🔞🖤 TH£ D£VIL
PLAY THÏNG🔞🖤
(His addiction.....)
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CHAPTER 29
#unedited…
Lucifer stood in the hot shower, his head tilted downward, his long, wet hair plastered to his face.
With a sudden growl, his fist shot out, shattering the mirror in front of him. Glass exploded, shards embedding into his knuckles
"Fuck."
His jaw clenched as pain licked through his nerves, but he welcomed it. The pain was familiar. Pain reminded him he was still here, still breathing, still chained to this world he despised.
Exhaling harshly, he turned, stepping out of the shower, his bare feet leaving a trail of red-tinted water on the cold tiles. He didn't bother with a towel at first, the cold air biting at his fevered skin.
He walked into his room like a storm barely contained, running a hand through his drenched hair before finally yanking a towel from the rack and wrapping it loosely around his waist, sitting low on his hips.
Then a knock.
Lucifer rolled his neck, his fingers pressing into his temples as he exhaled slowly. His patience was already on a thin fucking thread.
"Speak," he commanded.
A hesitant breath from the other side. Then, "Miss Veronica is here. She's requesting you."
Lucifer's gaze darkened, his lip curling slightly in irritation. He knew what she wanted. He always knew. These women were so drawn to him, so desperate to taste something.
"Let her wait," he said flatly, stepping towards the door.
The moment he pulled it open, the maid standing there inhaled sharply, her breath stalling in her throat. Her wide eyes dragged over him his damp, unruly hair, the sharp angles of his face, the bruised knuckles still bleeding from the shattered mirror, and then her gaze dipped lower.
The thick towel barely held onto his waist, droplets of water rolling down the deep grooves of his abs.
She swallowed, her cheeks burning a deep crimson. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her uniform, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she struggled to maintain composure.
"Something on your mind?" he drawled, voice laced with lethal silk.
The maid sucked in a shaky breath. "I. I" She tore her gaze away, forcing herself to focus. "Miss Veronica. She won't stop asking for you, sir."
Lucifer let out a low, humorless chuckle, dragging a hand through his wet hair. "And?"
"She said it's urgent."
"Is it?" His voice dropped,
She bit her lip, unable to stop her eyes from trailing over his chest again. God. He was fucking perfect. Too perfect. Too deadly. Her knees felt weak just being this close to him.
Lucifer leaned in, his breath ghosting over her ear. "Go back and tell Veronica I'll see her when I fucking feel like it."
The maid exhaled shakily. "Y Yes, sir."
"Where is she?" he asked, voice low and sharp as she turned back.
"In the lounge, sir."
She turned too quickly, nearly tripping over her own feet as she rushed down the hall, her entire body burning. Lucifer watched her go, his smirk fading into something darker. He knew the effect he had on them. On all of them.
But there was only one woman he wanted. And she fucking hated him right now.
His jaw clenched. He turned back into his room, shutting the door behind him, and dressed quickly. Black slacks. A crisp button down, left open at the collar. A watch that cost more than most people made in a year. By the time he stepped into the lounge, Veronica was already there, sitting with a glass of whiskey, her dark red dress hugging every curve of her body.
"Lucifer," she purred, standing as he approached. "Finally." Long, sleek legs carried her forward, dressed in a sexy tight black dress that clung to her curves.
Her sharp gaze flickered over him, taking in the deep scars, the bruised knuckles, the thick towel barely hanging onto his waist. Her lips curled slightly.
"You never change, do you?" she murmured,
Lucifer didn't move. Didn't blink. "State your business."
She exhaled, stepping closer. "Godfather is furious with you."
His expression didn't shift, but the air in the room grew colder. "Is he?"
Veronica tilted her head, studying him. "You know he is. You fucking abandoned everything for a human girl. Do you have any idea what kind of war you're igniting?"
Lucifer leaned back against the edge of his desk, stretching his legs out. "I don't give a fuck what he thinks."
Veronica scoffed. "You should. He trained you. Made you who you are. And now, you're pissing on everything he built because of some"
His head snapped up, eyes turning to steel. "Watch your fucking mouth."
She paused, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "You're protective over her. That's interesting."
He didn't respond.
"Do you think this ends well? He's not going to let this go, Lucifer. He'll fucking destroy you for this." You're throwing away an empire for a girl who doesn't even fucking understand you."
His jaw ticked. "You're wasting my time."
She stepped even closer, lifting a hand as if to touch him, but he caught her wrist midair, his grip firm. "Don't."
She exhaled slowly, her lips parting slightly. "You could have had me, you know. We would've ruled together. But you'd rather chase something fragile. ."
Lucifer's grip tightened for a brief moment before he released her. "Get out."
She bit her lip, frustration bubbling inside her. She couldn't understand why he was so damn stubborn because of that girl. It pissed her off, and the anger was coursing through her veins.
"Take this," she muttered, shoving the envelope into his hand "I'm done trying to make sense," she added.
She didn't give him a chance to respond before she turned, storming off.
"Fuck," she hissed under her breath as she walked away, fists clenched, her steps quick and sharp.
She bit her lip, watching him with growing frustration. "The girl isn't even that beautiful," she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to him. "I don't get what the hell Alex sees in her." This was the first time Alex had ever looked at a girl like that like he cared.
