CHAPTER 2 – A DEMON AND A DICKRESS.

2026. PRESENT. SEOUL.

☠️ SORA ☠️

I wake up gasping, body covered in sweat like I got rained on. “It was a dream… oh shit! it was a dream,” I say repeatedly, grabbing my throat as a river of relief flows through me.

Seemingly, I fell asleep as soon as I entered the limousine, only to have a horrific dream about A-jun hiding in my limo and choking me by the neck… to my death.

It was a long flight from Africa, but I couldn’t even sleep a wink because I was filled with worry and weight of being the next Don and being haunted by the rest of the family, especially A-jun, that prick. He wants me dead so bad that he even sneaks into my dreams to kill me now, causing me to sweat so hard that I now smell horrible.

I'm not necessarily trying to brag, but I’m the epitome of beauty. One look at my gorgeous, glamorous face, and your breath would be stolen away. I guess that’s the only good thing I inherited from my biological parents and probably half the reason the Don chose to adopt me as a daughter.

A-jun, on the other hand, he’s tall, well built, with beautiful, sweet tattoos, a damn delicious, well-toned face, and fucking hot body. He has this very tiny waist, and his large, toned upper body only fuels his angel looks and devilish character.

I was away for five years, and he became… that!

Back in Africa, I stalked him on the news every now and then… for my safety. In my defense, I needed to know his location so I could see if I’m still safe in my cave on the African continent.

Anyways, he’s not that handsome, totally not my type. I’m attracted to the heart and the brain, and A-jun has proven not to have any. He’s dumb and has a wicked, dirty heart. Even if we aren’t tied as family by the law, I will never be attracted to that dumb, evil beast.

A-jun is something you can be cursed with. “I wish you A-jun,” is a very valid curse.

“We have arrived at hell penthouse,” My driver announces, and I sigh.

☠️☠️☠️☠️

HELL PENTHOUSE.

I get down from the limousine, walking towards our side of the huge penthouse, all the while keeping an eye out for A-jun just so I know when to scream my lungs out for safety. If he didn’t attack me on my way, it’s because he has a much, more, crazier plan.

 We live on the top floor, while the underboss, A-jun’s father and A-jun himself, the new Consigliere, Gideon, who turns out to be the son of my dead uncle on paper, he traveled out of the country to study law the year I was adopted into the family and only just returned as commanded by the don to be the new consigliere since A-jun murdered the last one during his frantic search for me. They live under us, just like they are under us in the mafia system.

I enter the elevator with two men beside me, and soon, I reach our floor, walking towards my mother’s study.

For minutes, I stand outside my mother’s study, smoothing my dress. I had roughed it while dreaming of that demon choking me to my death.

Slowly, the men push the large study door open, and I step in after telling them to remain at the entrance.

My mother is sitting in her office chair, focusing on some documents.

“Hi, Mom,” I greet calmly.

“Hi, daughter,” My mother responds with the same energy without her eyes leaving the document she is holding. “Do you feel great being back home after five years?”

Great? Bite your tongue.

‘Hell Morgathor’. A powerful name worn by a lady, like a crown. A crown full of thorns. I grew up understanding that my family is a war that never ends; we are all threats to each other. I stand there, in the large study, close to the door, my arm by my side and my body stiff, like a soldier waiting for her next duty.

“You have to go to prison, Sora,” my mother announces.

Okay, finally, I hear my next mission… not great, absolutely ridiculous.

I freeze, wondering if I heard wrong. Even if I heard right, it’s probably a joke, isn’t it? But I know that my mother isn’t the one to joke, so I probably heard wrong.

“We have a bit of an issue,” she continues. “And it requires my daughter to go to prison to shut the mouth of some fools.”

Turns out I heard right, neither is she joking. Just great!

“I killed someone important to society... By mistake. He wasn't the target, but he was too close to the target, so he ended up becoming the victim with the target. We couldn't afford to miss that shot. Our target was going to leave the country; there was no better time to strike,” she blurts out, and I can only nod my head like I’m being compelled to obey, not like I can dare to say no to the don.

