I Am the Devil of This Hell

Chapter 028

Victoria Vance?

The Boss's Wife?

The realization hit Marcus Grady like a freight train loaded with cement. His eyes bulged, nearly popping out of his skull. Beside him, Ghostand Dante Romero stood frozen, their mouths hanging open in perfect "O" shapes of disbelief.

A moment later, a violent shiver raked down Marcus's spine. It wasn't the cold wind of the Larkspur cemetery; it was the icy grip of absolute terror.

Oh, God, Marcus thought, his internal monologue screaming. I just flirted with the Boss’s woman. I just tried to pick up the Queen.

Most of the men who had followed Kane Adler out of the Confinement Death Ward knew the broad strokes of his past. They knew about Eliza Bennett, the tragedy that had sent him to prison. But they also knew about Victoria Vance—the powerful, terrifying force of nature from one of the nation's elite families who loved Kane with an intensity that bordered on obsession.

In fact, rumors whispered in the cell blocks suggested that their release, and Kane's second chance, had been orchestrated in large part by her influence. They owed their freedom to a woman they had never met.

And now, Marcus Grady—the man who prided himself on his wit and charm—had just treated her like a random pickup at a dive bar. He had truly won the lottery of bad luck.

Victoria smiled sweetly, a predator playing with its food. "Marcus, was it? Do you still want me to be your girlfriend? Do you still want to be my 'extra' boyfriend?"

Looking at her flowery smile, which hid a thousand daggers, Marcus's knees went weak. He felt the blood drain from his face. He forced a stiff, terrified grimace onto his lips, looking like a man facing a firing squad.

"Mistake! It was a mistake, The Boss's Wife! Ma'am! You... you have a big heart, a noble spirit... please don't tell Kane! Please! If he knows I disrespected you, he'll skin me alive!"

"Hmph." Victoria sniffed, inspecting her manicured fingernails with nonchalant grace. "You think a simple apology covers it? You treated me like some cheap fling. What kind of woman do you take me for?"

Huh?

Marcus wanted to cry. Tears actually welled up in the corners of his eyes. "Then... Ma'am... what do you want? I'll do anything. I'll shine your shoes. I'll wash your car."

"Simple," Victoria said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do one thing for me, and I'll spare your miserable life."

Marcus straightened up, sensing a lifeline. He pounded his chest, desperate to prove his loyalty. "Anything for The Boss's Wife! I will walk through fire! Tell me, did someone else disrespect you? I'll go kill them right now! I'll bring you their head!"

A glint of amusement danced in Victoria's eyes. She stepped closer, her perfume—a scent of expensive roses and danger—enveloping him.

"From today on," she whispered, "I want you to be my eyes and ears. I want you to watch Kane for me. If any woman makes contact with him—and I mean any woman, from a waitress to a business partner—you send me her file immediately. Name, age, appearance, threat level. If he has any private conversations with a woman, I want the transcript. If he goes anywhere with a woman, I want the GPS coordinates. Do you understand?"

Marcus's eyes bugged out again. His posture collapsed.

What?

A spy? Monitoring the Boss?

He looked at the sky. Oh God, oh ancestors, oh Buddha... what sin did I commit in a past life to deserve this? If I spy on Kane, he kills me. If I don't, she kills me.

"What? You disagree?" Victoria raised an eyebrow, her hand reaching for her phone. "Fine. I'll just go tell your boss exactly what you said to me earlier. Every. Single. Word. Including the part where you asked if I minded having an extra boyfriend."

She turned on her heel as if to walk away.

"Don't!" Marcus let out a low wail. He scrambled in front of her, practically sliding on his knees, and blocked her path. He clasped his hands together in a begging gesture. "Hero! You win! I submit! I'll do it!"

Victoria giggled, the sound light and airy. "Did I threaten you?"

Marcus hung his head, defeated, his soul leaving his body. "No. I volunteered. Enthusiastically."

"Hee hee, good boy." Victoria patted his cheek patronizingly. Then, she turned her gaze to Ghost and Dante, who were still standing there like statues, trying to blend into the scenery.

"And you two... what did you hear?"

Hiss...

