All Chapters of OWNED BY THE DEVIL: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

183 Chapters

SOLD 1

The lock clicked behind me.It was a small sound sharp, final but it landed in my chest like a verdict. My fingers tightened around the door handle instinctively, my pulse spiking as I twisted it once, twice.Locked.I frowned and turned back to the room, forcing calm into my voice. “Why did you lock the door?”No one answered.The living room felt suddenly unfamiliar, as if the walls had shifted when I wasn’t looking. The curtains were half drawn, muting the late afternoon light into something gray and lifeless. My aunt sat rigidly on the edge of the sofa, her back too straight, her hands folded so tightly in her lap that her fingers had turned pale. She stared at the carpet like it might open up and swallow her whole.Marcus, my fiancé stood near the window. He had his phone in his hand, screen dark, his shoulders tense. He wouldn’t look at me.A knot formed in my stomach.“Marcus?” I tried. “What’s going on?”Still nothing.The silence stretched, thick and heavy, pressing against m

SOLD 2

I stared at him, my heartbeat pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else.Ownership.The word echoed in my mind, sharp and poisonous.“I’m not property,” I said, forcing each word out carefully, as if speaking too quickly might shatter what little control I still had.Dominic Voss regarded me with mild interest, as if I had just made an observation worth considering but not agreeing with.“In theory,” he said. “No one is.”He reached into his jacket and removed his phone, checking the screen briefly before slipping it back into his pocket. The movement was casual, unhurried an infuriating contrast to the panic burning through my veins.“In practice,” he continued, “people are owned every day. By debt. By fear. By obligation.”I clenched my fists. “You can’t just walk in here and decide my life is yours.”“I didn’t decide,” he replied calmly. “I collected.”Marcus shifted behind me. I could feel him there, like a presence I didn’t want to acknowledge. Rage bubbled up inside my c

HIS RULES 1

The car door closed with a dull, final thud.I flinched at the sound, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. The vehicle smelled of leather and something faintly metallic, the windows tinted so dark the city outside blurred into shadows and streaks of light. I sat stiffly in the back seat, my hands folded in my lap because I didn’t know what else to do with them.Across from me, Dominic Voss watched in silence.He hadn’t touched me. Not once. Not when I signed the contract. Not when I packed a single suitcase under his men’s supervision. Not when he guided me out of the apartment I had once called home.That somehow made it worse.The car began to move.I stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him, but I could feel his attention like a weight against my skin. He was calm. Entirely at ease. As if this were nothing more than a routine transaction.“How long?” I asked finally.His gaze sharpened slightly. “How long for what?”“Until we get there.”“A little under an hour.”I

HIS RULES 2

I didn’t touch the food.The tray sat on the table between the windows, steam curling lazily upward, filling the room with the scent of spices and something rich and savory. Under any other circumstances, I would have been starving. I hadn’t eaten since morning. My stomach cramped painfully, reminding me of that fact with sharp insistence.Still, I stood where I was, unmoving.Dominic noticed, of course. He noticed everything.“You should eat,” he said again, his voice calm, patient. “Refusing won’t prove anything.”Slowly, I moved to the chair closest to the table and sat. The chair was upholstered in dark fabric, soft beneath my hands, expensive in a way that made my skin crawl. Nothing in this room was accidental. Everything had been chosen—designed—to reinforce power and control.Dominic took the seat across from me, long legs stretching comfortably beneath the table.“Eat,” he said again, more quietly.I picked up my fork. My hand trembled slightly, though I hated that he could s

THE FIRST LINE 1

I woke before dawn.Not because I was rested, but because something felt wrong.The room was dim, shadows clinging to the corners like living things. For a few disoriented seconds, I didn’t remember where I was. Then the weight of the bed beneath me, the unfamiliar scent of dark wood and clean linen, and the steady presence beside me snapped everything back into place.Dominic.He lay on his back, one arm resting loosely at his side, his chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. He was asleep or at least he looked like it. His face in repose was different. Less sharp. Less carved from steel. The lines of tension that usually framed his mouth were softened, his lashes casting shadows against his cheeks.It would have been easy, dangerously easy to forget who he was in that moment.I didn’t.I shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him, and glanced at the clock on the far wall.5:12 a.m.Sleep was no longer an option.I slid quietly out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the plush ca

