All Chapters of The Devil’s Boy: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Luca woke up before dawn, but in this place, that hardly mattered. The curtains were always drawn, making time feel like it was standing still. He slowly propped himself up, bare-chested, with a collar snug against his throat. He stared at his hands for a moment, flexing his fingers as though he could still feel the cold touch of shackles that weren't there. But they didn't need to be; this room was a cell without bars. The first thing he did was count the steps to the door, then from the door to the dresser, and finally to the big window with blackout curtains. He’d tried to open it yesterday, but it was locked, so today, he didn’t even bother. Instead, he pressed his ear against the thick wooden door, listening intently. If he stayed quiet enough and the mansion made the right sounds, he could pick up on the staff’s footsteps. Over time, he could even start to guess their patterns and shifts, maybe even find an opportunity. It wasn’t about escape, not yet. Just… observation, ro

It all started with that damn door again. The soft creak, the light pouring in from the hallway, and the hissing sound of boiling water on old tiles.Luca was small again, bald and shivering, standing naked on the chipped porcelain floor while steam curled up like smoke from hell."You know what you are, boy?" His father’s voice boomed, too loud in the cramped bathroom.His mother was crying again, just standing there, useless. Just outside the cracked door, her fingers twisted nervously in her dress, too frightened to move, all too accustomed to being mere background noise.Jesse was pounding on the door now. "Dad, stop. STOP! You can’t treat him like this!""I can do what the Lord commands, Jesse," his father said, a sickening calmness in his tone. He loomed over Luca, one hand clutching a Bible and the other pointing to the tub that reeked of bleach and heat."You step in there," he said in a low voice, "and let the water burn the filth off you.""I-I-I don’t—I’m not—""Say it!""I

The hallway felt strangely silent for a place so grand.Luca's footsteps barely echoed on the plush runner, his shoes too soft, likely borrowed from someone else, probably Kain’s.It felt odd; ever since that moment he said yes, his own steps felt foreign. After that kiss, both embarrassing and intimate, he felt uneasy for hours.He had leaned against the wall, breathless, Kain’s words echoing in his ears, “You treat me like I’m the devil, yet here… you can’t help but react to me, needing, begging for my touch.” The memory of Kain’s hand lingered like grease—it hadn’t changed since then.Now the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses wafted from deeper within the house, pulling at Luca like an invisible leash.Kain walked ahead, not beside him; Luca hadn’t earned that right yet. He wore a sharp charcoal suit that looked almost military, and of course, the mask was back.A polished, plain black leather mask with no eye holes, just slits like an executioner’s mask. He looked li

Kain didn’t speak as he yanked Luca into the dull alcove. Didn’t ask. Didn’t check.He just moved, and Luca, breath stuttering in his throat, followed like instinct. Like muscle memory, like prey dragged by the wrist into a corner too narrow for dignity and far too close to the marble-spined frenzy of the ballroom outside.“What—?” Luca gasped, but the question broke in half as his back hit cold wall. “K–Kain—?”“Shut up.” The words hit first. Then the mouth. Hard.His lips crashed into Luca’s like punishment. No tenderness. No slow, earned hunger. Just claiming. Tongue forcing past lips, hot and aggressive, tasting like wine and danger. Kain bit his bottom lip mid-kiss, made him whimper, then pulled back only long enough to growl against his mouth.“You let him look at you.”“I—I d–didn’t—”“You did,” Kain hissed. His hand had already shoved into Luca’s blouse, fingers sliding up under the silk like knives under skin. “And you liked it.”Luca squirmed, not away. Just… shocked. Overwh

Kain’s shoulder still seeped blood.It flowed down his arm, warm and slow, saturating the fabric clinging to him like damp velvet. It should have slowed him down, but he moved as if it didn’t affect him, as if blood carried no weight, as if pain meant nothing.Then he turned.Luca didn’t notice he was leaning until Kain’s gaze fell on his cheek, his blood.Not Kain’s blood.Kain’s body stilled.In the midst of a chaotic crowd of screaming guests, bullets scattered across the marble, distant calls for backup, Kain reached for Luca’s face with a steady grip, neither rough nor gentle, just firm and unwavering, like he was handling a weapon.Luca dared not flinch, his breath trembling like leaves in the wind.Since rescuing Luca, Kain hadn’t uttered a word, no curses, no shouts, just silent, bloodied breaths.The bullet wound in Kain’s shoulder continued to trickle blood, streaming down his arm like syrup, splattering onto the pale cuff of his shirt. His jacket had already been torn away