The two men sucked in a breath of cold air and waved their hands frantically, shaking their heads so hard their necks cracked.

"Nothing! We heard absolutely nothing! We're deaf! We were just admiring the clouds!"

Victoria lifted her chin triumphantly. With the swagger of a queen who had just quelled a peasant rebellion, she strutted past them, heading deeper into the cemetery toward Kane, who was still kneeling silently among the rows of gravestones.

She left behind a relieved Ghost and Dante, and a dizzy, traumatized Marcus, who was already mentally drafting his resignation letter.

The sun was dipping lower, casting long, melancholic shadows across Larkspur Memorial Park. The wind rustled the dead leaves, creating a symphony of whispers.

When she reached Kane, Victoria didn't speak immediately. She stood beside him, her presence a splash of vibrant color in the gray world of the dead. She closed her eyes in silent respect before Eliza Bennett's tombstone for three full minutes.

Then, she opened her eyes. Her gaze was soft, filled with a complex mixture of respect and determination.

"Eliza... you can rest now," she whispered to the stone. "I brought him out. I saved him. And from now on, I will take care of him for you. I will spoil him, make him happy, make him smile. I promise you, I will do it even better than before. I won't let him fall back into the darkness."

Kane smiled bitterly, shaking his head without looking up. "I'm not a child anymore, Victoria. You don't need to babysit me."

"Hmph." Victoria sniffed, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm a year older than you. To me, you're always a child. My child."

Kane had been on the receiving end of her stubborn affection for years. He knew better than to argue with Victoria Vance. He sighed, standing up and brushing the dirt from his knees. "How did you find me so fast? And... I had reconstructive surgery. My face is different. I'm not the same Julian Cross you knew."

Victoria reached out, cupping his face in her hands. Her skin was warm against the chill of the evening. She studied his new features, her thumb tracing the sharper angle of his jawline. She smiled, her eyes crinkling.

"Giggle... you look even better now. Handsome in a dangerous way. Like a fallen angel."

She stepped back, twirling a lock of hair. "As for how I knew? Simple. Grandpa told me you were getting released and sent me your new file photo. I knew the first place you'd come would be here. You're sentimental like that. So, I bribed the old groundskeeper. I told him if a handsome man came to this grave and knelt for a long time, he should call me immediately. Hee hee, aren't I smart?"

Kane looked at the vibrant, lively girl in front of him. She was life itself, bursting with energy and schemes. He reached up to touch her cheek, gratitude swelling in his chest. He opened his mouth to say thank you.

Victoria covered his mouth with her hand instantly. She pouted, her eyes narrowing playfully. "You were going to say 'thank you' again. I'm warning you, Kane. From today on, you are mine. I don't allow you to say thank you to me. We are past that. Understood? If you understand, nod."

Kane stared at her for a moment, then nodded obediently.

"Hehe, good boy." Victoria removed her hand. She tapped her chin thoughtfully, looking at the black-and-white photo of Eliza on the tombstone.

"Starting today, in this reality, your love for her has transferred. It has transferred to me, Victoria Vance. To prove you love me, and to show Eliza that you aren't drowning in sorrow anymore—that you have found love again—you should... demonstrate it."

Kane looked at Victoria, noticing the faint blush rising on her cheeks despite her bold words. "Demonstrate? Demonstrate what?"

"Hmph!" Victoria knocked him on the head with her knuckles. "Why are you so dense? I don't know why I fell for a block of wood like you. God, I'm going to have to train you properly so you can go out and chase beautiful women later."

Hmm...?

That sounded weird.

Kane widened his eyes. "You want me... to chase... other women?"

"Yeah," Victoria said matter-of-factly. "The more women around you, the more it proves that the man I chose has charm. It validates my taste. If no one else wants you, then what's the point of me having you?"

Kane's eye twitched. This girl's logic... is truly unique. It’s twisted, but in a way, it’s purely her.

"Hee hee, aren't I open-minded? So, since I'm such a generous girlfriend, you have to treat me well. You have to spoil me. Got it?"

Just as she finished speaking, Marcus, Ghost, and Dante crept closer, overhearing the last part of the conversation. The three tough men stumbled in unison, mentally wailing.

