The Lucifer's Muse

Chess piece

From the shadows, Elliot emerged, lighting a cigarette. “She’s really innocent—a pure soul with a fragile heart.”

“That’s what draws me to her,” Matteo said, taking the lighter.

“She still doesn’t know you’re the president of Aether. After all, it’s owned by the Santos Group,” Elliot noted.

Matteo shrugged. “When I mentioned my full name, she didn’t react.”

“Means she doesn’t know who you really are. What if she tells Caroline or someone else? Diana—she’s a gossiper and works in media. How will you explain? Plus, your engagement with Alessia Besseti…”

“That’s cancelled. She’s not the real Ravencourt. Besides, with my hair color and contacts, she won’t find out the truth,” Matteo said confidently.

“Seems you love having me as your assistant,” Elliot muttered angrily.

“Upset because I don’t help with work? Fine, just for now,” Matteo teased.

Elliot’s voice dropped. “Are you still using her? Your brother is a maniac. Does he care about her? He hasn’t intervened at all. I heard from her friends that the man she saved already paid her medical fees. He clearly wants nothing to do with her.”

“You’re wrong,” Matteo said quietly. “Domenico doesn’t show emotions, but when he looks at her on stage, it’s different.”

“Maybe he’s just surprised the girl who saved him is the same dancing lady. He must be shocked—no longer the malnourished girl. Also, have you heard her new name in the ballet world?”

“New name? What?” Matteo asked, curious.

“‘Enchantress Ballerina Ixora.’ That’s what everyone’s searching. No one cares about her surname. Honestly, if you hadn’t appeared on audition day to explain her story, I would have—”

“Sleep with her,” Matteo finished darkly.

“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” Elliot snapped.

“Alright, hands up,” Matteo laughed, smacking him playfully.

“I plan to pursue her. She’s determined. I see the fear in her, but also the resolve,” Elliot said.

“She’s going to be mine now,” Matteo said coldly.

“To prove to your father you’re better than Domenico? Impossible. Your backgrounds might be similar—thanks to your father’s ties—but he lives in a different world. He’s the Don of the Mafia, both home and abroad. You know better than to mess with him. My Zhao Group can barely survive his attention, even considering your father’s relationship with him,” Elliot warned.

“Zhao Group is the best mercenary producer around. He won’t touch it easily. Don’t worry,” Matteo replied.

“What if…” Elliot hesitated.

“What?” Matteo prompted.

“What if Domenico wants her? Maybe he wasn’t interested before, but what if he is now?”

“Then I we destroy her. What I can’t have, no one can,” Matteo said dangerously.

“You two are really brothers—thinking alike when you can’t have something,” Elliot smirked.

He grinned back. Domenico will destroy her too, but once she accepts me, I can protect her.”

“You’re a crazy family,” Elliot laughed.

“Brother-in-law to both of us. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you as long as Dad’s alive,” Matteo teased.

They laughed, talking business as shadows shifted around them.

Unbeknownst to them, Kael recorded every word, every glance, hidden in a bug camera disguised among the garden’s flowers, capturing sound and video from every angle.

Domenico Estate

Inside his pleasure room, a bar in the corner, Domenico indulged with two young women—pure virgins gifted to him.

The room reeked of s*x, alcohol, and tobacco. Used condoms littered the floor alongside bottles, weed packs, and cigarette butts. The sounds of flesh slapping flesh filled the heavy air, punctuated by groans and moans as each girl called his name differently.

“Oh my God, my lordship... please... Don,” they begged.

Kael appeared at the doorway, his serious expression silencing the room. Domenico stopped, pressing a button. Two well-armed guards stormed in, dragging the women away.

“Treat them well,” Domenico ordered coldly. They knew he was done with them, but the guards took them as gifts.

He entered the shower, steam enveloping him.

Kael instructed the maids to clean up before Domenico emerged in a black robe. Kael handed him a rolled weed, lighting it for him.

Everything was pristine, the smell of smoke mixing with fresh cleanliness.

Domenico exhaled deeply, eyes burning with a dangerous glare.

“Who’s watching her?” he asked Kael.

“Marco,” Kael replied.

Marco was an ex-convict Domenico rescued from a military camp. Domenico had trained at the front lines, fulfilling his grandfather’s wishes, reckless with his own life.