“He's a highly known person with a government position; the case won’t just go away, no matter how hard I try to cover it up. A useless reporter pulled a disturbing stunt; half of South Korea is already aware our family killed him. Also, our rivals are trying to use this predicament against us. Now, our most important homework is to silence them,” she continues.

“I could have gotten someone to be punished, but I’ve pulled this trick many times, and this time it won’t work. People from a higher authority are pressing for our family's arrest. If you, Sora, my daughter, go to prison for a while, I believe this case would be forgotten by the public, the press, and also the higher authorities. They’ll believe they have gotten their justice, and then I can pull you out.”

She proceeds to add another blow, “Hell Morgathor prison is the worst place anyone can ever be, even for you. The criminals there are the selected worst criminals in the whole of South Korea. They have committed genocide, massacre, serial murder, atrocities, terrorism, premeditated murder, mass raping, pedophilia, and the worst crime you can ever think of. The fact that you’re Sora Hell Morgathor wouldn’t make your experience any better; if anything, it would make it worse. Your family trapped them in a place that shitty, they’ll want you dead, they’ll hunt you like a rabbit, and you’ll be all alone with no men to protect you."

"Sora..." she calls, and I raise my head to meet hers, "You have been in Africa for five years, and you've grown so much, no one would remember what you look like. Stay out of everyone’s sight, and never mention that you're the only child of the Don of Hell Morgathor.”

Well, say no more.

My mother gets up and walks towards me. Seemingly, she has more to say. She holds my shoulder, but even that isn’t enough to calm my already trembling body and catapulting heart rate.

“I planted a female security in disguise as a prisoner to help you. Her name is Jane; she’s an American, and very capable,” my mother says as if it would make me feel any safer, that’s like one person for me in the midst of a thousand against me. “The maximum is three years, stay alive for three years, and I’ll get you out of there. You can also consider this as your last training and test to become the Don of Hell Morgathor. I’d like to believe that all you did in Africa wasn’t just eating, sleeping, and watching BLs. You'd better have learnt some self-defense techniques.”

☠️☠️☠️☠️

Eating, sleeping, and watching BLs were precisely all I did in Africa; my life was better off in that part of the world. I didn’t have to worry about being Hell Morgathor, nor did I need men flocking around me for protection.

Self-defense techniques? I can’t throw a stone to save my life.

The good thing is, even with the many men and women who might be after my life in prison, I’d debate supporting the motion that it’s safer than being near A-jun in this penthouse.

“Yes, being stuck with A-jun in this penthouse is far worse,” I say to myself, inhaling sharply.

I drag my feet down the hallway, completely oblivious to my surroundings, but as I look down the hallway, I see a dark figure resting against the wall with both hands in his pockets, looking straight at me. Such a simple action oozing a dangerous aura.

It’s like I summoned him with my thinking, the biggest fear I was talking about. Standing at the end of the hallway. It’s the demon, a beautiful, divine creature. I’m stunned, but I can’t be deceived by this beauty, because I know the motherfucker is just hiding his horns.

My family is indeed so scary, very scary, but growing up, what scared me most wasn’t my family at all; it’s this scumbag standing in front of me.

Now that I’m in front of him again, every single muscle in my body has refused to listen to me. Instead, it is responding to him. I realize my true hell is not the family; I simply generalized it. To me, hell is one person, one person worse to me than all my generations put together, my cousin on paper. If my family rules hell, he owns hell; he controls those who rule hell. He’s two times the devil. I believe even the devil would bow at his feet in fear of crossing something so dark and dangerous. He’s evil. He’s the reason I was sent to Africa five years ago, the reason I’m always tiptoeing in this penthouse, and the reason I went through so much trauma.

Suddenly, a movie begins to play in my head, a movie with me as the main character and A-jun, the villain.