Torture scene ahead 18+

The walls of the chamber were stained—some with blood, some with the desperate scratches of men who begged for mercy and never got it. A single bulb flickered above, casting shadows that seemed to move on their own.

In the center of the room, a man was tied to a rusted electric chair. His wrists were rubbed raw, and dried blood clung to the corners of his mouth. Every few seconds, a high-pitched whirring sound buzzed through the room, followed by a sickening jolt that made his body spasm violently.

Another scream tore from his throat, hoarse and broken.

The metal door creaked open.

Devillian walked in—slow, steady steps echoing across the floor. He wore all black. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the ink on his forearms. His expression was blank. No pity. No anger. Just... hollow.

The air grew heavier.

This wasn’t the CEO the world knew. The one who showed up in thousand-dollar suits, barking orders with a deadpan glare. That Devillian was a mask. This—this—was the real him.

The Viper.

The monster without a soul.

He stopped in front of the man, crouching to his level, his face inches away. The scent of burnt flesh lingered in the air, but Devillian didn’t flinch. His eyes were like frozen fire—calm, yet deadly.

His voice came out low and deep, soaked in venom.

“Who was he?”

The man’s head lolled to the side. Blood dripped from his temple. “I… I told you… I don’t know. Please…”

Devillian grabbed his chin, forcing his face up.

“You gave my shipment to the cops,” he said, slow and cold. “And you don’t even know his name?”

“He… he just paid me to send a tip—” the man’s sentence was cut off by another electric shock. His body arched, a wild, guttural scream tearing out of him.

Devillian didn’t even blink.

“You know…” he muttered, standing up and walking to the steel tray beside the chair. He picked up a pair of pliers. “Loyalty is something I value. But betrayal?”

He turned back, holding up the pliers.

“That has a price.”

The man’s eyes widened in terror.

“No… no, please—”

Crunch.

The scream that followed was animalistic. Devillian pulled out one of his fingernails, blood pouring from the ruined nail bed. The man thrashed against the chair, begging, crying, but Devillian simply crouched again and stared at him—face blank, eyes sharp.

“You can’t even give me a name?” he asked.

“I swear, I swear… I never saw his face—”

Crunch.

Another fingernail ripped free. Devillian’s hand was steady. His breathing calm. This wasn’t rage. It was routine.

“You see,” he whispered, almost like a secret, “when I kill… I don’t do it for revenge. Or justice. I do it because I can. Because people like you think they’re untouchable. But in my world…” he leaned in, his breath cold on the man’s cheek, “everyone breaks.”

He reached for the blowtorch next.

“You said he paid you?” he asked, lighting the flame.

The man’s sobs grew louder, panic turning to hysteria.

“I-I’ll give it back! I’ll give it back—please, no—”

The flame touched skin.

The man’s scream could’ve shaken the gods themselves.

Devillian stayed silent. He didn’t even look satisfied. This wasn’t pleasure. It was purpose.

When the man finally passed out, body slumped and covered in blood and burns, Devillian stood and wiped his hands clean.

“Clean up this mess,” he told the guards outside, his voice emotionless.

The cops were dogs under his shoes. Bought, trained, silenced. But if that news had reached the media—if even a whisper of that shipment tip-off had made it out—it would’ve been a storm. Not because of law. Not because of reputation. But because of her. Siana. His Siana. His light. His delicate, laughing little sunshine who thought he was just a cold, overworked CEO with sharp eyes and a rough voice. If she knew the truth—that the same monster she’d begged for help, the Viper who terrified her in hushed stories, the devil she made a deal with to save her brother—was him… She would never forgive him. She would look at him like he was a stranger. Like he was a nightmare. She would hate him. Hate him for lying. For using her brother as leverage. For dragging her into a world where every smile had a blade behind it. And yet... he couldn’t stop. He had to have her. Even if it meant twisting the truth, chaining her fate to his. He had her now. In his home. In his bed. In his world. And he would burn every city, silence every witness, rip out every tongue that dared speak his name in front of her—if it meant keeping that illusion alive. “She sees the man,” he murmured to himself, voice like ice cracking. “Not the monster.” He clenched his jaw, staring at the bloodied tools on the table. “And she never will.” He had built this empire with violence, with fear, with bone-deep cruelty. But for her, he’d built walls around that part of himself. Hidden it behind expensive suits, quiet smirks, and soft lies. She was the only thing pure he’d ever touched. And he would not let the dirt of his truth stain her. Not now. Not ever. “If keeping her,” he whispered, “means lying for the rest of my goddamn life… then I’ll become the sweetest lie she ever loved.”

