

The door opened slowly, and in walked a tall woman in a black uniform. Her eyes were downcast, her expression blank.

“Miss Madrigal,” she said quietly. “Sir Dominic sent me to assist you in dressing for dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“He said you’d say that.” She placed a long velvet box on the bed. “But he insists.”

I stared at the box for a moment before opening it.

Inside was a silk crimson dress. Elegant. Expensive. Sinister.

Like something worn by the devil’s bride.

“I won’t wear this,” I muttered.

The maid didn’t argue. She bowed politely. “If you refuse to come downstairs, he’ll come up and carry you himself. He said those were his exact words.”

I clenched my fists.

He was testing me—again.

I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me weak.

"Fine," I snapped. "Help me dress. But don’t talk to me.”

“Yes, Miss.”

With robotic silence, she assisted me. I tried not to look in the mirror, but when I did…

I didn’t recognize myself.

I looked like someone else. Someone rich. Beautiful. Broken.

---

The dining room was massive. Chandeliers bathed the table in golden light. Everything sparkled—the silverware, the glasses, even the wine in the decanter.

But nothing sparkled more than the man seated at the end of the table.

Dominic Villaraza.

Unmasked. Unbothered. Undeniably handsome.

He stood when he saw me.

"You’re breathtaking," he said.

I ignored him and sat at the farthest end of the table.

“I’m not here to eat,” I said coldly. “Say what you have to say.”

He smirked, then poured two glasses of wine. "I already did. I’m just waiting for your answer."

I stared him down. “You’re insane if you think I’ll agree to marry you.”

He took a sip. “Yet you’re here.”

“To keep you from hurting them.”

He leaned forward, voice lowering. “And if they weren’t part of the equation... would you still hate me?”

I flinched.

What kind of question was that?

“You kidnapped me.”

“I gave you a choice.”

“No,” I snapped. “You gave me an ultimatum.”

He didn’t deny it.

Instead, he stood and walked toward me, slow and deliberate.

“I know I’m not a good man, Celeste,” he said, stopping just inches from me. “But I’ll be a loyal one. Marry me, and I’ll protect you from everything—even your past.”

I looked up at him, my heart thundering.

“And if I refuse?”

His eyes turned dark. “Then your father and sister will suffer until you change your mind.”

He reached into his coat pocket and dropped something on the table.

A phone.

On its screen: A live video of Papa and Selene, locked in a dark room, bruised and tied.

I gasped.

"You bastard—!"

He grabbed my wrist. Gently. But firmly.

"Midnight, Celeste," he said softly. "You either become mine… or watch them disappear forever."

He leaned down and whispered:

“Tick, tock.”