Puck with the devil のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

Irene Pov When Lucian’s hand settled against the small of my back, guiding me out of the Grand Imperial’s private suite, the heat of his palm burned straight through the dark midnight-blue silk of my dress.We didn't take the main entrance where hotel guests lingered in the grand lobby. Instead, Julian held open a hidden side door that led into a subterranean private garage where a low-slung, matte-black Maybach sat waiting. The driver didn't say a word as Lucian held my door, his massive frame shielding me from the cool evening air before he slid in beside me.The car moved through the evening traffic like a silent wraith. Outside the tinted glass, the city was a blur of neon signs, glowing storefronts, and tired commuters rushing toward subway entrances.I sat stiffly against the soft leather seats, my fingers clutching the small velvet clutch in my lap. Every few seconds, I could feel Lucian’s unyielding gaze resting on me in the dim interior of the vehicle. He hadn't said a word

Time didn't just slow down; it shattered completely.The frantic, clattering roar of camera shutters, the murmur of the stunned restaurant patrons, and the distant, low chords of the piano music instantly faded into a dull, meaningless hum. The entire universe shrank until there was nothing left except the crushing, magnetic weight of the man towering over me.Lucian’s fingers were firm against the side of my face, his palm radiating an intense, terrifying heat against my cold skin. His thumb rested lightly on my cheekbone, holding my head still, tilting my face upward into his line of sight.I didn't have time to gasp. I didn't have time to pull back, to protest, or to brace myself.His mouth came down on mine.It wasn't a soft, hesitant brush of lips, nor was it an overly explicit or frantic display. It was a kiss born of absolute authority—deep, deliberate, warm, and devastatingly possessive. His lips were firm yet surprisingly smooth, pressing against mine with an unyielding inten

Lucian Pov The question lingered in the quiet room, delicate and volatile as spun glass.Lucian froze. The air inside the moonlit master bedroom seemed to instantly solidify, growing heavy and thick enough to choke on. His broad hands, still resting on the dark mattress on either side of her shoulders, locked completely rigid. For a man who had built an empire on predicting every move, anticipating every threat, and holding absolute control over every human interaction in his sphere, her quiet, slurred words struck him like a physical blow.He stared down into her eyes. Golden-brown, heavy-lidded with exhaustion, and warm with the lingering fog of dark French wine, Irene looked up at him with an absolute, terrifying vulnerability. There was no defiance left in her posture, no artificial high-society armor, no panicked defense mechanisms. Just a twenty-year-old girl stripped of all her shields, asking the one question that threatened to dismantle everything he had carefully constructe

Irene Pov I sat down slowly on one of the high-backed leather stools surrounding the black marble island.The dark silk of my crumpled evening dress rustled softly against the polished leather, feeling entirely out of place in the bright, golden morning light flooding the kitchen. Across the counter, Lucian slid a white porcelain plate toward me, followed by the steaming ceramic mug of black coffee.On the plate sat two golden-brown slices of thick French toast, dusted with a light veil of powdered sugar and topped with fresh raspberries. The edges were perfectly caramelized, glistening with melted butter.I stared down at the plate, then looked up at Lucian, genuine disbelief written across my face."You... actually made this?" I asked, picking up a silver fork. "From scratch?"Lucian leaned his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The crisp white fabric of his unbuttoned shirt stretched taut over his shoulders, his rolled-up sleeves exposing the corded m

The air inside the grand boardroom on the eightieth floor was thick with ambition, sweat, and cheap corporate bravado.Penelope Vance stood at the head of the massive, eighty-foot polished obsidian table. Her sharp, grey eyes swept over the nervous faces of the board members sitting in ergonomic leather chairs. She wore an impeccably tailored navy suit, her silver hair pinned back into a sleek, unforgiving chignon, a pair of teardrop diamond earrings glinting under the recessed halogen lights."We are witnessing the unraveling of a legacy," Penelope declared, her voice projecting through the acoustic-paneled room with practiced, aristocratic poise. "Lucian Dimitri has treated this conglomerate as his personal playground for far too long. But last night... last night crossed the threshold from arrogance into unmitigated corporate risk."She tapped a sleek remote, causing the massive high-definition screens along the front wall to illuminate in unison.There, enlarged to five times life