Semua Bab Trigger Code: Obey The Devil: Bab 41 - Bab 48

(Noah's POV) The case proceeded in very boring episodes until the second witness shuffled into the stand. Mid-thirties, hair slicked back too neatly, shirt collar starched like he’d ironed it five times before showing up. Supposedly a bartender, but I’d been around enough liars to smell one before they opened their mouth.The bailiff swore him in, and the prosecutor stepped forward with that smug ease of someone about to unwrap a Christmas present—ughh creepy.“State your name for the record.”“Derrick Holmes.”“And your occupation?”“I bartend at The Mantis Lounge.”The prosecutor nodded like this was all going according to script.“Were you working the night of July twenty-seventh?”“Yes.” Derrick’s voice wobbled for a half-second, then steadied. “I was in and out of the VIP room, serving Mr. Calloway and his party.”“And did you actually see Mr. Calloway that evening?” Derrick’s eyes flicked toward Lucien’s client, then snapped back like he’d been burned. “Yes. He was there. He an

(Noah's POV)Brother? My brain tripped over the word, replaying it. The Daniel guy said it so casually, like it wasn’t a grenade in the middle of this dockyard.Lucien didn’t move. He stood steady, posture straight like carved in stone, while Daniel leaned in with that loose grin and a sip of liquor like he was at some rooftop party instead of a cocaine warehouse.“So,” Daniel drawled, “business is good? Still keeping all these men sharp, I see. Father keeps asking after you, y’know. Says it’s been too long since you visited. He’s tired of excuses, Lucien.”I waited for something. A flicker. Even just a change in expression to acknowledge Daniel. But Lucien gave nothing. His voice was flat steel.“He can keep waiting.”Daniel laughed, head tipping back like he found the sky hilarious. “Always so cold, brother. I swear, one day you’ll crack into ice cubes.”Then his eyes slid over me, slow enough to make my stomach tighten. “But—what’s this? Who is this pretty boy?”Lucien’s hand twit

(Noah's POV)I sat there staring at the space the guy left behind like his shadow was still leaning over me. My chest felt weird, like a balloon blowing up with the wrong kind of air.His Lucien.Please. The only person allowed to call Lucien “his” is… well… me. Right?The words replayed in my head anyway, bouncing around like those error pings when your Wi-Fi dies: Lucien only gets aroused when he’s angry. He’ll tie you up and wreck you. He’ll never love you. He’ll just use you.I should’ve laughed. Except my face was hot and my throat dry.Because, let’s be real, I know Lucien. I know the man who folds his sleeves with surgical precision, who can slit someone’s reputation open in court and then ruffle my hair like I’m some street cat he picked up. The man who, yeah, talks about ropes and blindfolds and safewords in that calm voice that makes me want to say yes to things I shouldn’t.But I also know this: when I climbed into his lap the first time, he didn’t look angry. He looked lik

“Yeah,” Noah managed. “I—understand.” It was the answer Lucien wanted, an answer shaped by compliance, not by surrender. Lucien’s fingers slid from Noah’s throat and trailed down his collarbone in a movement that could have been tender if you ignored the context. He didn’t release him fully; instead his palm flattened against Noah’s sternum, steadying him. “You will behave,” Lucien said. “Not because I'm trying to control you or break you, but because I teach you how to hold yourself in a place where you don’t get broken. That distinction matters.” Noah’s breath was jagged. The wall pressed warm against his spine. His hands were needle-light at his sides. In the charged silence that followed—the sort of silence that is always louder than words—Lucien’s grip eased, becoming less about suppression and more about the finality of instruction. Noah swallowed. The smell of Lucien's metallic and citrus cologne filled him. He felt small and incandescent and very foolish for having push