Flowers for the Devil

Chapter 3

DRAVEN POV

I woke up without her by my side.

She was gone.

She told me to stay last night, but she didn’t stay with me.

I should have told the guard not to let her leave.

I wish I hadn’t allowed her to go.

Agatha was screaming. Good. She should be.

I leaned back in my leather chair, watching Vito’s men hold her down in the basement of The Velvet Room.

The same basement where my father used to “negotiate” with people who owed him money.

The same basement that still smelled like blood and piss no matter how many times we scrubbed it.

“Please, Boss! Have mercy on me!” Agatha sobbed, mascara running down her face. “I don’t know! I was just ordered!” I tilted my head.

“Ordered?” My voice was calm. Too calm. Vito flinched beside me. He knew what that meant.

“Who ordered you, Agatha?”

She hesitated. Wrong move. Vito’s fist connected with her jaw. Crack. Blood and a tooth hit the concrete floor.

“Marco,” she spat, crying. “Marco De Luca! He paid me 50k to put drugs in Maxine’s drink! He said… he said you wanted it ‘wild’!”

My vision went red. Wild.

She drugged an 18-year-old girl and called it “wild.”

I stood. Slowly. My suit didn’t even wrinkle.

“And you listened to him?” I asked, walking toward her. Each step echoed.

“You drugged a girl under MY roof. In MY bar. A girl I told you specifically not to touch?” Agatha’s eyes went wide.

“B-boss, I didn’t kn—”

“Liar.”

I crouched in front of her, gripping her chin so hard I felt bone.

“You knew. You’ve seen me watch her for three months. You saw me buy her roses. You KNEW she was mine.”

I let her go and she slumped, sobbing. Pathetic.

This woman almost ruined the one good thing I’ve had in years.

“Vito,” I said, not looking away from Agatha.

“Cut off her fingers. One for every hour Maxine suffered because of her.”

“Y-yes, Boss.”

“No!” Agatha shrieked. “Please! I have kids! Maawa ka sa mga anak ko!” Kids. Right.

The same kids she leaves alone every night to come work here and sell other women to old men. I almost laughed. Almost.

“You should have thought of your kids before you decided to poison mine.”

Mine.

The word slipped out before I could stop it. But it was true. Maxine was mine. Not in the way Marco wanted. Not in the way these animals thought.

Mine to protect.

Mine to keep safe.

Vito’s men dragged Agatha away, her screams echoing up the stairwell. I didn’t watch. I’ve seen enough torture in my life. I didn’t get pleasure from it anymore. But for Maxine? For the terrified girl upstairs sleeping off drugs in my bed, wearing my shirt? I’d burn this whole f*****g city down.

“Boss,” Vito said quietly, handing me a tablet. “Security footage from Room 235.” I took it.

My jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth would crack. There it was. Maxine, small and shivering in that ridiculous uniform. Agatha handing her a drink with a wink.

Maxine drinking it, trusting. Then stumbling. Panicking. Then me—waiting and freezing when I saw her face. I watched myself on camera. The moment I realized she was drugged. The way my entire body went still. The way I didn’t touch her except to carry her out.

I wasn’t a good man. I’d killed. I’d tortured. I’d ordered hits that left families in ruins.

But I had rules. Rules my father beat into me, and rules I made for myself.

Rule #1: Never touch an unwilling woman.

Rule #2: Never hit someone who can’t fight back.

Rule #3: Protect what’s yours.

Maxine was mine. Not because I bought her. Not because of her father’s debt.

But because for three months, she was the only person in this hellhole who looked at me and didn’t see a monster.

She saw a customer. A man. And last night, when she kissed me drugged, desperate, terrified, she still whispered “please” like I had a choice. Like I wouldn’t have died before hurting her.

I threw the tablet at the wall. It shattered. “Where’s Marco?” I asked Vito.

My voice was dead.

“Out of the country, Boss. Flew to Hong Kong an hour ago. Private jet.” Of course he did. Coward. He sends his dogs to do his dirty work and runs when the consequences come.

“Find him,” I said. “I want his head on my desk by the end of the week.” Vito nodded.

“And the girl? Maxine?” The mention of her name did something to my chest. Something dangerous. Something that felt a lot like fear. Not for me. For her. I pulled out my phone.

One notification.

From my men.

Sir, her house is empty.

Keep watching she may come back later.

“Yes, Boss.” I left the basement without looking back.

I didn’t need to. I knew what Vito would do. Agatha wouldn’t be alive by sunrise. And Marco? He had a week, tops.

I came back at the bar but she wasn’t there, she stopped working. That’s better anyway.