All Chapters of Possessed by the Devil: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

TamaraI woke up slowly, the ceiling unfamiliar. White. Bright. Too quiet. My body ached like I’d been tossed off a cliff, every inch of me humming with dull pain. My ribs throbbed. My lips were dry. Breathing felt like chewing on glass. I blinked again, trying to adjust to the light. The smell was off — lemony, clean, sterile. Not a hospital. Too quiet for a hospital. No beeping machines. No nurses. Just silence and that faint, cold lemon scent.I turned my head, slowly. The tall windows, the polished grey curtains, the sharp-edged furniture... This was Leon’s house. His guest room, specifically. I recognized it now. The one with nothing personal — no flowers, no frames, just silence and control. Everything about it screamed him.The memories came rushing back all at once. The alley. The men. My screams. The way I fought. The moment I knew I was going to die. My chest tightened. I gripped the sheets and tried to calm myself, but my hands were trembling.Then the door opened.Sean ste

LeonThe fucking screams still echoed in my head. Didn’t matter how many hours I had spent in the dungeon. It wasn't enough. My knuckles were raw. My shirt stained. I could still feel the steel under my palms. Still see the blood. But those bastards… they were holding out. Paid in fucking casho, no names, no faces. The same shit over and over again.It wasn’t enough.I needed more blood. More pain. I needed to rip them apart until they begged to fucking die.And still… Tamara.Every time I blinked, it was her face I saw. Pale, shaking. Those bruises on her wrists. The fucking look in her eyes when she opened them in the bed upstairs. It stuck in my throat, burning like acid. No matter how hard I tried to scrub it out of my head, it came back.I should have protected her.I should have never let this happen.My body was wound so fucking tight, I felt like I was going to snap.I needed a drink. A fight. A fuck. Anything to shut this shit down for one fucking second.I stormed down the h

TamaraI didn’t even know why I was going to him.I had barely slept. My head still throbbed. My body still aches in places I didn’t even want to think about. Every inch of me reminded me of last night. Every damn inch. And yet... there I was... padding barefoot down the hall, wrapping my arms tighter around myself with every step.It seemed simple in my head.Just say thank you.I owed him that much. For what he did to those men. For... protecting me.Even if I hated him. Even if I still wasn’t sure what the hell I was doing in this house.I told myself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just manners. Closure. A way to put an end to this nightmare. But my stomach was twisting the closer I got to his room. My heart thudded in my chest like a warning.I stopped outside his door for a second, heart beating so fast I felt dizzy.I didn’t want to see him. Not really. But something in me wouldn’t turn back. Wouldn’t fucking let me.I raised my hand to knock—hesitated. Then, before I coul

LeonThe dungeon reeked.Sweat. Blood. Decay. That same metallic stink that always found a way to settle in your throat no matter how hard you tried not to breathe. I stepped in, Sean behind me, the heavy metal door clanging shut as we moved deeper.I didn’t speak. Not yet.We’d given them 48 hours. Two damn days to talk. Two days to explain who the fuck sent them after Tamara. And I had given them one single instruction—talk or die slowly.But when I stepped into the cell now, what I found made my blood run colder than it had the night we pulled Tamara off that fucking floor, bleeding.They were dead.All three.Sean moved first, rushing in, crouching next to the first body. He touched the neck, but even from here, I could tell there was no pulse. The skin was cold, the eyes half-open, rolled back. Mouth slack. One had blood dried around his nose. Another had a streak of something darker on his lips—poison maybe. Or a fucking message.“What the hell,” Sean muttered under his breath.

TamaraThe room was empty.They’d all cleared out a few minutes ago, leaving nothing behind but the faint scent of cigar smoke and the quiet shuffle of papers. Leon didn’t say a word to me when the last guy left. Just leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a long second like he needed it to hold him together.I stayed on the couch. Still playing with his phone. Not really doing anything on it. Just tapping. Swiping. Glancing at him when I thought he wasn’t paying attention.But he always was.I know that now.I could feel his attention. Like static crawling across my skin. He might not have looked at me, but I knew. Every move I made, every breath I took... he noticed.I dragged my feet across the floor slowly, standing, not in a rush. His eyes flicked up, finally. Just a glance.That was all I needed.I walked over, slowly on purpose. Quiet. I didn’t say anything. I just leaned my hand on the edge of the desk and let my fingers trail toward his shoulder. Light. Barely a