CHAPTER TWO: THE DEVIL ARRIVES
846 Words
Lisa POV
The sound of the car outside didn’t belong to this neighborhood.
It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t flashy.
It was… controlled. Heavy. Like whatever engine purred beyond the gate had never needed to announce itself.
I sat on the edge of my bed, spine straight, hands folded neatly in my lap. If I was being handed over like property, I refused to look weak doing it.
My mother knocked once before opening the door. She didn’t look at me—she never did when guilt brushed too close.
“They’re here,” she said simply.
Not he.
They.
I stood without a word and followed her down the narrow hallway that suddenly felt like a tunnel closing in. The living room smelled of cheap perfume and nervous sweat.
Two men in black suits stood near the door. Big. Silent. Expressionless. The kind of men who didn’t need to raise their voices to be obeyed.
And then… he stepped in.
Raymond Killson didn’t look like a devil.
That was the first thing that unsettled me.
He was calm. Dangerously so. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black like the men behind him, but there was something sharper about him—like the room bent slightly in his favor. His face was handsome in a cold, untouched way. No scars. No obvious cruelty.
Just eyes.
Dark. Calculating. Unhurried.
Those eyes found me instantly.
Not my parents.
Not the room.
Me.
I felt it like a hand closing around my throat.
“So,” he said, his voice low, smooth, and entirely uninterested. “This is her.”
My father laughed nervously. “Yes—Lisa. She’s… she’s strong. Hardworking.”
Raymond didn’t look away from me.
“She’ll do,” he said.
That was it.
No questions.
No confirmation.
My mother shoved me forward slightly. “Go on. Say hello.”
I lifted my chin.
“Hello,” I said, meeting his gaze head-on. My voice didn’t shake. Inside, something trembled—but I refused to let it show.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Not interest.
Not attraction.
Assessment.
“You don’t look grateful,” he remarked.
“I wasn’t told I should be.”
Silence dropped like a blade.
One of the men behind him shifted, but Raymond lifted a hand slightly. He smiled then—but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Bold,” he said. “I like that. It doesn’t last.”
I swallowed. Just once.
My father cleared his throat. “Mr. Killson, about the debt—”
“It’s settled,” Raymond cut in. “As agreed.”
My mother exhaled loudly, relief washing over her features. She smiled at him. Actually smiled.
“She’s yours,” she said quickly. “Do whatever you want with her.”
My stomach turned.
I looked at them then—really looked. At the people who raised me. Who fed me scraps of affection and called it love.
“Don’t worry,” I said quietly. “You won’t see me again.”
My mother frowned. “Lisa—”
Raymond stepped closer.
I didn’t realize he’d moved until his shadow swallowed mine.
Up close, he smelled like something expensive and dangerous. Clean. Controlled. Untouchable.
“You speak when I allow it,” he said softly. Not a threat. A fact.
My heart slammed hard against my ribs.
But I didn’t look away.
“I’m not your slave,” I said.
The room froze.
His lips curved faintly. “That’s where you’re wrong."
He turned to his men. “We’re leaving.”
One of them reached for my arm.
I flinched—but didn’t pull away.
Raymond noticed.
His fingers closed around my wrist instead.
Warm. Firm. Unyielding.
“I’ll handle her,” he said.
My skin burned where he touched me. Fear coiled low in my stomach—but anger burned hotter.
As he led me outside, I glanced back once.
My parents were already counting their freedom.
The car interior was immaculate. Leather seats. Tinted windows. Silence so thick it pressed against my ears.
I sat rigidly beside him, my hands clenched in my lap.
“Relax,” Raymond said calmly. “You’re not being executed.”
I laughed once. Sharp. Humorless. “Could’ve fooled me.”
He glanced at me sideways. “You have a mouth on you.”
“I was raised by gamblers. It comes with survival.”
Another pause.
“Good,” he said. “You’ll need it.”
The gates opened. The car moved.
I watched my old life disappear behind us without regret.
But when I thought of Lila—of her smile, her promised surprise—my chest tightened.
Raymond noticed my silence.
“You’re thinking of someone,” he said.
I looked at him. “You don’t get to care.”
“I don’t,” he replied smoothly. “But I get to know what belongs to me.”
I shivered despite myself.
The car sped forward, toward something massive and unknown.
And for the first time since hearing my fate…
Fear finally caught up to me.
- Writer
