Semua Bab The Devil's Plaything: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Chapter 12: Caught Between Two MenSerena was restless.The mansion felt like a cage. Luxurious, cold, and too quiet. Mona had brought her food twice. She barely touched it. Hours dragged like chains and the walls began to close in.So when the sun dipped slightly and the air shifted, she slipped out. Quiet. Fast. Just to breathe.She didn’t think Lucian would notice.But he did.From the far window of the west corridor, Lucian stood in shadow, watching her dart between the hedges, her frame small against the stretch of green. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t move.Let her go.Let her think she had a choice.---Serena walked through the gates, breathing deeply for the first time in days. The city air was no cleaner, but it felt real. Familiar. It carried the dust and noise of life — a world she had almost forgotten.Her feet led her home. Not the house where Lucian kept her. Not the apartment Mr. Keller had cleared out. But the one she carried in her mind — full of noise, fights, chea

The cafe's aroma still clung to my clothes, a faint, sweet ghost of an afternoon that had been anything but. My encounter with Marcus Diego, his emerald green eyes kept haunting me , had left me rattled in a way I hadn't anticipated. It wasn't the lingering affection, or even regret, that gnawed at me, but a strange, unsettling vulnerability. I’d thought myself immune to such tremors, long past the girl who had once fallen so completely. I wasn't going to lucian’s place again, I resolved to look for my family myself, I wasn't going to be his plaything again, I wanted to be free,I went straight to a hotel and booked a room, stepped into the room happy that at least I could be a free girl for today, the click of the door echoing in the sudden silence, and stepped into the dim light of my sanctuary, utterly unaware that my every move had been meticulously observed. ‎Miles away, in the cool, sterile opulence of his penthouse, Lucian Devlin watched the video feed. Kael, a man as efficient

CHAPTER 15 — The Devil Remembers Lucian's Pov Serena Vale. Michael Vale’s daughter. The name rang like a cracked bell in my mind, reverberating through the marrow of a past I’d buried beneath seven years of blood, control, and silence. The report Kael had left on my desk still lay open, the ink not yet dry. But the words had seared themselves into me with the finality of a brand. Subject: Serena Vale. Parentage: Michael Vale. Deceased. I sat in the amber-lit hush of my study, the broken pieces of the glass on the floor. Michael Vale. The man who had nearly unraveled everything. The man I had killed. Exhaling slowly, The sound was not relief. It was resignation. And with it came memory—slow, sharp, and unavoidable. --- Seven Years Ago The voice on the recording was ragged, terrified. > “They’re moving it through the church-run orphanages in Monterrey. Painted as humanitarian aid. But the crates are filled with fentanyl, LSD, and morphine—branded with fake Red Cross stam

Chapter 18 — Worse Than the DevilMarcus Diego’s fingers drummed on the polished surface of the closed café counter.He had been here before sunrise, watching the world wake while shadows clung to the corners of the quiet lounge. Everything in this place—down to the copper kettle behind the bar and the hand-painted teacups in the display—was chosen with her in mind.Serena Vale.He had bought the café for her, down to the deed signed in her name. She had always wanted to work in a place like this. Back then, she used to smile while talking about steamed milk and pastries, unaware that life was preparing to break her instead.The closed sign hung in the front window, but the lights were dimmed low, just enough to make it feel intimate. Almost safe.Contemplating whether to call her or not, he dialed a number.It rang.Serena.He stood so quickly the stool behind him screeched.Hello, he said.“Marcus?” Her voice was cautious.He almost smiled. “You still recognize my voice.”“I never f

Chapter 20 – His Cruel Game Lucian’s hand left her head and trailed lower, his touch deceptively slow as it slid along her thigh. She flinched at the contact, her body already tense, her mind torn between anger and a heat she refused to acknowledge. “You think the devil is cruel?” His voice was smooth, almost mocking. “The devil at least bargains. I don’t.” Before she could react, his fingers found their way beneath the hem of her dress, parting her thighs with unhurried precision. His gaze locked on hers, daring her to look away as his touch brushed over her folds, slow and deliberate strokes that drew an unwilling gasp from her lips. Her fingers gripped the edge of the seat, nails biting into the leather. She tried to keep her breathing steady, tried not to give him the satisfaction, but every subtle press of his fingers burned through her resolve. The car’s stillness made every sound louder, the faint hitch in her breath, the steady rhythm of his movements, the low hum of the