Owned By The Devil

Cracks in the Control

The boardroom had never been this quiet. The hum of electronics and distant office chatter usually filled the air, but today, it felt like the entire Kane Dominion building was holding its breath. The atmosphere buzzed with an unease that no one could quite name, yet everyone felt.

Ella sat at the end of the long oak conference table, pretending to read through profit projections. Her eyes skimmed over the charts and graphs, but her mind was far from the numbers. Her heart beat with a mixture of nerves, confusion, and a dangerous curiosity she couldn't shake.

Adrian hadn’t come to the office in two days.

For someone like him—a man addicted to power, to control, to presence—it was completely out of character. He didn’t take time off. He didn’t cancel meetings. Yet he’d vanished, and the entire building noticed. Especially her.

The whispers had started. Rumors floated between departments like smoke:

“Maybe he’s in rehab.” “Or dead.” “No way. He’s probably just f*****g his way through Europe.”

Ella tried to block out the noise, but it crawled into her head anyway. What haunted her most wasn't where he was.

It was the way he’d looked at her the last time they saw each other. Like she wasn't just another assistant. Like she was something more. A threat. A temptation. A weakness.

Her phone buzzed on the desk.

Message from: Adrian

My office. Now.

No greeting. No pretense. Just like him.

Her breath hitched. After all this silence, he wanted her now?

She stood slowly, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted her blouse and smoothed her pencil skirt. Her heels echoed sharply against the marble floor as she made her way down the corridor. Each step closer to his door made her heart beat louder.

The moment she raised her hand to knock, the door opened.

And there he was.

Adrian Kane. The devil in a designer suit.

But this wasn’t the perfectly polished CEO she was used to. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie hanging loose. His jaw was shadowed with stubble, and his dark eyes were bloodshot but burning with something feral.

“Get in,” he said, voice low and rough.

She obeyed without a word.

He shut the door behind her and locked it.

“Two days,” she said, turning to face him. “Not a word. No calls. No texts. You don’t get to just disappear.”

“I needed time,” he growled.

“For what?”

He stepped closer. His scent—leather, spice, and smoke—wrapped around her like a noose.

“To stop thinking about you.”

Her breath caught.

“It didn’t work.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but he reached for her, pulling her against him like he couldn’t help it.

“Do you know what it’s like to crave someone so badly you can’t think straight?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she whispered back. “I do.”

He kissed her—hard, desperate. His hands tangled in her hair as she melted against him. His lips moved with a brutal kind of tenderness, like he was punishing himself for needing her this badly.

Her back hit the wall, and his hand was under her skirt before she could speak. She gasped as he slid her panties down her thighs, lifting her in one motion and pinning her between his body and the glass.

His c**k, thick and hot, pressed against her soaked folds through his trousers.

“I want you like this every day,” he groaned. “Open for me. Wet for me. f*****g mine.”

Her moan was the only reply.

He carried her to the desk and laid her down, his hands stripping her bare with unhurried precision. He looked at her like a man about to sin—again.

He knelt between her legs and devoured her like he was starved. Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk, body arching, thighs trembling. She cried out his name, over and over, as he brought her to the edge and beyond.

And then, finally, he stood.

His pants dropped. His c**k—hard, veined, massive—stood ready. She barely had time to breathe before he was inside her with a savage thrust that stole the air from her lungs.

They moved together like wildfire—hot, uncontrollable, destructive.

“Say it,” he commanded through gritted teeth. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she whimpered. “Adrian, I’m yours.”

He groaned deep in his throat, f*****g her harder, deeper. Her nails raked down his back as her climax hit again, pulling him over the edge with her.

He collapsed against her, both of them gasping, covered in sweat.

Silence.

Until—

BZZZT.

The intercom on his desk buzzed loudly.

He swore under his breath and hit the button.

Receptionist: “Sir, there’s someone here to see you. She says it’s urgent.”

He tensed.

“Who is it?”

Receptionist: “She says her name is... Lena Wolfe.”

Ella sat up slowly. Her skin turned cold.

Adrian’s face darkened. He stepped back, suddenly composed. Distant.

“Get dressed,” he said quietly.

She obeyed.

He didn’t say another word.

And when the door opened again, Ella saw her.

Lena Wolfe.

Tall. Blonde. Gorgeous. Dangerous.

Their eyes locked for a second—ice meeting fire.

And in that moment, Ella knew this wasn’t just another ex.

This was the one he couldn’t destroy.

This was the woman who might destroy him—and take Ella with him and now he was worried out of concern he can't just loss her like that