All Chapters of The Devil's Game: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

The lamps had been dimmed. Shadows stretched like silk across the stone walls of the corridor, broken only by the pale flicker of firelight bleeding under Lucian’s study door.Ayra hesitated before knocking.She hadn’t planned to seek him out tonight. But sleep wouldn’t come. Not after everything—after Elias’s laughter echoing through the halls, after that moment on the rug when Lucian had smiled, not coolly or calculated, but like someone who forgot himself for a second.She pushed the door open gently.Lucian was slouched in the chair near the fire. Not his desk, not the leather-backed throne he used for meetings. The armchair. One leg stretched out, head tilted back slightly, a tumbler of amber liquor resting half-forgotten in one hand.He didn’t hear her at first.His coat lay discarded over the back of another chair. His tie hung loose around his collar. One hand pressed against the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut.Ayra leaned against the doorway.“You look like someone dropped

The hum of conversation had dulled, like music winding down on a warped record.Servants moved silently around the long cathedral-turned-dining hall, clearing plates of forgotten desserts and refilling crystal goblets with vintage wine no one was really drinking anymore. The flames in the chandeliers flickered low now, casting long shadows on the towering stone walls that had once housed prayers, not politics.The holiday dinner was drawing to a close.Ayra sat quietly at Lucian’s right, spine straight, gaze composed. She’d stopped trying to decipher the subtext of every phrase being traded across the table. By now, she understood: everything was subtext. Every toast, every compliment, every absent smile was a dagger waiting to be unsheathed.Across the table, Uncle Marquin set down his fork with deliberate grace.He was older than most present—white-haired, silver-bearded, and with a face that had grown more charming than handsome over time. A glass of red shimmered in his hand like b

The afternoon wore a strange silence, the kind that seeped into walls and pressed against the windows like breathless anticipation. The sky outside the villa had dulled to an overcast gray, and the scent of a slow-approaching rain mingled with the stillness of the halls. Ayra wandered those halls without purpose, feeling strangely unsettled—like something invisible was pulling her forward.Elsewhere in the villa, footsteps moved with precision.Rhea, head of the villa’s security team, tapped in a quiet override code and stepped into his private study. The room welcomed her with hushed luxury—glass shelves housing rare volumes, dark wood, and the faint scent of Lucian’s cologne lingering in the air like a phantom presence. She knew the layout by heart, knew where his files were encrypted, where he hid things even from his most trusted aides.But today, she didn’t need to pry.She simply removed a document from her coat—an envelope, thick and carefully aged—and placed it gently on Lucia

Lucian Cyrus had faced warlords, traitors, and men who smiled as they plunged knives into your back.But none of that had prepared him for this.Ayra.Or more specifically—Ayra’s moods.One day, she was cold and distant, like a locked vault. The next, she flared with venom at the smallest comment. A harmless suggestion about proper trigger grip had earned him a glare that could melt titanium. When he’d told her to rest, she’d bitten out that he should rest his voice—somewhere far away.Lucian had backed out of the room like it was on fire.But then the next day, she said nothing at all. No retorts, no fire. Just long silences and absent stares out the window. When he asked her if she was okay, she blinked slowly and muttered, “Fine,” in the same tone one might use for “Leave me to die.”Lucian, a man who had brokered blood pacts and manipulated political dynasties, was at a complete loss.He told himself it was because of Lisbeth—her sister’s mysterious disappearance. That had to be it

The moment the doctor left, Elias bounded into the room, trailed by two nannies who could neither stop him nor match his speed. He launched himself at the bed like a missile.“Mom! You’re sick!”Ayra opened her eyes sluggishly. “Yeah...”“Can I take care of you?” Elias asked earnestly, already climbing onto the bed and snuggling beside her without waiting for an answer.Ayra’s lips curved slightly. “You already are, buddy.”Lucian watched from the foot of the bed as Elias wrapped his arms around Ayra and pressed a sloppy kiss to her forehead.Something...soured in Lucian’s chest.He stared. Blinked. Then narrowed his eyes at his own son.Elias, blissfully unaware of any sort of emotional disturbance, proceeded to offer Ayra his favorite blanket, a chewed plastic action figure, and a half-eaten lollipop from his pocket.Lucian had never seen Ayra smile more in one moment.She didn’t swat Elias away. Didn’t frown or wince. She leaned into the contact, even closed her eyes while Elias pet