THE FIRST LINE 2

The dress was waiting for me.It hung in the center of the walk-in closet, suspended like a deliberate provocation. Black silk. Long sleeves. A high neckline that suggested restraint until I noticed the open back, the fabric cut low enough to expose skin I hadn’t planned on revealing to anyone.Especially not to him.I stared at it for a long moment, my chest tight.“You chose this,” I muttered under my breath.Of course he had.There were shoes laid out beneath it. Heels, elegant and sharp. Jewelry on the dresser minimal, tasteful, expensive. Everything curated. Everything controlled.I dressed slowly, my hands steady despite the storm inside me. The silk clung to my body like it knew exactly what it was doing, moving with me, reminding me with every step that I was being seen, even alone.When I finished, I barely recognized my reflection.I looked… composed. Powerful, even.That unsettled me more than fear ever had.The door opened behind me.Dominic didn’t speak at first.His gaze

THE PRICE OF DEFIANCE 1

The first act of defiance came quietly.It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t loud. It didn’t involve screaming or throwing things or running into the night like some desperate heroine in a cheap novel.It was silence.I woke before dawn, the house still breathing in that hollow, watchful way it always did. The estate never truly slept there was always a guard shifting weight, a camera blinking, a system humming, but the early hours belonged to me more than any other part of the day.I slipped out of bed without alerting anyone.Dominic wasn’t there. He rarely slept beside me. The room we shared if it could be called sharing, was a strategic choice, not intimacy. A statement. He allowed proximity when it suited him, absence when it didn’t.I dressed in simple black trousers and a sweater, refusing the clothes laid out for me the night before. That alone felt like rebellion. Small. Insignificant.Necessary.The hallway was empty as I stepped out, marble cool beneath my bare feet. I didn’t head

THE PRICE OF DEFIANCE 2

The house felt different after that.Not quieter, if anything, it was sharper. More alert. Like a predator that had lifted its head after sensing movement in the grass.I noticed it in the details.The guards’ eyes lingered a second longer when I passed. The staff moved with even greater precision, their politeness edged with something new; caution. Not toward me, exactly.Toward what I had done.No one said a word. That was the punishment.Dominic didn’t come to see me that day.Breakfast was delivered to my room instead of the dining room. Lunch too. When I asked where he was, the maid’s smile stiffened.“He is occupied, Mrs. Voss.”Occupied meant deliberate absence.By evening, the silence pressed in on me harder than any raised voice ever could.I paced the bedroom, bare feet tracing the same lines in the carpet. My mind replayed the moment in the west wing again and again the way his body had boxed me in, the calm in his voice as he’d dismantled my assumptions piece by piece.You

THE EDUCATION OF A PAWN 1

Dominic did not speak to me the next morning.That was lesson one.I learned it before breakfast, before the sunlight crept across the marble floors, before the house fully woke. Silence, I was beginning to understand, was never absence with him.It was intention.I dressed without assistance, choosing neutral colors, soft gray trousers, a fitted blouse. Not defiant. Not submissive. Observant. I had learned that much already: extremes attracted correction.When I stepped into the dining room, Dominic was already seated, a tablet in one hand, coffee untouched beside him. He didn’t look up when I entered.I took my seat.We ate in silence.Not tense silence. Not angry silence.Measured silence.I could feel him aware of every movement I made; the way I held my fork, the way my shoulders squared instead of curling inward, the way I didn’t rush. I matched his pace deliberately.Halfway through the meal, he spoke.“Tell me what you learned yesterday.”I didn’t answer immediately.“You expo

THE EDUCATION OF A PAWN 2

I didn’t sleep that night.Not because of fear; fear had long since settled into something dull and manageable, but because my mind wouldn’t stop moving. The gala replayed behind my eyes in fragments: the way conversations paused when Dominic approached, how people leaned in when he spoke, how his name alone altered the temperature of a room.More importantly, I replayed myself.How easily I had adapted.That frightened me.At some point before dawn, I gave up on sleep entirely. I dressed quietly and left the bedroom, moving through the halls with a confidence I hadn’t possessed weeks ago. The guards nodded as I passed. No one stopped me.That was new.The study waited exactly as Dominic had left it; neat, orderly, controlled. I shut the door behind me and crossed to the desk. This time, I didn’t reach for the books he’d assigned.I reached for the cabinet beneath the desk.It wasn’t locked.That, I knew instantly, was intentional.Inside were files, lighter than the ones in the west

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