CURSED (A kiss to hell)

CHAPTER THREE

💞🔥 C•U•R•S•E•D🔥💞

(..A Kiss…To...Hell..)

___________________

THE INFORMANT

EARTH – L.A., SOUTH CENTRAL

William’s apartment was small, cheap, and forgettable. Just the way the Bureau liked it. No luxury, no excess—only shadows and silence. He shut the door, locked it, then double-locked it.

His hands were still shaking.

Est Morningstar.

That name wasn’t in any file.

William had spent months mapping the mafia hierarchy at the Glassback Club. He’d tagged the muscle, bribed the bartenders, even bugged the boss’s office. But that man—no, that creature—hadn’t existed in any report.

“Where the hell did you come from?” he muttered.

He sat at his tiny table, pulled open a hidden drawer, and slid out a slim black case. Inside, a secure transmitter buzzed softly. His contact only checked in every three days.

He didn’t have three days.

William pressed the emergency button.

The screen lit up. Seconds later, a voice crackled through.

“You’re not scheduled to report in. What happened?”

He took a breath. “We’ve got a new player. Came out of nowhere. Charisma off the charts, eyes like death—everyone in the club bowed when he walked in.”

“Name?”

“Est Morningstar.”

Silence.

Too long.

Then: “Say that again.”

“Est Morningstar.”

The voice returned, lower this time. “That’s not possible.”

“What do you mean?”

The line crackled. “That’s not a name. It’s a warning. You need to leave. Burn your cover and get out.”

“I can’t. He saw me. Talked to me. Knows me.”

Silence again.

“…Then God help you, Rivera. Because if it’s really him—he’s not just mafia.”

“He’s the son of Hell.”

---

HELL – THE RAVEN PALACE, THRONE OF SHADOWS

Back in the Underworld, demons whispered of Est’s curse. Of the day he vanished in smoke and flame, cast down by Heaven’s last commandment.

They said he would return only by binding himself to a mortal.

But they didn’t know how.

They didn’t know who.

---

EARTH – L.A., NIGHT

William stood at the sink, washing blood from his knuckles. Some drunk at the club had grabbed him. He overreacted. Hit too hard. The lines between undercover and unhinged were beginning to blur.

He caught his reflection in the mirror.

Eyes tired. Jaw clenched. A bruise forming under his collarbone.

And yet—beneath it all—was something else.

A spark.

A warmth.

A pull.

He hated it.

He hated him.

And yet...

When he closed his eyes, he could still feel Est’s breath at his ear. The scent of danger. The sound of that voice.

You’re already mine.

---

TO BE CONTINUED…