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All Chapters of Encore with the Devil: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

186 Chapters

CHAPTER 160 – Baby & Bloodlines

Labor starts at three in the morning because, of course, it does.I wake to a deep, twisting cramp that feels different from the practice ones Ava has been reassuring me about for weeks.More…purposeful.I lie there for a second, hand on my stomach, counting breaths.Another one hits.“Okay,” I whisper. “Okay.”Beside me, Kael is dead asleep, mouth slightly open, one arm flung over his head.I nudge his shoulder.“Kael,” I say.He makes a noise that sounds like “mmph.”“Kael,” I say again, sharper this time.His eyes snap open.He goes from horizontal to fully upright in half a second.“What—who—where?” he demands, already reaching for the nightstand like he expects a gun to be there instead of a water glass and my prenatal vitamins.“My water didn’t break,” I say. “But something’s…starting.”He freezes.Then, it launches into motion in a way that would be funny if I wasn’t busy breathing.“Ava,” he says, already grabbing his phone. “We call Ava. We call the driver. We wake Sofie. We—

CHAPTER 161 – Boundaries with the World

We don’t decide right away.The nurse comes in, checks my blood pressure, and fusses with the IV. Ava swings by to make sure my stitches look good. Sofie returns from the cafeteria with hot chocolate on her upper lip and three different stories about how many nurses she “helped.”Life keeps happening in this little room while the cameras circle outside like sharks.When it finally quiets again—Bianca has taken Sofie for a walk around the ward, Ava’s gone to bully the overnight staff into resting—we’re back where we were:Me. Kael. Our sleeping daughter. And the question.He sits in the same chair, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like the answer’s written there in a language only he can read.“Say we let Jace sneak us out the back,” he says eventually. “No one sees you leave. No one knows she’s born. For a while.”“For a while,” I echo.He nods.“They’ll guess,” he says. “They already think you’re pregnant. You disappear, come back with an extra stroller, it’s obvious.

CHAPTER 162 – Legacy in Motion

The venue isn’t big.That’s the first thing I notice when we step out of the car—no red carpet, no step‑and‑repeat wall, no screaming fans pressed against barricades. Just a modest brick community arts center with a hand‑painted banner over the door:**LULLABY HOUSE FOUNDATION – FIRST YEAR IMPACT NIGHT**The second thing I noticed is that they spelled my name right on the sandwich board sign by the entrance.Eliana Cruz, it says. Not Elaina. Not Aliana. Not *E. Cruz, controversial mafia muse*.Just my name.“That’s new,” I murmur.Beside me, Kael’s mouth twitches.“I threatened them,” he says.“I’m choosing to believe that’s a joke,” I reply.He doesn’t confirm or deny.Sofie bounces between us, wolf plush tucked under one arm, the other hand tangled in his fingers.“Is this like a concert?” she asks. “Do I get to clap? Are there snacks?”“Yes, yes, and absolutely yes,” I say. “But it’s not my concert. It’s…more of a show‑and‑tell.”She considers this.“Do I have to be quiet?” she ask

CHAPTER 163 – Home & Harmony

Morning sounds different now.No alarms, no hotel wake‑up calls, no manager pounding on the door because a radio station wants an early interview.Just:“Mamaaaaaa, she’s chewing my shoelace!”A wail from the baby monitor.The clatter of something hitting tile.And Kael swears under his breath as his foot meets plastic.“Who the—what demon designed this thing?” he hisses.I roll onto my back and squint at the ceiling.Welcome to the new normal.By the time I make it to the kitchen, the chaos is in full swing.Sofie is perched on a stool at the island, pajamas inside out, hair in a lopsided braid she definitely did herself, spoon in one hand, and wolf plush in the other. There is as much cereal on the counter as in her bowl.She’s singing my latest single at the top of her lungs.Badly.“*You don’t own my heart, you just rent the aparrrrt—*”“That’s not the line,” I say, heading for the coffee maker.She blinks at me, milk on her lip.“Yes it is,” she says. “I like mine better.”I can’

CHAPTER 164 – The Rewritten Note

It takes me a few days to bring it up.Not because I’m afraid.Because I want the moment to feel…intentional. It's not like tripping over a ghost in a laundry pile again.On a quiet Sunday afternoon, the house is unusually still.The baby is napping.Sofie is at Rosa’s, allegedly doing homework, and actually—if the last three visits are a pattern—teaching her aunt the choreography to some viral dance.Kael is in the living room, half‑watching a soccer game with the sound off, a book open facedown beside him like he can’t decide which kind of distraction he wants.I go to the bedroom.Open the drawer.The note is right where I left it.Silent.Small.No longer a ghost, just part of the story.I take it out and smooth the fold gently.Then I grab a pen from my nightstand and tuck both into my palm as I head back down the hall.He looks up when I step into the room.His gaze flicks immediately to my hand.His body goes still.“Is that…?” he asks.I nod.“It fell out of your shirt the oth

