CHAPTER 1: THE DEVIL'S HOUSE

THE DEVIL’S HOUSE

POV: Aurelle

The gates to Voss Manor were 12 feet tall. Black iron. Spikes on top.

I knew who lived here. Everyone in Blackwood did.

Morgan Voss. 30. CEO by day, monster by night.

His picture was never in the news. Only rumors.

A tiger tattoo across his entire back. Sleeve of ink covering his left wrist to his knuckles.

Killer body. Colder eyes.

Special habit: He never raises his voice. When M is angry, he goes quiet. That’s when people disappear.

The car stopped. Two guards opened my door.

No handcuffs. He didn’t need them.

My hands trembled so badly I curled them into fists.

My stomach twisted.

The room suddenly felt too small.

I could hear my own heartbeat pounding against my ribs.

Inside smelled like leather, whiskey, and something expensive.

And her.

*Vanya* came running first.

"Aunt Elle! You came back!" She threw her arms around my legs. Her hair smelled like strawberries.

I forced a smile. "Hey, baby."

Then he walked down the stairs.

Morgan Voss.

Black suit. No tie. Shirt open at the throat just enough to see ink disappearing under the collar.

30 years old and he looked like sin carved into a man.

Cold eyes swept over me. Possessive. Assessing. Like I was an object he’d already bought.

He stopped 2 feet from me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne. Dark. Expensive. Dangerous.

"Miss Dubois," he said. Voice low. No warmth.

"Thank you for coming."

Coming. Like I had a choice.

Vanya tugged my hand. "Can Aunt Elle stay for dinner?"

M didn’t look at her. He looked at me.

"She’s not leaving," he said simply. "She lives here now."

My chest caved in.

Sythe’s face flashed in my head. Begging. Crying.

The deal. _"She’ll pay the debt."_

"What do you want from me?" I whispered.

M tilted his head. That tiger tattoo shifted under his shirt.

"Three things," he said.

"One: You keep being Vanya’s nanny. She likes you."

"Two: You live in this house. Under my rules."

"Three: In public, you are mine. My companion. My problem."

He stepped closer. I could feel the heat off him.

"And in private?" I asked, voice breaking.

His eyes dropped to my mouth, then back up. Cold. Possessive.

"As long as that debt exists, Aurelle... every road leads back to me."

He didn’t touch me.

He didn’t have to.

The fear did it for him.

For a moment, Morgan's gaze lingered on my eyes.

The same blue as Vanya's.

Something unreadable flickered across his face before it vanished.

Vanya squeezed my hand, oblivious.

And I realized something terrifying.

The man who bought me wasn't going to hurt me.

He was going to ruin me by being kind.

Because how do you hate the man who gives you a room, feeds your family, and looks at you like you’re the only real thing in his world?

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HOUSE RULES

The guest wing was bigger than Aunt May and Uncle Zach’s entire house.

Marble floors. A king bed with sheets that probably cost more than my tuition. A bathroom with a bathtub I could drown in.

And guards outside the door.

"Miss Dubois," a woman in a black uniform said. She had to be the housekeeper. "I’m Marta. Mr. Voss asked me to show you around."

"Where’s Vanya?" I asked. My voice sounded rusty.

"She’s with her tutor. You start tomorrow, 7am sharp."

Marta didn’t smile. "Dinner is at 8. You will attend."

It wasn’t a question.

I unpacked the one duffel bag I’d been allowed to bring. College textbooks, 3 changes of clothes, and the stuffed rabbit Vanya gave me last Christmas.

Everything else I owned was still at Aunt May’s.

Everything I was, was still with Sythe.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

_Don’t call him. Don’t try to leave. Your family is safe as long as you comply. - M_

I deleted it. My hands were still shaking.

At 7:55pm I went downstairs. The dining room was longer than my lecture hall. One long table. One place setting at the head. One at the middle.

M was already there. Sleeves rolled up. The tattoos on his left wrist crawled up to his forearm in the light.

Vanya sat next to him, swinging her legs.

"Aunt Elle!" She patted the seat beside her. "Sit here."

I did. Carefully. As far from M as the chair allowed.

He didn’t look at me for the first 10 minutes. He cut Vanya’s chicken, asked about her reading, poured her water.

The cold mafia lord who kills without batting a lash... was gentle with a 5-year-old.

It was worse than if he’d yelled.

"Rules," he said finally, setting down his fork. He still hadn’t looked at me.

Vanya groaned. "Uncle M, not during dinner."

"Three rules," he continued, eyes on his plate. "One: You do not leave this property without my permission or an escort."

"Two: You do not speak to Sythe Andre. You do not answer his calls."

"Three: You are to wear what Marta gives you for public events. We have a gala on Friday."

I stared at my water. "I’m still a student. I have classes."

"Online now," he said. "Your professors have been notified. Tuition is paid."

My throat closed. "You can’t just—"

"I can." He finally looked at me. Cold. Controlled.

"You are under my protection now. Don’t mistake that for freedom."

The room went silent except for Vanya’s fork scraping her plate.

Later, I was walking back to the guest wing when I heard it.

Voices. Low. From his office.

"...she looks just like—"

"Don’t," M cut him off. Quiet. Final.

I froze in the hallway.

A man’s voice. "Sir, the debt—"

"The debt is handled," M said. "The girl stays."

The door opened. A guard nearly ran into me.

Behind him, M stood at his desk. He saw me immediately.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Then his gaze dropped to my eyes again. Blue. The same as Vanya’s.

His jaw ticked. Once.

"Go to bed, Aurelle," he said softly. Too softly.

I nodded and walked away fast, heart hammering.

That night I couldn’t sleep.

I kept thinking about his rules. About the way he looked at me and Vanya together.

About how he could have cut Sythe’s hand off and chose me instead.

Velvet chains.

The next morning at 6:50am, Vanya burst into my room.

"Aunt Elle! Uncle M said you have to have breakfast with us!"

She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the kitchen.

M was there. Coffee in hand. White t-shirt. The tiger tattoo covered half his back.

He looked up when we entered.

His eyes found mine. Then Vanya’s. Then mine again.

Something flickered. Possession. Confusion. Something darker.

"Morning," he said to Vanya. Then, to me: "Eat."

Just one word.

But it felt like a claim.

I sat down.

And realized I was terrified not of what he would do to me...

...but of what he was already doing.

End Chapter 1

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