All Chapters of The Devil’s Boy: Chapter 31 - Chapter 39

Kain didn’t move at first. He just stood there in the quiet, his gaze heavy on Luca until it felt like it burned through skin to bone. Then, without a word, he bent and seized the collar at Luca’s throat, pulling him up from the chair with a snap of authority that allowed no hesitation. Luca stumbled into him, pressed chest to chest, heart hammering like he’d been thrown against a wall.“On the desk,” Kain murmured, voice quiet, almost gentle, though the grip on the collar had his lungs already tight. “Now.”Luca’s knees nearly gave out at the command. He obeyed, palms catching the edge of polished wood as he bent forward, the collar digging deeper when Kain’s hand kept him close, pushing him down into place. The desk was cold under his cheek. The air around him seemed to vanish, every inhale shallow, every exhale broken, because Kain hadn’t let up his hold on the collar.“Breathe slow,” Kain instructed, calm as ever, like this was nothing more than a lesson he’d been planning all a

Luca sat at the table, spine straight, hands folded the way his mother had taught him. The dining room looked the same as it always had, stiff lace curtains, the cross nailed above the cabinet, plates too white for comfort. The smell of cooked yam and stew drifted through the air, thick and familiar, but it felt off somehow. The kind of off that pressed against the back of your neck and made you want to leave without knowing why.His mother was serving dinner, careful and quiet, as if her entire body had learned to move in silence. The long skirt brushed against the floor as she moved, the faint swish of fabric marking her steps. She wore a faded blouse with lace around the cuffs, her hair tied back into a bun that had loosened at the edges. A few strands had escaped, curling against her temple where the heat from the stove had dampened her skin. The smell of oil clung to her. Jesse sat across from Luca, straight-backed and polished like a photograph. His black hair was slicked nea

The morning light came in weakly through the half-drawn curtains, slicing the room into soft lines of gold. Luca stirred, his lashes fluttering as the haze of sleep slipped away. The air smelled somewhat of clean linen and something else, cologne, and the lingering, unmistakable scent of Kain.He shifted, blinking against the light, and realized he was naked. Completely.His pulse spiked. Sheets clung to his skin, cool and thin, sticking to the faint sheen of sweat down his spine. He pulled them up fast, clutching them to his chest as he sat up sharply. That’s when he saw him.Kain was standing at the other side of the room, near the desk, sorting through papers in neat, precise movements. He wasn’t in his usual suits. Today he wore a plain black T-shirt that clung too well to his frame and low-slung pants that looked indecent on someone who carried authority like gravity. His blonde hair was a little disheveled, falling in uneven strands across his forehead, and a pair of black-rim

The sky had deepened into a soft, dying indigo by the time Luca stepped outside. The air was cool, a strange contrast to the low, feverish warmth sitting in his stomach since Kain had told him to get dressed.The outfit Kain had chosen for him was, in Luca’s quiet opinion, indecent. A deep navy silk shirt with an open front that plunged low enough to show the smooth line of his chest and the delicate dip of his collarbone.The trousers were slim, soft, almost too soft, the material brushing against his thighs when he moved. Kain had insisted on the belt, black leather, gold buckle, tight enough that Luca felt aware of every breath.Kain, however, looked devastating. He wore black, always black, but it was the kind that wasn’t loud about its power. A tailored shirt that clung across his chest, sleeves rolled up to the elbows to reveal the dark, intricate tattoos that wound across his forearms and down his hands. A silver watch gleamed faintly against his wrist. His hair, that infuria

They didn’t speak again for the rest of the drive. The car moved smoothly through the city, tires whispering over the wet asphalt, headlights slicing through the fog that had begun to roll in from the river. Luca sat rigid, his palms damp where they pressed against his knees, his throat dry. Kain hadn’t looked at him once since they’d left the curb, but Luca could feel him, could feel the hotness of his gaze even when it wasn’t there, like heat clinging to his skin.When the car slowed again, it wasn’t toward a restaurant or an estate Kain favored. The place they stopped in front of was old, sprawling, its stone façade washed in gold from the streetlamps. Balconies with wrought iron curled like black lace across the upper floors, and somewhere inside, music hummed faintly, smooth and low, something jazz-like and foreign.Kain killed the engine. “We’re here,” he said, voice calm again, that strange composure he could pull over himself like another skin.Luca blinked, eyes darting to