Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Devil's Mistress: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

ROXANNE POV I stood in Damien's office, feeling like a prop left out too long under a spotlight. The waitress uniform clung to me tighter than I'd like—black, sleeveless, cut to show just enough to keep the men tipping and the women glaring. The fishnet stockings itched faintly against my skin and my heels were already making their presence known. I balanced the empty tray in one hand, the other resting lightly on my hip, doing my best not to shift under his quiet gaze. Damien was settled behind his desk, leaned back in his leather chair like he owned the damn world—and maybe he did, at least this one. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, the fabric stretched just enough to show the toned lines of his chest beneath. The sleeves were rolled up casually, his wrists glinting with the sleek silver watch he never seemed to take off. He said nothing, just watched me—those unreadable eyes dragging over me in a way that wasn't entirely professional. Not that I expected any

ROXANNE POV I had just slipped through the back entrance, shrugging on the club’s sleeveless uniform jacket over my skimpy top, when I caught the low murmur of voices drifting from near the side hallway behind the bar.Two waitresses stood in the narrow strip between the storage room and the walk-in fridge—half hidden from view, puffing on cigarettes like it was a lifeline.I recognized one of them as Gia. The other, older, I didn’t know by name yet, but I’d seen her flash smiles that earned her hundred-dollar tips with no effort."Girl," Gia said, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling, "I swear, I’m one tray drop away from losing it tonight."The older one laughed, lighting her own cigarette with a flick of her chipped black lighter. "Don’t let the boss catch you slacking," She said, teasing. "He’s got that look tonight."Gia rolled her eyes. "Please. As long as we keep the men drinking and spending stupid, he doesn’t give a damn.""You’re not wrong," The older one smirked. "And if he d

ROXANNE POV I didn’t have plans for the weekend. Not real ones anyway. Just the usual: sleep in a little too long, clean up the mess of my small apartment, maybe stare at the ceiling until the thought of Kendrick or Garry made my skin crawl. So when Samuel texted me around midday asking if I wanted to get out of bed for a bit, I stared at the message for longer than I needed to. “You need it.” I told myself. Just say yes. I owed him a thank-you anyway—for the late-night drives, the way he subtly covered my back at work when I was two seconds from snapping at some grabby creep. So, I said yes. Two hours later, I found myself walking beside him through a crowd. Street musicians filled the air with mellow tunes, a light breeze danced through my curls and for once, my shoulders weren’t weighed down by paranoia or stress. Just…ease. "You good?" Samuel asked, glancing over with a half-smile. "Yeah. This isn’t what I expected when you said you had something in mind." I said

ROXANNE POVDamien stepped in without a word. Adam followed, his expression unreadable and the ginger-haired guy with glasses trailed behind them. All three of them wore dark suits, like they’d stepped out of a noir film and straight into my apartment."Are you okay? And where is he?" Damien asked, eyes sweeping across the foyer until they landed on mine.I nodded toward the hallway. "My bedroom." They didn’t waste time. As they moved past me, I shut the door behind them, then made my way to the kitchen.I lingered in the kitchen, dipping the mop back into the bucket and squeezing it out before going back to scrubbing the dark stains near the sink. The scent of bleach was thick in the air, stinging my nose. My fingers had started to prune from handling too much water, but I didn’t care.I needed something to focus on—anything but the way my hands still trembled slightly.Footsteps returned a few minutes later."Who did this to him?" Damien’s voice cut through the silence, low and t

DAMIEN RAPHAËL POV I watched as Roxanne turned back toward the guy at the door, her shoulders visibly tense. She let out a soft sigh, one hand curling around the edge of the door. "Look," She said, voice tight but composed, "I’ll talk to your father today. I’ll give him the cash I have now, then pay the rest tomorrow." She paused, narrowing her eyes. "And I’ll forget this even happened." Her hand made a brief, dismissive gesture toward him—toward that—like she was trying to flick the memory away before it burned too deep. He scoffed. "Yeah, right." But then his eyes flicked to me again and I met his gaze. Calm. Cold. Steady. That was all it took. His smirk faltered. His throat bobbed with a hard gulp. And suddenly he wasn’t so sure of himself anymore. "Well…uh—see you around then." He mumbled, shrinking back a little before turning and walking away down the hall. Roxanne didn’t move right away. She just stood there as the door clicked shut. Then she pressed her forehead