All Chapters of Sold to the Devil : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Emilia hadn’t expected Dante to accompany her—much less drive her there personally. It felt surreal sitting beside him in the sleek, black car as they passed unfamiliar faces and familiar corners. The silence between them was thick, but not uncomfortable. Dante didn’t speak, nor did he glance at her. He simply drove, eyes fixed ahead like he was preparing for war.The closer they got to her old neighborhood, the more Emilia felt her nerves stir. Her stomach tightened, her fingers laced tightly on her lap. But as the car turned onto her old street, a smile unexpectedly found its way to her lips.It hadn’t changed much.The same rusty fences. The cracked sidewalks she and Alissa used to run across barefoot. The same neighbors, older now, still sitting on porches whispering about everyone who passed.Dante noticed her smile from the corner of his eye but said nothing. Instead, he slowed the car and pulled up in front of a small, gray two-story house with peeling paint and a dying flower

The return to the estate was quiet.Emilia sat silently in the passenger seat as Dante drove. Her hands rested on her lap, fingers nervously twining together. She hadn’t spoken since they left her family home, and the air between them was filled with an unspoken heaviness. She stared out the window, watching the scenery blur past—the tall iron gates of the estate eventually rising into view.When the car rolled to a stop in front of the manor, Emilia unbuckled her seatbelt slowly and opened the door. She paused, then glanced back at Dante.“Thank you,” she said softly. Her voice was faint, nearly lost to the wind.Dante gave a slight nod, but before he could speak, she turned and disappeared into the house, walking briskly toward her room with her head lowered.He remained still for a moment, watching her retreating figure. Something in his chest tightened. There was a time not long ago when he wouldn’t have cared—when someone like Emilia wouldn’t have registered enough to earn a seco

Emilia was in the laundry room folding sheets when Ivy burst in, her face flushed and her breath short."Emilia!" she whispered sharply, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one had followed. Emilia looked up, startled.“What’s wrong?” she asked, standing.Ivy grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the quiet corridor beside the linen shelves. “Did you hear what happened?”“No,” Emilia said, frowning. “What?”Ivy’s eyes darted nervously. “Dante. Marcelo and the other mafia families under the Calhoun group came yesterday. They tried to challenge him.”Emilia’s heart skipped a beat. “What? Challenge him how?”“They accused him of being soft. That you… that you're the reason he’s grown weak.” Ivy’s voice faltered, lowering to a whisper. “They said it's your fault. That ever since you came, he's not been the same.”Emilia's lips parted, but no words came out. Her chest felt tight. “That’s ridiculous,” she finally said, voice trembling slightly. “I haven’t done anything.”Ivy looked a

The sun had long since dipped beyond the horizon, leaving the estate in a hush of soft shadows and flickering candlelight. Emilia had just finished arranging the last bouquet in the drawing room when Mara appeared at the doorway.“Lord Calhoun wants to see you,” she said, her tone unreadable.Emilia’s breath caught. “Now?”Mara nodded. “In his chambers.”Her heart pounded as she wiped her hands on her apron and followed the corridor leading to Dante’s private wing. She’d only been there once, and that was during her first week in the estate, when he’d summoned her to deliver some documents. Even then, she had felt the air in that corridor—it was different. Heavier. As if even the walls understood that this was the domain of a man not to be trifled with.Now, her steps echoed softly against the marble floors. She paused in front of the tall black door, hand hovering. Then she knocked.“Come in,” came the familiar deep voice from inside.She pushed the door open and stepped in, her eyes

It had only been a day since Dante left, but to Emilia, it felt like weeks. She didn’t understand why she felt so… empty. Her heart felt heavier, her chest tighter, and her thoughts more scattered. Everything she did, every room she entered, every corridor she passed, she expected to see him—standing tall and cold, watching her with those unreadable eyes.But he wasn’t there.She sighed for the umpteenth time that day, pausing halfway through polishing the silver in the kitchen. Her gaze had drifted again, far away from the task at hand. Mara, who had been watching her closely, finally snapped."Are you planning to polish that same fork until it disappears?" Mara asked sharply.Emilia blinked, startled. “I—I’m sorry.”“You’ve been like this all day. Snap out of it, girl. He’s gone, not dead,” Mara said with a frown. “Don’t make me remind you of your place.”“I know my place,” Emilia muttered under her breath, but she picked up the next piece of silver and resumed her task.Still, her