Chapter 2

Chapter Two

(The House of Wolves)

The gates were taller than any building I had ever lived in.

Black iron bars stretched toward the sky, crowned with sharp points like teeth. As the car rolled closer, they opened slowly, silently, as if the mansion itself was breathing me in.

I pressed my forehead against the cold window.

This wasn’t a house.

This was a fortress.

The driveway curved through perfectly trimmed hedges and dead-still fountains. No guards in sight.

Somehow, that made it worse.

The car stopped in front of a massive stone mansion glowing faintly under soft golden lights.

My pulse hammered.

Once I stepped out, there would be no pretending this was just a strange interview anymore.

The door opened.

“Follow me,” the driver said.

Lucifer had already exited the car.

He didn’t look back.

I followed.

The front doors opened automatically.

Warmth washed over me.

Polished marble floors. Crystal chandeliers. Walls decorated with dark paintings that looked like they were watching me.

Everything smelled expensive.

Everything felt dangerous.

Lucifer walked ahead, hands in his pockets, moving like he owned not only this place—but the world.

Which he probably did.

A tall woman appeared from the shadows.

She wore a black suit and had her hair pulled into a tight bun.

“This is Mara,” Lucifer said. “She manages the household.”

Mara studied me with unreadable eyes.

“She looks fragile,” Mara said.

Lucifer didn’t slow.

“Fragile things break,” he replied. “She hasn’t yet.”

My chest tightened.

Mara nodded once.

“Your room is on the third floor,” she said to me. “You’ll eat with the staff. You’ll not wander. You’ll not enter locked rooms. And you’ll never enter Mr. Armstrong’s wing.”

I swallowed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lucifer stopped walking.

Slowly, he turned.

“Except when I call her.”

Mara’s eyes flicked to him.

“Understood.”

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver through me.

We continued walking.

I tried to memorize every turn, but the hallways twisted endlessly.

Finally, Mara opened a door.

Inside was a bedroom bigger than my entire apartment.

Large bed. Soft grey walls. A desk. A private bathroom.

It felt unreal.

“You’ll find clothes in the wardrobe,” Mara said. “Someone guessed your size.”

I stiffened.

Someone.

Lucifer stood in the doorway, watching me.

“Get some sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow, you start.”

“With what?” I asked.

“You’ll learn.”

Then he left.

The door closed.

I stood there, alone.

The silence screamed.

I slowly walked to the bed and sat.

My hands were shaking.

I wasn’t sure if I had just saved my family…

Or sold my soul.

I barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face.

Those grey eyes.

The way he said you’re mine now.

I woke before dawn.

A knock came at exactly six.

Mara.

“Dress in black,” she said.

She handed me a simple black outfit.

No explanation.

We walked downstairs to a smaller dining area.

Several men sat at the table.

All dressed in dark suits.

All heavily armed.

Every conversation stopped when I entered.

Their eyes scanned me.

Measured me.

Judged me.

Lucifer sat at the head of the table.

Coffee in hand.

Relaxed.

Dangerous.

“Sit,” he said.

I obeyed.

A plate of food was placed in front of me.

I couldn’t eat.

Lucifer studied me over the rim of his cup.

“Do you scare easily, Divya?”

“Yes.”

A few men smirked.

“Good,” Lucifer said. “Fear keeps people alive.”

He set his cup down.

“Today you watch,” he continued. “You listen. You remember. You don’t speak unless I tell you.”

“Watch what?”

His eyes darkened.

“Business.”

One of the men leaned forward.

“The warehouse is ready.”

Lucifer nodded.

Then he looked at me.

“You’re coming with me.”

My heart stopped.

“I thought you said I’d be assisting you.”

He stood.

“You will.”

He leaned close enough that only I could hear.

“An assistant who doesn’t understand my world is useless.”

His breath brushed my ear.

“And I don’t keep useless things.”

A strange heat spread through my chest.

Fear.

And something worse.

Curiosity.

Lucifer straightened.

“Finish eating.”

I looked down at the untouched food.

My hands trembled as I picked up the fork.

Whatever waited at that warehouse…

I knew one thing.

This was the day the last piece of my normal life died.

And the first day I stepped into hell.

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