บททั้งหมดของ The Devil's Plaything: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Chapter 21 — Caged In Silence The ride to the coast was suffocating. Not because of the silence, it was Lucian’s silence that caged me. He didn’t touch me. Didn’t speak. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, jaw tight, fingers flexing against the steering wheel like each breath he took was an effort not to break. When the car finally stopped, the night air was damp and heavy with salt. The house rose out of the cliffs like it had been carved from shadow itself, glass and steel staring down at the waves below. A prison disguised as paradise. Lucian didn’t wait for me. He opened my door, pulled me out by the wrist, and guided me inside without a word. No staff. No Mona. Just the two of us and the storm between us. He released me in the middle of the living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the ocean crashing against black rock, relentless and merciless. His silence was worse than his anger. “Say something,” I snapped, my voice sharp against the stillness. Lucian turned sl

Chapter 23 – Ten Nights Of Sinful PleasuresDaylight was my enemy.Lucian made sure of it. He ignored me, not out of neglect but with surgical precision. Every hour was measured, every choice stripped away. If I was hungry, he chose what I ate. If I was cold, he would decide when I got a blanket. I had no voice, no control—just silence and his shadow.But night was different. Night belonged to him.When the clock struck ten, he found me standing by the glass wall that overlooked the black sea. He didn’t ask. He never did. His hand wrapped around mine, pulling me away from the window, his voice low but commanding.“Tonight, you’ll learn the first rule.”I forced my chin high. “And if I don’t?”The corner of his mouth lifted. “Then you’ll learn slower.”He led me into the room with the grand piano, its polished surface gleaming like liquid under the dim lights. He sat, fingers brushing the keys, and began to play. The melody was sharp, deliberate, filling the silence like smoke curling

Chapter 25 – Hunted Lucian(Serena’s POV)The house was too quiet.I woke in the middle of the night, restless, the ocean’s waves crashing against the shore outside. The air was cool, the hum of the AC steady, but my body still burned from the mirror games Lucian had dragged me through earlier.I slipped out of bed, padding softly across the marble floor. My throat was dry, my body sore, my pride still stinging. I told myself I only needed water, a moment away from him.But then I heard it.A sound I’d never expected from him.“No…” His voice was raw, broken. “No, Liam… Mom… don’t go… Beverley—please, I’m sorry, don’t—”I froze. My breath caught as I turned toward the other side of the room.Lucian Devlin—the man who ruled me with silence and control—was tangled in the sheets, drenched in sweat despite the cold air. His body twisted violently, his fists clenched, face pale and contorted like a child trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake from.The sound of his voice cracked something

Chapter 27 -- The Girl Who Spoke BackLucian’s POV – Age 17)The chandeliers glittered above me like a thousand cold eyes, watching, judging, whispering. My father’s gala had always been the same: silk gowns, glass laughter, a hundred people pretending they weren’t afraid of the man who owned them all.I stood by the balcony, a glass of scotch I didn’t drink in my hand, the fitted white suit pressing sharp lines against my shoulders. I was already taller than most men in the room, already sharper in presence than the heirs circling like vultures. My father liked to show me off—his son, the one who’d carry the Devlin empire, the one who’d already learned ruthlessness like it was carved into his blood.And I played the role perfectly.Cold. Detached. Devlin’s son.Until the wine.It happened in a blur—one of the trembling socialite daughters brushed past me, her hand unsteady, her gaze too eager. The glass tipped, crimson spilling across my white suit like blood blooming over snow.The

Chapter 29 – Strings of FateFlashback Continued(Beverley’s POV)The knock on my bedroom door came too late in the evening for good news.Father entered, his face pale and drawn, shoulders sagging under the weight of something I hadn’t seen before—defeat. His once-proud posture seemed smaller, his eyes hollow.“Bev…” His voice cracked, and dread pooled in my stomach. “The deal… It was a scam. They bled us dry.”I froze. “What do you mean?”“The investors weren’t real. I trusted the wrong men. The company’s collapsing. If we don’t find a backer, we’ll lose everything.”Panic stabbed through me, but beneath it came anger. How could he have let this happen? Our company wasn’t just numbers—it was our lives, our family name.“There must be another way,” I whispered.He shook his head. “There is only one way.”And when he told me, I felt the ground rip open beneath my feet.Richard Devlin.The man whose name whispered fear through every corridor of power. He had agreed to save my father’s