All Chapters of Sold to the Devil : Chapter 61 - Chapter 66

The night air was growing heavier, cooler. Hints of dusk painted the horizon with soft shades of lilac and deepening navy. Lanterns strung across the garden lit up one by one, casting a golden glow over the estate grounds. The laughter and chatter from the grand ballroom spilled into the courtyard as the party grew more lively.Inside, the elite mingled effortlessly—men in fine suits discussing politics and under-the-table business, women in glittering gowns sipping expensive wine and exchanging gossip in hushed tones. The Moreau family, as hosts, made sure everything exuded perfection. Every dish, every string of music, every glance exchanged had been meticulously curated.Dante stood near the center of it all, surrounded by powerful men who hung on to every word he said. Dressed in a deep emerald suit—tailored to precision and subtly matching Emilia’s gown—he was the picture of elegance and control. His expression remained unreadable, as always, but his eyes flicked toward the ballr

The morning sun filtered weakly through the tall glass windows of Dante's estate, casting pale golden rays across the stone floors. The aftermath of the attack still lingered in the air. Guards patrolled every corner, the once-lively gardens now silent, save for the occasional chirping of birds that didn’t know better. Emilia paced nervously in her room. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and fear. She hadn’t slept well; images of blood, howls, and monstrous creatures haunted her dreams.Mochi rubbed against her ankle, sensing her unease."Where is he?" she muttered under her breath. "He said it would be okay, but he’s still not back. What if—"The door creaked open. Emilia’s head snapped toward it, her heart racing, but she relaxed slightly when she saw Dante step in. He looked exhausted—his hair slightly tousled, his dark shirt clinging to him, as if he’d been out all night. And he probably had. Still, he stood tall, composed, eyes scanning the room before finally landing on

Marcello paced his room like a caged animal, his jaw clenched tight as he held the phone to his ear. His fingers dug into the edge of the desk, knuckles white with tension. The aftermath of the party had left a trail of destruction no one had anticipated—and among the dead was his sister.“You told me it was just going to be a controlled attack,” Marcello hissed into the receiver. “You said it would cause chaos, make Dante look incompetent, destabilize him. You never said it would get Lillian killed!”The voice on the other end was calm, too calm for Marcello’s fraying nerves.“That’s the price you pay when you play in the dark, Marcello. Casualties are inevitable. If your sister got caught in the crossfire, maybe she shouldn’t have been there.”Marcello gritted his teeth. “Don’t you dare blame her. You manipulated me into agreeing to this madness! I never wanted anyone to die—least of all my own blood!”A knock on his door snapped his attention away. Before he could respond, the door