It wasn't just the girl that was pissing her off; it was the way Lucifer had been acting too.
Theodore's sharp, ice-blue eyes stared at the trembling maid before him. She was on her knees, her hands clutching the hem of his tailored black slacks, tears streaking her pale face as she begged for mercy.
"Please, Master, I didn't mean to! It was a mistake " she said and bent down begging.
Theodore leaned back in his chair, twirling the glass of whiskey in his hand. The amber liquid swirled slowly, mirroring the calm, methodical way his mind worked. He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. Then, in a voice colder than death, he murmured, "Mistakes are costly."
The gunshot was heard. The maid slumped to the ground, lifeless.
Theodore exhaled slowly, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. "Clean this up," he ordered.
His men rushed forward, dragging the body away. The door opened behind him, followed by the footsteps of Tristan Romano, his most trusted consigliere and longtime friend. Tristan adjusted the cuffs of his dark grey suit before taking a seat across from Theodore, lighting a cigarette as he did.
"You handle business as efficiently as ever," Tristan noted, exhaling a slow stream of smoke,
Theodore turned, picking up his glass again. "Sloppiness breeds disloyalty. I don't tolerate either."
Tristan nodded, pouring himself a drink from the crystal decanter on the table. "We have a situation with the DeLuca family. They're pushing into our shipping routes, trying to undercut our imports."
Theodore took a slow sip, savoring the burn. "And?"
Tristan leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. "Their new front in Naples is a cover for their expansion."
Theodore chuckled darkly, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Patience is not one of my virtues. What do you propose?"
Tristan smirked. "A meeting. Public, respectable. We sit down and let them talk. Then, when they think they have the upper hand… we remind them why they don't."
Theodore studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Set it up. Neutral ground. The club. I want them comfortable before we strip them down to nothing."
Tristan raised his glass. "Consider it done."
Later that night, the two men entered Il Vizio, a high-end bar frequented by the city's elite
The bartender, an older man poured them each a drink without needing to ask. "Signori."
Theodore nodded, taking the glass. "Carlo."
Tristan lit another cigarette, taking a slow drag before speaking. "You ever wonder if we should just take the whole operation overseas? Expand beyond Europe?"
Theodore smirked, exhaling a trail of smoke. "And leave behind what we built? Not yet. There's still too much money to make here."
Tristan chuckled, setting his glass down. "Then we better make sure the DeLucas learn theirs."
Tristan tapped his fingers against the glass, his expression darkening. "There's something else. I just found out that I'm fucking brothers with that betrayal. I was separated from him."
Theodore's brows lifted slightly. "Who?"
"Damien," Tristan took a deep breath before he spoke, "Dracula is alive."
Theodore stilled, cigarette paused halfway to his lips. "Who?"
Tristan exhaled sharply. "Lucifer. He is alive. I wasn't fucking expecting him to be alive not after he was burnt alive."
Theodore's expression turned unreadable, his fingers tightening around the glass. "That's impossible. We all saw the fire. There's no way he survived."
He scoffed, downing the rest of his drink. "Then explain why he's back. Explain why his name is being said in the underground again. Someone saw him, and they weren't fucking mistaken."
He cursed under his breath, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. "If he's back, this changes everything. He wasn't someone we could beat then, and I doubt that's changed now. The man was a fucking ghost before we even tried to kill him. If we don't know where he is, we don't know what he wants. And that makes him a goddamn problem."
"We find him before he finds us. Because if Lucifer is alive, then none of us in the darn city is safe."
He leaned forward, his jaw tightening as he set his glass down
"Find out who saw him. Get me proof."
Tristan nodded, already pulling out his phone. "I'll have men on it tonight."
.
.
"Fuck," he muttered, as he sidestepped the spray of blood.
He grabbed the man by the throat, slamming him against the cage wall. A sharp elbow to the ribs. A knee to the gut.
Before he could recover, His fist slammed into the brute's ribs.
He roared wildly. A fist collided with the smaller man's jaw, snapping his head back.
The man fell to his knees, gasping, hands trembling as he tried to push himself up.
"Finish it," Godfather ordered flatly.
A brutal kick to the side of the man's head. His body went limp before it even hit the ground.
The remaining fighter wiped the blood from his mouth.
Godfather sighed, stepping forward. He crouched beside the unconscious man, grabbing him by the hair and lifting his head slightly. The man groaned weakly, barely conscious.
"Darn shame," Vittorio murmured, then let go, letting his head drop. He straightened, adjusting the cuffs of his perfectly tailored suit as if nothing had happened.
Veronica stood a few feet away, watching, her expression carefully blank. But she had seen this a hundred times.
Godfather turned to her, his dark eyes. "You had something to tell me."
She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing down the disgust curling in her stomach.
"Yes," she said smoothly, stepping forward. He gave her a single nod, signaling her to speak.
"It's about Lucifer."
That got his attention. The boredom in his expression vanished in an instant, replaced by something far colder.
"Go on," he said.
"He won't listen because of her," Veronica muttered, gripping the glass of whiskey in her hand.
There was no need to say Lily's name. They both knew exactly who she meant.
He didn't speak right away. Instead, he turned back to the cage, watching as the winning fighter dragged his opponent's body off to the side like discarded trash.
Then, finally, he exhaled slowly.
"Then the girl dies."