Oh God... she's a witch! A chaotic, unpredictable witch!

They silently prayed that Kane wouldn't actually try to chase other women, because Marcus—the unwilling super-spy—would have to document every second of it, and Victoria would probably kill Kane if he actually succeeded, despite what she said. It was a trap. Definitely a trap.

Kane shook his head, a helpless smile on his lips. "You... stop messing around, Victoria."

"Who's messing around? I'm serious." She grabbed his lapels. "Hey! I've said all this, and you still don't get it?"

"Get what?"

"You... you i***t! Kiss me! Right here! Now! Or don't even think about leaving this cemetery."

"Here?" Kane frowned, glancing at the grave. "In front of Eliza?"

"Hmph. I am a woman. I understand a woman's heart better than you," Victoria insisted, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "If you kiss me in front of Eliza, it tells her you have accepted love again. It tells her your heart isn't dead cold. It tells her you're going to live. She will be happier for it. Do it!"

She leaned in, closing her eyes and puckering her lips, waiting.

Kane looked at the photo of Eliza, her smile frozen in time like a lily in amber. He was silent for a long moment. The wind whispered around them, carrying the scent of pine and old memories.

Finally, he exhaled softly. In his heart, he whispered: Eliza, I have to start living again. I have to walk this path of fire. But I promise you... you will always be the love of my life.

Victoria waited. One minute. Two minutes. Nearly three minutes passed. Just as she was about to open her eyes in disappointment and storm off, Kane leaned in.

He pressed his lips gently against hers.

It was tentative at first. Soft, warm, and tasting faintly of mint and promise. Kane’s heart trembled. It was the feeling of life returning to a frozen limb.

Feeling his masculine presence so close, Victoria’s breathing quickened. Her face turned a deep shade of crimson. The stoic facade cracked, revealing the girl who had waited for him for so long.

Just as Kane was about to pull away, thinking a simple peck was enough, Victoria suddenly threw her arms around his neck, pulling him back with surprising strength. She pressed her lips firmly against his again.

This time, it wasn't a gentle peck. It was a claim. It was a declaration of war against his sorrow.

Both of them, caught in the surge of emotion, deepened the kiss. Tongues met, tangling in a dance of longing and release. Under the setting sun, the world seemed to fade away. The gray tombstones, the cold wind, the looming violence of the night—it all receded, painted over by the golden hues of their affection. It was a spark of warmth in a cold world.

After a long time, they parted, breathless. A thin thread of silver saliva connected their lips for a split second before breaking.

Victoria gave him a shy, coquettish glare, her eyes misty. "You look so innocent, but you know quite a few moves, don't you? Where did you learn that?"

Kane scratched his head, genuinely embarrassed for the first time in years. "Practiced a bit. I know the basics."

"Pfft!" Victoria burst out laughing at his rare attempt at humor. She linked her arm through his, holding him tight. "Let's go. Take me to dinner tonight."

Dinner?

Kane checked his internal clock. Tonight wasn't exactly a good time. He had a g**g to rob later. He had a war to start.

But before Kane could make an excuse, Victoria cut him off. "Hmph! Don't say you're busy. I only need a few hours. Besides, you don't even have to pay. I'm treating you. Let's go!"

She dragged him toward the exit, ignoring his protests. As they passed the stunned trio of Marcus, Ghost, and Dante, she stopped for a second.

She pulled a wad of cash from her purse—three hundred dollars—and stuffed it into Marcus's hand.

"Take a taxi. Follow us!"

Then she pulled Kane toward her gray BMW Alpina, shoving him into the passenger seat before hopping in the driver's side and roaring off.

Marcus stood there, the dust from her tires settling on his jacket. He looked at the three hundred bucks in his hand. Then he looked around at the desolate, empty cemetery road, surrounded by miles of wilderness and industrial wasteland.

Taxi?

What am I supposed to hail? A hearse? A passing ghost?

Dante, seeing Victoria's car taillights fading into the distance, shouted desperately. "The Boss's Wife! Where are you going? We'll catch up! Just tell us the destination!"

A faint voice drifted back on the wind.

"Seabreeze Tower!"