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The mall was buzzing with weekend chaos—laughing kids, couples hand-in-hand, and the constant hum of background music. Siana adjusted the strap of her shopping bag and smiled faintly as she watched Ashleen flit from one rack to another like a magpie hyped on caffeine.

“I knew it!” Ashleen squealed, dragging her toward a display of designer heels. “I knew something was going on! You’ve been glowing, Sia. GLOWING. Like someone who’s been kissed within an inch of her life and had her soul pulled out in the best way possible.”

Siana choked on a laugh. “Ash—”

“Don’t you dare ‘Ash’ me right now,” she interrupted, holding up a glittery stiletto like it was a mic. “You’re dating Devillian freaking Giordano! The Devillian. The tyrant. The Greek god in a devil’s body. I mean, have you seen him walk? It’s like sin in a suit!”

Siana bit her lip, cheeks turning warm. “He’s… not like that.”

Ashleen narrowed her eyes. “Oh no, no. Don’t you try and humanize that man to me. The man oozes power like it’s cologne. He could murder someone in front of me and I’d say ‘thank you’—and I don’t even like scary men. But you?” She poked Siana’s arm with each word. “You, miss sunshine and moral compass, are dating the boss of bosses. My sharp brain always suspected it. And now that it’s real? Girl, I’m living.”

Siana laughed, but something in her chest twisted—just for a moment. Ashleen didn’t know. No one did. Not the real Devillian. Not the one who walked into a room like he owned time itself. The one who watched her sleep like he was scared she’d disappear. The one who kissed her like she was the only thing keeping him human.

Ashleen was still going, oblivious. “And the way he looks at you? God. If a man looked at me like that, I’d pass out. You know that one time we saw him at that charity gala and I whispered ‘he looks like he kills people’? Turns out—”

Siana elbowed her lightly. “Stop.”

Ashleen wiggled her brows. “You’re blushing.”

Siana rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m the best friend who’s going to plan your wedding, that’s what I am.” Ashleen hooked her arm through hers. “And if he breaks your heart, I will personally slash his million-dollar tires.”

Siana let out a laugh, but that twist in her chest came back—just slightly deeper this time. Devillian wouldn’t break her heart.

No.

He’d destroy the world before he let it come to that.

Ashleen’s phone rang sharply, cutting through her latest round of teasing. She glanced at the screen and groaned.

“It’s my boss,” she muttered, rolling her eyes before answering. A moment later, her expression turned from annoyed to resigned. “Yeah… yeah, I understand. I’ll be there.”

She hung up with a frustrated sigh, blowing a strand of hair from her face. “Urgency at work. Of course. Can’t I have one damn day to relax with my best friend? Just one?”

Siana smiled gently. “You should go. You don’t want to risk your job because of me.”

Ashleen looked like she wanted to argue, but finally nodded with a grumble. “Fine. But I’m stealing you next weekend, no excuses.”

With a tight hug, she hurried off, leaving Siana standing alone in the middle of the buzzing mall. She sighed softly, glancing at her watch.

Maybe I’ll just grab a coffee.

She turned toward the elevator, her heels clicking quietly against the

tiles—when a voice, sharp and cold, sliced through the air behind her.

“Are you enjoying after grabbing my man’s attention?”