CHAPTER 165 – Time Skip: Teenagers & Tours

The tour bus smells like hoodie strings and stage sweat.Not mine, mostly.Sixteen tour dates in, and the scent inside this rolling home has mutated into something that is part Wes Anderson drama, part suburban food court, and part very spoiled cats I never agreed to haveI’m at the tiny makeup counter, blending a little concealer under my eyes while one of the new backing vocalists attempts to fix my belt at the waist, when Sofie appears in the mirror behind me.“Ma,” she says.I don’t need to look to know the tone.That “ma” is weighted with opinions, a stubbornness she absolutely did not inherit from me, and a half‑nibbled granola bar.“Yes?” I say.She leans on the back of my chair, plucks at one of my curls.“You forgot the line in the bridge again,” she says.I close my eyes for a beat, breathe in, breathe out.“I improvised,” I say.“You muttered,” she says. “It was on TikTok in six minutes.”“Great,” I say. “Marketing material.”She sighs with the long-suffering patience of so

CHAPTER 166 – Same Devotion, New Wrinkles

Post‑show quiet always feels a little unreal.The roar fades, the lights go down, and what’s left is the hum of the generators outside, the faint rattle of cases being loaded, and the soft slap of my sneakers on concrete as I head down a service hallway that smells faintly of popcorn and disinfectant.Someone already taped a hastily printed sign to the door at the end:**ELIANA – DRESSING ROOM**The star they drew under my name is lopsided.I love it.Inside, the room is small and functional. Couch. Folding table with fruit that nobody touched. A mirror ringed with bare bulbs. Two bottles of water sweat on the counter.Kael is already there.Of course he is.He’s sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, forearms braced, still in his dark T‑shirt and jeans, a towel looped around his neck like he’s the one who just sprinted around under hot lights.He looks up when the door clicks shut behind me.Slow smile.“Hi,” he says.“Hi,” I echo.For a second, we just look at each other.Then I

CHAPTER 167– Law of Their Own

The hearing room is smaller than it looks on TV.There are no soaring ceilings or echoing marble floors. Just rows of worn wood benches, a dais with microphones that squeak when someone breathes too close, and a faint smell of old paper and burnt coffee.I sit in the second row, not at the table.That part is deliberate.The lawyers, advocates, and staffers who did the daily grinding work of this bill belong up front.I belong here.Visible.Not center.Kael sits beside me in a dark suit that makes him look more like a businessman than a ghost from an old case file. He hasn’t put on a tie despite Rosa’s threats.On my other side, Sofie jiggles one leg so hard the entire bench vibrates. She’s in a blazer and combat boots, hair pulled back in a way that’s more “strategic mess” than “formal,” trying very hard to look unimpressed and failing.Mireya is at home with Bianca.She’d wanted to come, but even I have limits.The committee chair clears his throat into the mic.“Thank you all for

CHAPTER 168 – Kids’ Perspective

I’m fifteen, my family is insane, and yes, I know everyone says that, but I can prove it.Exhibit A: Curfew.Do you know anyone else whose parents negotiate a curfew like it’s a nuclear treaty?“Eleven,” Dad said this morning, arms folded like a final boss.“Eleven thirty,” I said, because I am not a coward.“Eleven,” Mom repeated, in her soft‑voice‑that‑means‑no voice.I had charts. I had statistical evidence. I had screenshots of other tour kids’ curfews. They still made me present my case like I was in front of HR.I got eleven thirty, but only because I agreed to “self‑directed warm‑ups” and “no belting in the parking lot after midnight," Sofie, we talked about this.”Exhibit B: Security.There is a man outside our house whose entire job is to read a book in a car and occasionally glare at joggers.I am not kidding.He pretends he’s “monitoring the perimeter,” but I have seen that copy of *Dune* in his hands for like three months, and I’m pretty sure he’s still on page forty‑somet

CHAPTER 169 – The Wolf & The Song

I hold out for a week.Which, if you know me, is basically a miracle.Seven days of eating cereal at the same table as the man in that photo; seven days of Mom humming in the kitchen while the stuffed wolf stares down at us from the bookshelf like it knows things.Every time I look at Dad’s hands, I see them wrapped around that plush and think, *My father once invaded a hotel hallway with a toy and a death wish.*Every time someone knocks on a door, I think of that camera angle.It is eating me alive.On the eighth night, we’re all in the living room.Sunday.Family movie.There’s a half‑finished puzzle on the coffee table, three bowls of popcorn, two half‑drunk mugs of tea, and a blanket fort in the corner where Mireya has declared she is “emotionally unavailable” because Dad said no to her watching some horror movie her friend recommended.The TV is paused on a rom‑com we picked mostly because it promised a “ridiculous meet‑cute.”The main character just spilled coffee on a stranger

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