Domenico nodded and gestured to the curtains, drawing them to reveal the city view.

He laughed, the sound cruel. “Domenico Vincenzo Augustos Marchese,” he called himself proudly. “Oh brother, brother... Destroy her...”

He checked his phone—no reply from Ixora.

“Let’s play with brother’s love slowly. He can have her once I’m done,” Domenico sneered.

“Don, isn’t she the chess piece for the Ravencourt? Or have you given up ruling it?”

“A chess piece that can’t be used is worthless. If she's real I can create another real one to control?”

At that moment, Viola entered.

“Signore Marchese,” Viola greeted, bowing.

Domenico pointed toward her. “What about her?”

Viola had no idea what they’d been discussing.

“I understand,” Kael said with a smirk.

Viola shifted uncomfortably.

“What is it?” Domenico asked.

“Caroline approached Sunbase Group,” Viola explained.

“Isn’t that where you’re head?” Kael asked.

“Sunbase is an international modeling company. They gave modeling contracts—not for models, but for popular brands like Ixo, Zara, Fin, Yul, and others. They cover everything—gadgets, houses, clothes, estates, billboards—internationally. It’s owned by outsiders, but viola is their president.”

“Yes, she wants to collaborate with us to promote Ixora. The results aren’t announced yet, but Caroline wants her on international billboards.”

“Enough. Reject it,” Domenico ordered, pressing his weed into a glass of wine Kael poured for him.

“Don’t accept any offers for any ballet dancer. Let her be on national billboards only, if she wins,” he smirked.

Viola wondered what was happening. Domenico always wanted Ixora—was this another game? Even if futile, using her body to seduce him was usual.

She nodded silently.

“Come and play with me,” Domenico demanded.

Kael left the room.

Viola removed her clothes, nerves trembling.

“I want you to play with me slowly,” Domenico said, voice thick with desire. “Give me ecstasy.”

Viola approached Domenico slowly, her steps measured yet confident. The dim light cast soft shadows over her skin, accentuating the curves that Domenico coveted but rarely truly appreciated beyond possession.

She reached out, tracing a delicate finger along the line of his jaw, watching the flicker of surprise—and something darker—ignite in his eyes. His usual coldness still remains intact but cool slightly just enough to tell her go ahead, yet his face void of emotions, revealing only a hunger that demanded satisfaction beyond the physical.

With a whispered sigh, Viola leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. “Tell me what you want, my lordship,” she murmured, voice low and sultry. “I’m here to give you everything.”

Her hands slid down his chest, lingering just long enough to stoke the fire beneath his calm ,cold exterior. Domenico’s breath hitched as her touch teased the surface of his skin, igniting a craving that wasn’t just flesh-deep.

She moved with practiced grace, each motion designed to draw him further into the moment—into her spell.

Her kiss was soft at first, a slow burn that promised more, coaxing him to surrender to desire rather than control. Domenico responded, fingers tightening in her hair, pulling her closer even as his mind raced with darker thoughts.

Viola whispered against his lips, her voice both an invitation and a challenge. “Let me be your escape, even if just for tonight.”

In that charged silence, they existed only for each other—two predators circling, craving ecstasy not only of the body but of power, control, and fleeting vulnerability.

For Domenico, it was a pleasure he gladly immerse herself to as always. For Viola, a chance to hold the reins, if only for a moment.

his eyes. Domenico’s smirk twitched, the predator in him momentarily startled by Viola’s boldness.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice a low threat laced with intrigue. “I don’t recall giving you permission to lead.”

Viola smiled faintly, leaning closer until her lips brushed his ear. “You said you wanted ecstasy, Signore Marchese. True pleasure isn’t given — it’s taken.”

For a second, silence hummed between them, thick with tension. Then Domenico’s laughter rang out — dark, low, almost feral.

“Interesting,” he said, grabbing her wrist with swift, bruising force. “Let’s see if you can survive playing with me.”

As he pulled her onto his lap, Viola kept her mask of composure, but inside, her pulse raced. She knew what this game meant — survival in the world of men like Domenico wasn’t about pleasure, it was about power. And tonight, she intended to take back a little of hers.