Todos os capítulos de The Devil's Game: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

The room was dim, the cold stone walls echoing with Leon's ragged breaths and the soft drip of water from a leak somewhere in the ceiling. The air smelled of iron and mildew, and the only light came from a low-hanging bulb that cast harsh shadows on his swollen face. Blood pooled at the corner of his mouth, and his wrists were shackled tightly to the arms of the iron chair, leaving angry red marks on his skin.Lucian stood in the corner, dressed immaculately in black, his arms folded. His eyes, however, betrayed his calm exterior. They were alight with cold fury. This wasn’t just about betrayal anymore. It was about humiliation. It was about Ayra.A man in gloves approached Leon and backhanded him, snapping his head to the side. Leon groaned, coughing up blood, but the blow seemed to wake him."Are you ready to talk?" Lucian asked, his voice low and dangerous.Leon coughed again and gave a pitiful chuckle. "I should’ve known you’d find out.""You should’ve known a lot of things."Lu

Ayra stepped into the main house, the thick wooden doors shutting behind her with a solid thud that echoed through the marble-floored foyer. The place was grand in a cold, almost intimidating way. It smelled faintly of cedar, polished stone, and something darker—like secrets sealed into the walls.The chauffeur had been maddeningly polite. So had the housekeeper who greeted her, though Ayra had seen the careful distance in her eyes. It wasn’t scorn. It wasn’t fear. It was something worse—formality born from calculation. Every word felt rehearsed, sterile, as though the entire staff had been instructed to treat her like a piece of delicate glass: fragile but sharp enough to cut.She was already tired of it.The tension from the past week had been eating at her. Lucian’s face kept flashing behind her eyes—wounded, not just angry. It haunted her, stirred something inside her that she didn’t want to name. Guilt. Regret. The unbearable weight of not knowing what expression had been real

Ayra stood at the threshold, something soft tugging at her chest.For a moment, she just watched. How easily children created joy. How freely they smiled when they weren’t guarded. Guilt surged through her again.Taking a breath, she stepped inside.The boy didn’t notice her at first.She knelt carefully at the edge of the play area, giving him space. “Hey,” she said softly.Elias paused mid-reach, his hand hovering above a green block. He looked at her with narrowed eyes—recognition flickering across his features. And maybe a flicker of suspicion.Ayra offered a small smile. “I was... kind of rude yesterday.”He said nothing, just stared.“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she continued. “I was upset. Not at you. I just… had a bad day, and you got caught in the middle of it.”He tilted his head slightly.“I shouldn’t have spoken like that,” she added. “I’m sorry.”For a long second, he didn’t move.Then—cautiously—he nodded. “Okay.”Relief unfurled in her chest like a slow exhale.“I’m A

The hallway was quiet that night, the kind of quiet that seemed too heavy for a house so vast and alive. The golden lights cast a soft glow across the mahogany panels and velvet drapes as Ayra leaned against the marble balustrade of the upstairs landing, arms folded, eyes fixed on the main doors below. She heard the quiet click of polished shoes before she saw him.Lucian stepped through the threshold without fanfare, his dark coat draped over one arm, his face unreadable. He was always composed, but tonight there was a strain about him—a tautness around the mouth, a set to his shoulders that made her chest ache with something she couldn't name.Ayra straightened, brushing imaginary wrinkles from her dress as if preparing for war, but when their eyes met, neither of them spoke for a long moment. Finally, she turned and began walking toward the staircase. "You’re late," she said, her tone dry, but not biting."I didn’t know I had a curfew," he replied without sarcasm. That surprised her

The late morning sun spilled through the long vertical windows of the east wing, casting gold over the marble floors of the main estate. Ayra walked briskly down the hall, arms crossed, the faint echo of her heels trailing behind her. Her thoughts churned with unanswered questions about Elias, Lucian's secrecy, and the unsettling feeling that she'd stepped into a life that didn’t quite have a place for her.She rounded a corner sharply and almost collided with a tall man."Whoa there," he said with a startled laugh, stepping back as Ayra stumbled slightly. Strong hands caught her elbows instinctively. "Are you always this fast, or am I just lucky enough to be bowled over today?"Ayra blinked up at him. He was tall, with tousled black hair and a hint of stubble on a chiseled jawline. His dark gray eyes sparkled with amusement. He wore a charcoal button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms dusted with scars and veins, and slacks that told her he wasn’t just lounging around t