I Am the Devil of This Hell

Chapter 029

Seabreeze Tower.

In the sprawling urban jungle of Larkspur, this building was the alpha predator. Standing eighteen stories tall, it was a monolith of tempered glass and reinforced steel, dominating the skyline of the southern district. It was listed as one of the city's Seven Landmarks, a beacon of excess in a city of shadows.

Eighteen floors. Eighteen levels of service. Eighteen distinct culinary worlds.

It was a place where the worlds of legitimate business and the dark underbelly of society intersected over thousand-dollar bottles of wine. It was the preferred playground for government officials, wealthy merchants, and power brokers. In Seabreeze Tower, the higher you sat, the more respect you commanded. The penthouse was for gods; the lobby was for mortals.

Tonight, Victoria Vance and Kane Adler sat on the twelfth floor.

This level was known as The Sapphire Lounge. It was designed for intimacy and high-stakes negotiation. The lighting was low, the music was a soft jazz piano that seemed to float in the air, and the minimum spend for a table here was two thousand dollars—enough to feed a family in the outer districts for two months.

Victoria raised her crystal flute, the champagne inside bubbling like liquid gold. She wore a smile that could start wars or end them.

"To your freedom," she whispered, her eyes locking onto his.

Kane raised his glass, clinking it gently against hers. The sound rang clear and pure in the quiet room.

"Thank you," Kane said, his voice husky. "Thank you for loving me. I... I am honored."

Victoria looked at him, amused. She tilted her head playfully, a lock of hair falling over her eye. "I like hearing that. Since you feel honored, you must promise to spoil me from now on. Don't make me sad. And more importantly... don't treat your life like it's cheap. I want you happy. I want you alive. Consider tonight our first official date. I want you to remember this moment. And... I want you to promise me one thing."

Kane took a sip of the wine, feeling the burn. "What is it?"

Victoria grinned, a mischievous light dancing in her eyes. "Promise me you will marry me."

The air in the room seemed to still. Kane looked at her. Her face was flushed slightly from the alcohol, but her eyes were deadly serious.

He smiled, a slow, genuine smile. "I will work hard to satisfy your grandfather. Four years. Give me four years. If I am still alive after four years... I will march up to the Vance Estate and ask the Chairman for your hand."

Victoria reached across the table, her hand engulfing his. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "I believe you. You will survive. My grandfather said that as long as you can endure the fire for four years, he will put the full weight of the Vance Empire behind you."

"Your grandfather seems to have high hopes for his future grandson-in-law," Kane mused. "It seems I'll need to find an opportunity to pay my respects to the old General."

"He loves me," Victoria said simply. "As long as you love me, he'll be happy. By the way... you don't have anything else to do tonight, right?"

Kane hesitated. "I..."

"Hah! I knew it. You just got out; you're free." She cut him off before he could formulate an excuse about the impending g**g war. "Great. Since it's the weekend, come to my place. My parents aren't in Larkspur. It's just me in that big, empty house. It gets lonely. You... should just move in."

"Uh..."

"Silence means consent!" Victoria clapped her hands. "Hee hee, I knew you were the best."

Pfffft!

At the adjacent table, Marcus Grady had been enjoying a glass of very expensive Pinot Noir. Upon hearing the words "move in," the wine projected from his mouth in a fine red mist, coating Ghost (Yang Yuan), who was sitting opposite him.

Victoria raised an elegant eyebrow, slowly turning her head to glare at Marcus.

Marcus froze. He grabbed a napkin and began frantically scrubbing Ghost’s soaking wet shirt. Ghost sat there, his face twitching with murderous intent, teeth grinding together audibly.

"Look at you," Marcus scolded Ghost, trying to deflect the blame. "Wasting good wine. If you didn't want to drink it, just say so. Why make me spray it on you?"

Ghost’s voice was a low growl. " let me spray my drink on you, and we'll call it even."

"Hmph." Victoria snorted, turning back to Kane. "Three lightbulbs. Three giant, bright, third-wheel lightbulbs."

One hour later.

The convoy of cars pulled up to a secluded area in the wealthy northern suburbs. They stood outside a magnificent, modern villa that looked less like a house and more like a fortress of solitude wrapped in ivy and expensive stone.

Victoria stood by the gate, spreading her arms and inhaling the night air.

"This is my little nest," she chirped. "Hee hee, and from now on, it's our little nest. Do you like it?"

Kane looked around. The landscaping was impeccable—manicured hedges, tasteful flower beds, and a small private grove of birch trees that offered complete privacy. It was quiet here. The kind of quiet that money buys.

"It's nice," Kane nodded. "Very peaceful. By the way, what do your parents do? You never mentioned them."

"Oh, them?" Victoria unlocked the heavy oak front door. "They're in the defense contracting business. With my grandfather being the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, business is... smooth. They travel a lot. They rarely visit. I prefer the quiet, honestly. Grandpa raised me."

She pushed the door open. "Coming? Why are you standing there like a statue?"

Kane let out a silent sigh. This girl was t*****e. He did have a mission tonight. He had eighty men waiting for him at the paper mill. He had a g**g to crush. He couldn't waste time here.

