บททั้งหมดของ THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

Nyx's pov.They say everyone wakes up excited on their birthday. But not me. I hated it. Every second. Every reminder that I was born a shadow to someone else's spotlight.In this house, birthdays weren’t for both of us. They were for her — Camila. The golden twin. Brilliant. Beautiful. She wore her excellence like a crown, effortlessly claiming what I had to bleed for. She glided, with grace carved by our parents' praise and worship. Every test score, every smile, every breath she took came with a standing ovation.And me? I was the forgotten daughter — the one no one remembered giving birth to. That morning, I heard them before I saw them. Laughter. Clinks of wrapping paper. My mother’s voice laced with delight. "You deserve this, sweetheart. Happy birthday, baby girl." I stayed curled under the blanket, still as stone. But I listened. I always listened.The gift — a delicate necklace from Paris. My father’s voice followed. “Wear it tonight. You'll look perfect with it at dinner.”

Nyx's povI stared into the mirror, hands trembling slightly as I adjusted the strap on my dress. My lipstick was fading. My eyes looked hollow. What the hell was I doing here? This place wasn’t just loud. It was alive — but not in a good way. It pulsed with sin. Like every corner of it had witnessed something wicked and clapped for it.I splashed water on my face, took a breath, and walked out.That’s when I saw them. Two men. Ripped. Cold. Standing like statues outside the ladies’ room door. One stepped forward. “The Boss wants you.”Excuse you!...Just that!. No name, No smile. Just a sentence that twisted my stomach into a knot. I should’ve run.But I didn’t. Maybe because deep down… I knew this place was cursed from the moment I stepped in. I just didn’t know it was possessive. I followed them. Quietly. My heels echoing against the floor like countdowns. The hallway was long. Too quiet.When they opened the door to the private room, I walked in—and he was there. He didn’t speak muc

I didn’t sleep that night.I tossed. Turned. Stared at the cracked ceiling until the plaster patterns began to look like scars. In my chest, a weight pressed harder than anything I’d ever carried. Not the hunger. Not the shame. Not even the labor pains that brought my daughter into this world.Why now?Why did he show up, only to disappear again?Was he cruel or kind? A curse or a delayed punishment?I hated how his presence had cracked something open inside me again—something I’d long buried in the rubble of survival.Days passed and I didn’t call. I forced myself to function. For my baby and For what little I still had left of my sanity. As I walked home one night. I got a phone call.The words came fast. The world spun even faster. Hit and run. Convenience store. Emergency room.My daughter.I dashed to the hospital, there, the stench of antiseptic nearly brought me to my knees. But it was the image of her—bandaged, pale, unmoving-that gutted me.The doctor didn’t sugarcoat it. “S

Ricardo’s POVThe bass in oscuro throbbed wildly through the VIP court, rattling the ice in my glass. The air was a heady mix of expensive perfume, spilled champagne, and the low moans of two women tangled against me. One straddled my lap, her nails grazing my jawline, while the other knelt between us, lips tracing the inside of my thigh. I liked them like this—hungry, eager to please, ready to forget their names in exchange for the glint of my money.A fresh stack of chips sat untouched on the glass table, my winnings from the night. My luck had been relentless lately—proof, I told myself, that the universe was finally returning what Luis Renz had stolen from me.My cut.My shares.That bastard had been skimming me for years, hiding it under clever accounting, smooth smiles, and “business strategy.” Always the respectable kingpin, the gentleman criminal. Meanwhile, I was left to scrape from the scraps he decided to toss my way. I had waited, bided my time, taken what I could in the s

Nyx’s POV I barely remembered how I made it out of Basque that night. The music, the smoke, the weight of his stare still clung to me as I slipped into the dark. My heart wasn’t steady until I reached the hospital. Rynna. I arrived just in time—the surgeons had been waiting for payment, and without it, my daughter would have been another name lost in the cold halls of despair. My hands trembled as I signed the papers, the bills heavier than gold, but I didn’t care. When the doors finally opened hours later, and I was told the surgery had been a success, my knees gave way. I rushed to her side, weeping quietly as I pressed her small hand against my lips. My little girl would live. She’d heal. And even if it meant walking willingly into the trap Renz had set,whatever shame, whatever cost—it was worth it for this moment. Camila slipped in just before dawn. The sight of her was both comfort and reminder of the life we once shared, free of all this madness. She asked me how I managed