All Chapters of Married to the Devil: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Tristan’s POVThe basement looked the same as it always did. Like it remembered every silence that had ever settled down here. I stood just beyond the reach of the dim bulb, hands in my pockets, staring at the man slumped on the chair behind the bars.“Three days,” I said quietly, glancing at my wristwatch. “I mean… two days from now, I’ll be getting married. Shame you won’t be there to watch.”He didn’t respond. He rarely did anymore, just breathed through his broken nose and stared at the floor like it held answers I’d never given. Then slowly, he lifted his head. His left eye was still swollen shut from last week. “That’s—” a sharp cough tore through him. “That’s good, Tristan.”I laughed softly. “Good? Seeing you rot down here feels a lot better than good. And you’ll be here for a very long time. That I promise you.”“I’m begging you, Tristan,” he said, voice strained but audible. “Just let me go.”This time, I let out a bitter laugh. “Really? I should let you go? I said, my voi

Natasha’s POVThe dress I’d picked hugged every curve of my body like a second skin. I sat perfectly still in front of the mirror as the makeup artist gently dabbed beneath my eyes. “Hold still, miss. Just a little more,” the woman murmured. A tear slipped free. I quickly blinked it away, but another followed. I couldn’t tell what exactly was making me emotional. Whether it was the brushes touching my eyes or the fact that I was getting married today. Today was my wedding. The day my family would finally be safe. The day I would finally feel safe. The day my name would change from Natasha Whitmore to Natasha Castillo. The day I would marry the devil himself. He was many things, but a devil? I wasn’t sure. Many believed he killed his parents, which was why he was referred to as the devil. Others said it was because of the people he was connected to. But he didn’t look like someone who’d do those things. Either way, none of it would matter once I became his wife. “You look b

Natasha’s POVThe Castillo estate came into view, grand like always, even in the soft evening light. The car rolled to a smooth stop. Tristan got out first and walked around to open my door. He offered his hand, which I accepted without hesitation. Before we could reach the entrance, another car pulled up behind us. Adelina and Patricia arrived with Daniel, followed by a separate vehicle carrying my bags. Adelina stepped out looking surprisingly energetic for someone who had just attended a stressful wedding. Patricia stayed close to her, holding her arm carefully. “You know I can still walk perfectly well, right?” Adelina said. “I know, Abuela, but we can’t be too careful.” Patricia replied calmly. I stood there, still in my wedding gown, feeling completely out of place and exhausted. “Welcome home, love,” Adelina said warmly as she approached us. “Thank you, Adelina.”Tristan placed a hand lightly on her back. “Let’s get you inside.”The moment we stepped into the grand foye

Natasha’s POVI woke up after falling asleep again. I checked the time on my phone—it was already eleven a.m. It had been almost three hours since Tristan left. I hadn’t moved from the bed until now. I swung my feet off the mattress and walked slowly toward the balcony. The view from here was stunning. I rested my hands on the railings, closed my eyes and let the soft breeze brush across my face. My hair swayed freely behind me. Below, several luxury cars were neatly lined up in the driveway. The garden was alive with gardeners tending to flowers, while a few workers moved efficiently through the compound. The entire estate felt alive—like its own little world. After a few seconds, I went back inside and headed downstairs.A few maids were cleaning the grand living room. Some of them were carefully dusting the large portrait on the far wall—the same woman who bore a striking resemblance to Tristan. They bowed in unison when they saw me. I walked over to them slowly. “Who’s she?”

Tristan’s POVI sat in my office on the top floor, a cigarette hanging loosely from my lips as I flipped through the latest documents spread across my desk. The smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling. Another major infrastructure deal. Fresh capital flowing through legitimate channels. Everything built carefully—clean on the surface. Still, old connections never truly disappeared. Some deals still required quiet phone calls. It’s been three weeks since the wedding, and life had settled into a strange kind of routine—polite, quiet mornings.Natasha and I existed in the same space, but we had barely spoken beyond the bare minimum. I hadn’t provoked her in a while. I worked late most nights—partly as an excuse to give her space to settle in. We slept in the same bed, but might as well have been miles apart. It was exactly what I had expected—a distant marriage of convenience. And yet…I took a slow drag from the cigarette, exhaling through my nose. A knock sounded at the door. I di