All Chapters of Devil's Bidding: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Arabella I glanced over my shoulder as Beth led me inside. Who was that man? Lucas already frosty demure had turned even icy at his sudden appearance. Something about the stranger nagged at me—his face, the weight in his posture, the way he held Lucas’s attention. I was certain I had seen him before. He was oddly familiar but I couldn't recall where I knew him from. I walked slowly to my bedroom. Lucas would come to me soon. He had to. I would explain everything, that I hadn’t tried to run, that I hadn’t taken the collar off, that none of what happened was what it seemed. Once he heard me, things would be fine again. Wouldn't it? I didn't understand what happened tonight but I knew it was serious. My hands were trembling and my knees bucked slightly. The fabric clinging to my body scraped against my skin, every torn edge pulling me back to that moment. My fingers dug at the dress in desperation, ripping it from my shoulders until the rags pooled at my feet. The motion only bro

Beth’s grip on her arm was firm but not cruel, guiding her down passageways Arabella hadn’t even known existed. Hidden staircases twisted into the dark, narrow stone corridors sinking deeper and deeper into the earth. The air grew colder with every step, pressing damp against her skin, while her bare feet slipped on the smooth floor. She trembled too violently to steady herself, her breath shallow as the weight of the unknown pressed harder with every descent.How could she not have known? She had believed she’d wandered every part of this house, believed she’d grown familiar with its every turn. But this—this world buried beneath the mansion, was something else entirely. Every stair, every hidden wall stripped away her illusion of safety. With each step, dread coiled tighter around her ribs.When the final door opened, her breath caught.The basement wasn’t the damp, empty hollow she had imagined. It was a hall—lavish, decadent, concealed beneath stone and silence. The lighting was

ArabellaI ran as fast as my legs could carry me, tears blurring everything until the walls melted into streaks of shadow and light. I didn’t care where I was going—only that I had to get away, get to the only place that resembled safety. My prison. My cage. My room.I stumbled inside, slamming the door behind me. The sound cracked through the air like thunder, too loud, too final. My knees gave way and I crumpled to the floor against the door, my palms flat on the wood as if I needed to hold it shut with the last of my strength.My chest rose and fell in sharp, ragged bursts, air tearing into my lungs. I felt like I had been drowning in that room—choked, suffocated, paraded like cattle. Their eyes had stripped me bare, crawling over me like insects, gnawing at my skin until I wanted to peel it off just to escape.I couldn’t stop shaking.The silk they had forced onto me clung to me like shackles. Every brush of the fabric against my skin made me want to claw at it, rip it off, tear a

Jerome had a situation.The news was broken to Lucas while the two men sat across from each other in the private room of an old estate. Lucas had only come because the invitation bore the seal of one of the Society’s higher-ups. Otherwise, he would never have wasted his time.“It’s rather unfortunate,” the man across from him said finally, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair.“That it is,” Lucas replied without hesitation, his tone flat, detached. He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, as though the subject itself were tedious. “He was a waste of space anyway.”The man’s brows knit, his expression uneasy. “You do not have a hand in what happened to him, do you?”Lucas leaned back into his chair, legs stretching out lazily before him, eyes half-lidded in mock disinterest. “What was the official reason behind his death?” His voice carried no urgency, only a faint, chilling curiosity.“An accident,” the man answered, his voice a little too quick, a little too forced.Luc

Arabella was still sitting in her dark room when Lucas found her.She hadn’t moved. Not for hours.Her hands kept brushing absently against the bruises on her knee as though the motion alone could soothe her.With Don Antonio, she had experienced what true hatred was.Hatred so sharp, so cold, it seemed to seep into her bones and root itself there.It froze her from the inside out.For the first time in a long time, she felt paralyzing fear.Not the kind that faded when the danger passed—no, this one lingered, coiling through her veins, making her whole body tremble in a way she couldn’t control.His words still echoed. They wouldn’t leave.Have you ever watched your whole family burn alive right in front of you? I have. He had asked her that. His mouth close to her ear. His breath crawling down her skin.Her body had gone rigid then.And before she could even breathe again, he leaned closer.Want me to give you a little snippet of what it feels like? What it smells like? The things