"Victoria, I..."

"I what? Get inside!" She grabbed Kane's arm and yanked him across the threshold. Then, she spun around, pointing a warning finger at Marcus, Ghost, and Dante, who were instinctively stepping forward to follow their boss.

"Halt! Where do you think you're going? Gentlemen do not enter a lady's boudoir uninvited. Wait outside!"

SLAM!

The heavy door shut in their faces with a definitive thud.

Marcus, Ghost, and Dante stood on the porch, staring at the wood grain. They looked at each other, then up at the moon, and sighed in unison.

Inside, the villa was a masterpiece of interior design. It was a two-story luxury residence, and the decor perfectly matched its owner: opulent, elegant, but with an underlying streak of wild arrogance. Velvet drapes, abstract art, and furniture that cost more than a luxury car.

"Sit. Don't just stand there."

Victoria practically pushed Kane onto the plush Italian leather sofa. She took his jacket, tossing it aside carelessly.

"Tonight, you belong to me. You aren't going anywhere. Do you understand?"

She didn't sit next to him. She sat on him.

She straddled his lap, her arms hooking around his neck, her forehead resting gently against his. Her voice dropped to a sultry purr that vibrated through Kane’s chest.

"You're mine."

A scent enveloped him—a perfume that was subtle yet overpowering, like a d**g. It was a mix of jasmine and something darker, muskier. It made Kane’s head spin. It was an intoxication completely different from what he had felt with Eliza Bennett.

Eliza...

Eliza had been his "white moonlight." She was gentle, conservative, a fragile flower. In their two years together, their intimacy had been sweet and restrained—holding hands, chaste hugs, kisses that were light as dragonflies skimming the water.

But Victoria Vance?

She was a firestorm. She was bold, demanding, and radiated a raw, magnetic heat that seemed to burn from the inside out. Her charm wasn't polite; it was aggressive. It clawed at his restraint.

Kane felt his heart hammering against his ribs, a drumbeat of rising desire. Without conscious thought, his hands found their way to her waist. It was impossibly slender, soft and yielding under his grip.

Victoria blushed, a lovely shade of rose spreading across her cheeks, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she collapsed into his embrace, her breath hot against his neck.

"From today on, you are mine," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Mine alone. Do you know... every time I saw you with Eliza, I was so jealous. I wanted to die with envy. I wanted to be the one in your arms. I always told myself I wasn't worse than her. I always believed that if I were the one by your side, I could make you happier. I could give you the world."

Kane tightened his arms around her. He kissed her forehead tenderly. His heart was a chaotic mix of love, guilt, and overwhelming gratitude. What had he done to deserve two such incredible women in one lifetime?

Victoria lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears and fierce determination.

"Say you love me. Please."

Kane traced the line of her cheekbone with his thumb. "I love you. I love you deeply, in this life and the next."

Victoria broke into a dazzling smile, and then she crashed her lips against his.

It was an explosion.

Two souls, starved of connection, tangled together on the sofa. Victoria clung to his neck, her breathing becoming ragged and desperate, trying to fuse her body with his. Kane’s large hands began to roam, exploring the curves he had only dreamed of in the cold, lonely nights of the prison.

Garments—the barriers of civilization—were discarded one by one.

The loose jacket, the tight sweater, the stylish boots... they all ended up on the floor.

Soon, her upper body was left with only a sheer black lace b*a, barely containing the proud, creamy swell of her chest. It was a stark contrast against her pale skin, a declaration of her maturity and s*x appeal.

Lower down, her waist was a masterpiece of curves, leading to long, slender legs that were now exposed, glowing in the soft amber light of the chandelier. Even her feet were beautiful, her toes curling in pleasure.

Kane had never seen such a sight. Victoria’s eyes were half-closed, misty with desire, a seductive smile playing on her swollen lips. She was a siren, a temptress, every movement designed to snap the last threads of his rationality.

He took several deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm the beast in his blood, but it was futile. The Bloodlust wasn't just for violence; it was for life, for sensation.

With a low groan, Kane flipped their positions, pressing her into the soft cushions of the sofa. He kissed her hungrily, his mouth trailing fire down her neck, over her collarbone, worshipping every inch of her skin.

One hand slid up to cup the softness beneath the black lace. The other hand drifted lower, sliding past her navel, seeking the heat of her core.

Victoria gasped, a jolt of electricity shooting through her. The sensation of his hand moving lower cleared the fog of l**t from her mind for a split second. She looked up at Kane, whose eyes were red with desire, lost in the moment.

Her face flushed a deep crimson, hotter than before. She instinctively clamped her legs together.

"Husband... wait... stop."

But Kane was a runaway train. He didn't hear her. He didn't want to hear her. He moved to kiss her lips again, intent on drowning out her protests.

"Mmmph..." Victoria struggled, twisting her body with the last of her strength. She managed to wrench her mouth free, gasping for air.

"KANE!" she practically shrieked, breathless and flushed. "Husband! Stop! You have a mission tonight!"