Owned by the Devil

Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Dominic.

The doctors said she wouldn’t wake up. But if she did, she ‘might’ suffer partial memory loss. I dreaded the reality of the truth.

Three days of motionless silence, of doctors speaking in codes and clipped terms, of tubes and beeping monitors that mocked me. For three days, I watched the rise and fall of her chest like it was the only tether I had left to keep from unraveling.

And then she opened her eyes.

Only to look at me like I was some ghost.

I stood in the hallway for a while after closing the door, staring at it like it might open again on its own. The silence pressed in around me, thick and heavy.

She was alive, breathing, awake, but it didn’t feel like it was enough. Not when she looked at me like a stranger. Not when she said she didn’t remember. Not a single f*****g thing.

Not the codes.

Not the heist.

Not her father.

Not even me. Not when I chased her without her knowing and knocked her down with my car—for all the good that did.

Now all I could feel was the cold, bitter weight of disappointment.

Without her memory, she was as good as useless to me. Because, what's the point?

Finally I resigned and walked back to my formal sitting room. With a heavy breath, I poured myself a glass of scotch from the decanter on the sideboard, the liquor burning my throat on the way down. My fingers clenched around the crystal glass. It should’ve been different. She was supposed to be my final leverage, the wildcard in this sick empire her father tried to burn down.

Edward Fairchild. That arrogant bastard. Thought he could rob me of thirty million and then offer me his daughter like a goddamn apology gift wrapped in lace and tears.

I should’ve killed him the day I found out what he’d done. But I didn’t. Because I saw her.

Arabella Fairchild.

Beautiful. Brilliant.

Cursed with a mind like a machine—Eidetic Memory Syndrome, they called it. She could glance at a page of code once and replicate it perfectly, even days later. She was her father's greatest asset indeed, and he kept that a secret from all his enemies.

I was the exception. And that was only because I was more interested in the ‘how?’ than vengeance.

How did he do it? It was an impossible heist. Yet he achieved great success in penetrating my impenetrable high technology security and stole from me. Something nobody has ever been bold enough to try.

So when I asked how? With two bullets buried in his stomach, a blade pinning his hand to his car bumper and a gun pointed to his head. Of course he had to tell me the truth.

Then he showed me to her. His daughter. Biological. Standing with what was left of his family with a blank expression, watching as I brutalized him.

Edward used her gift like a weapon, carved her into a tool for theft, for manipulation, and for betrayal.

And I wanted that weapon in my hands.

So I took her.

But not like she expected.

I wasn’t some slavering brute with a fetish for revenge. I was smarter. More patient. And far more dangerous. I gave her enough space to believe she was safe—until she tried to run. On the damn day I was supposed to claim her as mine? Of course I got mad.

And now?

Now I had a bride with a scrambled brain and no recollection of who I was. No knowledge of the codes she’d memorized. No connection to the past that tied her fate to mine.

She was… blank.

The girl I’d meticulously plotted to control—the girl whose mind was my key to destroying her father’s and all my rivals network—was just… gone.

I slammed the glass down hard enough to c***k it.

This wasn’t the plan.

“You were supposed to remember me,” I muttered, staring into the fire. “You were supposed to hate me. Or love me. Or fear me. Anything but this…”

She had looked at me like I was no one.

And for the first time in years, I didn’t know what move to make next. But for now, I'll feed her with enough lies to let me control her.

A soft knock broke through my brooding. Matteo stepped in without waiting, his face lined with worry beneath his sharp suit. My right hand, the only man left I trusted.

“She really doesn't remember anything?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

I nodded once.

“Then what now?” he asked. “You gonna tell her the truth?”

I laughed, low and bitter. “No. The truth would break her, and worse—it would break me. She’s no good to me shattered.”

“She’s already shattered, boss. You saw it. No codes, no memories. She’s not the same girl anymore.”

I stood and walked toward the window. The distant city lights glittered below like a sea of dying stars. “Then I’ll make her mine. All over again. Memory or not.”

“You gonna keep lying to her?”

“Of course.” I turned to him, expression ice-cold. “She thinks we were engaged. That she fell down the stairs. That her family’s dead. Good. Let her believe it. The truth is irrelevant now. All that matters is control.”

Matteo hesitated. “And what if she never remembers the codes?”

“Then I make her fall in love with me. I rebuild her trust from the inside out. And when she finally looks at me like she belongs to me... then I’ll ask her again.”

“And if she still doesn’t know?”

I exhaled, setting my jaw. “Then I’ll cut my losses.”