บททั้งหมดของ Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book Two : บทที่ 171 - บทที่ 180

Niko I'm in a state of shock, my mind swirling in a dizzying whirlpool of confusion and disbelief. I never anticipated finding myself in this situation, yet a curious sense of validation wells up within me. It's as if a deep-seated instinct reassures me that, despite being under the sway of something invisible, an anger that rules my brain, I am still firmly in control and haven't lost my grip on reality. Luca stands shoulder to shoulder with Drake and Mitchel, each man radiating a unique form of presence that commands attention. Drake is nothing short of larger than life, his muscular frame straining against the seams of his tailored suit, suggesting raw power and strength. Beside him, Mitchel looms high above the others, his broad shoulders contributing to an imposing silhouette that overshadows the surrounding space. In contrast, Luca, though lean and less physically imposing, possesses an undeniable air of authority that envelops him like an invisible cloak, setting him apart

Niko The corridor, which at this point resembles more of a shadowy tunnel, stretches on interminably. For over fifteen minutes, we navigate the relentless darkness, intermittent lights flickering to life as we approach, casting a soft glow that only partially illuminates the path beneath our feet. My ears pop with the pressure of the ocean above us, and with every step we take, I feel her. Something tells me I'm getting closer. Finally, we arrive at another door. Aurelio uses his right pointer finger to press against the smooth surface, deftly opening it with a motion that I mentally catalogue for future reference. The subtle click of the latch echoes softly, a reminder of the secrets that lie beyond. If I have to cut his finger off to get through similar doors, I'm damn well going to do it. The door gives way to daring red walls, gold trimmings, and plush carpets that don't particularly belong. "I'm not going any further," Aurelio murmurs, his voice low and edged with defia

Niko As I survey the room, I notice three distinct doors, each providing access in and out of this space. The first door, positioned at the back, swings open to reveal a cramped area filled with storage cupboards. Among the clutter, I spot an elderly woman nestled among the shadows, her presence almost hidden. She exudes an air of gentle vulnerability, with silver strands framing her soft, weathered face. Though her age marks her features, she radiates a sense of inherent harmlessness, as if shaped by years of quiet resilience. I leave her there, carefully tucked away in the shadows of the cupboard, making a silent promise to return for her. As I step back into the bustling canteen thats filled with our men, my instincts guide me to the left, my fingers dancing over the control panel as the electronic system springs to life on autopilot. It buzzes red and so I shoot it much as we have done with the others. The atmosphere shifts abruptly as everyone turns, bracing for another cha

Bianca Despite Niko's firm grip around me, I could sense the simmering anger coursing through him, a palpable tension that hung in the air. I couldn't fully blame him for it; after all, I had kissed Benji—a decision rooted in gratitude for all he had done for me. But how could I have known it was him stepping through the door? It was all so tangled and confusing, a web of emotions that left me feeling trapped. Looking at Benji, my heart ached. He kneeled there in nothing but his jeans, his bare skin a canvas of scars and wounds, each mark telling a story of pain and resilience for anyone to see. It pained me to witness his struggle, the way he fought to maintain his steadiness, a stark reminder of the battles he faced. The sight was haunting, a mix of vulnerability and strength that made my own turmoil feel small yet insurmountable. No matter what I did, his safety weighed on me like a heavy charge I had to uphold. I could sense Niko's resentment simmering beneath the surface—I

Niko I'm going to kill him. Maim him. Every fucking body part will be skinned alive, and his dick fed to him like soup from a blender. I detest and abhor him with every fibre of my being, yet there exists within me a conflicting emotion—a fragment of my soul that cherishes Bianca. That part understands the bitter truth: to keep her by my side, I must endure this torment and remain passive in the face of my own resentment. Luca gently intervenes, preventing me from crossing a line I hadn't fully realised I was approaching. I had been poised to insist that she stay by my side, completely disregarding her own feelings and desires. In that moment, I recognised how close I came to stripping her of her autonomy, unwittingly trying to control her choices and dictate her path. I detest men who are willing to be that man, and I detest Luca for making those choices with Emma. "Niko, you're going about this all wrong," he warned as we assessed the wreckage in the room a warning similar