Welcome to the Devil’s Kingdom

The city beneath him buzzed like a restless beast….horns, sirens, neon lights slicing through the fog…but up here, high above Manhattan’s chaos, everything was silent, cold, controlled and untouchable.                                                               

The top floor of the De Luca tower was all black walls and silence. A sleek empire in steel and leather. The scent of aged bourbon lingered in the air, mingling with power and polish. Not a single item cluttered the massive desk; just a crystal tumbler of half-finished bourbon and a matte-black phone. Everything about this room screamed domination.                          

And seated behind the desk, a king without mercy…. Vincenzo De Luca.

Thirty-two. Italian American blood. Asian stock mogul by name, underworld emperor by nature. His tailored charcoal suit hugged a body carved from discipline, not vanity. Broad shoulders, razor-cut jaw, light-olive skin that glowed under low light. But it was his eyes; golden-brown, unreadable, predatory; that held the world hostage.

He didn’t run a business. He ran a damn kingdom, banks, brothels, borders. Politicians bowed. Rivals vanished. He trusted no one, not even his own shadow.

His eyes skimmed across a confidential document when Liam walked in.

“Sir,” Liam said, placing a black leather folder on the desk. “This is the candidate for the new executive Personal Assistant position. Her name’s Seraphina Hill.”

Vincenzo barely glanced up. But when he opened the folder, everything stopped.

A photo stared back at him. It wasn’t glamour that caught his eye. No overdone makeup, no airbrushed confidence. She was caught mid-turn, hair cascading over one shoulder, eyes wide and soft like dusk, skin dusky and untouched by artificial light. Her lips full and parted slightly, making his throat tighten.

She looked... real. Unaware of how beautiful she was. Dangerous in her innocence.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing.

He flipped the page.

Age: Twenty-three.

Background: Orphaned.

Education: English Literature graduate.

Work: Freelance assistant. Clean record.

Debt: None.

Family: None.

“She’s an orphan?” he asked, his voice low.

“Yes, sir,” Liam replied. “Her parents died in a car crash when she was nine. Raised in a church-sponsored shelter. Quiet life, no red flags.”

“And you trust her?”

“Like family,” Liam said, standing straight. “She’s loyal, obedient. Has no idea who we are, thinks it’s a corporate position.”

Vincenzo leaned back, his eyes flicking back to the photo. Something in him itched. A curiosity he hadn’t felt in years. “She’ll stay at the villa,” he said. “I want her under my roof. Under my control. I’ll pay her twenty thousand a month. Add allowances.”

Liam hesitated.

He shut the folder. “I want to meet her. Tomorrow. Make it happen.”

********

Next Morning – De Luca Estate, Upper East Side

The estate stood like a fortress, draped in luxury and secrets. Beyond the towering black gates and manicured hedges, the villa stretched out like a five-star resort wrapped around a military-grade bunker.

Inside, marble floors gleamed under golden light. Security cameras blinked quietly. Everything smelt of power, wealth... and danger.

Outside, by the infinity pool that overlooked the city, Vincenzo swam like a panther in water. Every stroke precise, every movement deliberate. Tattoos coiled around his muscular arms and across his sculpted chest, dark ink against olive skin. Water shimmered on his shoulders as he cut through it with effortless control.

On the edge of the pool lounged Emma, the villa’s personal assistant…or, as she preferred to see herself, more than that. Dressed in a barely-there bikini, her legs dipped in the pool, red lips curved into a sultry smile as she watched him.

“Vincenzo, baby…” she purred, trailing her fingers along her thighs. “You need help unwinding?”

He surfaced, slicking his hair back, face unreadable. “You never wait for permission.”

“You don’t seem like a man who says no,” she whispered.

She slipped into the water like a siren, hips swaying, breasts rising above the surface. She swam up to him, wrapped her arms around his slick torso, and pressed her body against his, her fingers gliding down his spine.

