Water droplets glistened on Devillian’s sculpted frame as he stepped out of the shower, steam curling around him like a misty crown. He grabbed a towel, wiping his face with an irritated swipe.
His mood was already foul — the very thought of a teenage brat thinking he could cheat him, of all people, boiled his blood.
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I'm ready to give you that freedom. You and your father can leave." I froze. What? I looked at him, eyes wide with disbelief, searching for any sign he was lying. Any smirk, any cruel glint. But he was calm. Too calm. Then he spoke again-and his words struck like a bolt of lightning straight through me. "But for that..." he paused, his voice dipping to a deadly softness, "you have to be my breeder." She is the kind of girl whose world revolved around her cats and her god jesus. Niamh Moor never asked much from life-just peace in her life. Daughter of one of Ireland's most influential figures, she lived behind the guarded gates of power but felt like a stranger in her own home. With a stepmother who wore venom like perfume and a stepsister who never missed a chance to tear her down, Niamh learned to find solace in silence. She didn't mind the isolation-not really. But everything changed with a single glance. One dance of seduction. One moment of tamtation. That was all it took to unravel the threads of her carefully stitched life. She believed in fairytales. In princes and kindness. In magic that healed. But instead, she found herself tangled in the dark salvation of a man who had no light left in him. The fairytale she longed for didn't come with a white horse. It came cloaked in blood, wrapped in chains, and whispered promises laced with pain. And the moment she stepped into his world, there was no going back.
She woke up in a world that felt unfamiliar, her mind a blank slate, her past erased by a cruel twist of fate. No name. No memories. Just haunting fragments of pain and fear she couldn't place. The girl she once was-lost somewhere in the shadows. Then came him. The man with storm in his eyes and steady hands that pulled her from the darkness. Alejandro Martinez. A stranger who felt too familiar, too steady, too... dangerous. There was a spark-silent at first, then consuming. In his presence, she found safety. In his touch, a fire. But passion built on forgotten truths is a fragile thing. Because the past always returns. And the secrets they both keep... might be the end of everything they've begun to feel.
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