“You smell like sex,” she breathed against his neck.

He chuckled, dark and slow. “Good. I’m not looking for romance.”

Her lips skimmed his jaw. He didn’t flinch, but he didn’t lean in either. She began massaging his shoulders, slow and sensual.

Then…..

Knock. Knock.

Liam’s voice echoed through the glass doors. “Sir, Seraphina is here.”

Vincenzo raised a brow, sighing. “Bring her in.”

Emma’s pout deepened. “Now? Seriously?”

“Shut up,” he said flatly, not even looking at her.

Minutes later, the sound of footsteps clicked against marble.

He didn’t turn. He felt her presence before he saw her. Something shifted in the air, like the breeze had changed direction.

He opened his eyes. And for the first time in years… he stared.

Seraphina Hill.

She wore a simple pale blouse tucked into dark jeans. No jewelry. No perfume. No designer labels. Just grace. Her walk was unsure but dignified, her wide brown eyes scanning the room like she’d entered another world. Her long hair curled naturally down her back, catching sunlight like ink.

Vincenzo stood. Water dripped from his torso, his body gleaming with raw heat. His eyes locked onto her and didn’t move.

Liam cleared his throat. “Sir, this is Seraphina Hill. Seraphina, this is….”

“Vincenzo De Luca,” she said softly, already bowing her head. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Her voice was soft but clear. Too calm for someone facing the devil.

Vincenzo stepped forward, towering over her with predatory elegance. His gaze swept over her unapologetically. “Such a sexy Personal Assistant,” he murmured. “You’re hired.”

The people around gasp.

Emma scoffed loudly.  “Vincenzo, seriously? You’re hiring her based on her face now?”

Vincenzo didn’t turn. “Call me ‘sir’ when you speak in my presence. And don’t question me again.”

“But…..”

He stepped closer to Emma, his tone cold as ice. “You’re just a maid here. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re more than that.”

Emma’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

Liam turned away, hiding his laughter behind his hand.

Vincenzo turned back to Seraphina, lifting his hand. She hesitated but placed hers in his for a formal handshake. But to him, it wasn’t just formal. Her touch was soft, different…warm. A jolt went through him. “Welcome to my kingdom,” he whispered, voice dipped in desire. Seraphina’s face stiffened. She forced a smile, eyes darting away from his intense stare. His grip lingered just a second too long. “Thank you... sir,” she said softly.

Vincenzo walked off, water dripping behind him as he returned with a file.

“Here. Sign this and you can start immediately. If you have anything important at home, bring it here....I’ll provide you with everything. "Clothes, food, whatever you need,” he said, the smirk returning to his face.

She reached for the file hesitantly, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Something felt…off. Too quick. Too intense.

Just as she was about to flip through the pages, her phone rang.

Tring… Tring…

She glanced at Liam. He nodded. “It’s okay.”

She quickly signed the last page without reading.

Inside, her instincts itched. Something didn’t sit right. But she brushed the feeling off. Maybe he was just one of those flirty, arrogant bosses.

“You signed without reading it,” he said in a whisper only she could hear. “Bold.”

“I trust Liam,” she replied.

Vincenzo smiled, not the kind that made people feel safe.

She handed the file back and turned to leave.

Vincenzo stood silently, watching her go. The way her hair swayed. The curve of her waist. That innocent look in her eyes.

As she disappeared around the corner, he exhaled sharply. “Such a girl,” he muttered under his breath. “I never expected someone like her in my life, that face, those lips. Those curves.”

He laughed, low and full of wicked pleasure. “Oh, Vincenzo De Luca. You are one lucky bastard.”

He reached for the contract she had just signed and tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk growing on his face.

“Welcome to my kingdom, once again” he said. “You just sold yourself to the devil.” He ran a finger slowly across her photo again, his smirk spreading. “Such a fucking beauty,” he muttered under his breath. “And she walked right into my trap.”