Sold to the Devil

Chapter5

~Caught in the web~

Kayla who's eager to leave Derrick's underground world for all it takes, swores to find out Hidden facts that could help her.

She was walking past the hallway when she noticed that she wasn't being watched by the guards and there was no trace of Derrick, seeing that no one paid attention to her made her so happy.

She passed through a door, climbing down the stairs not knowing where she was headed to, it was lower than the other hallway - Then it dawned on her that it was another underground world.

The walls were lined up with bookshelves that contained ancient looking books, some were so old, the bold silver lettering had faded. The place looked so calm, it seemed like a place meant for secrets.

A large desk placed at the heart of the room, papers were arranged in neat piles, but it wasn't the desk that caught her attention. It was something behind the desk under a gleaming light, She got more closer to find out what it was - it was a cabinet, she moved more closer, tested the handle, locked of course.

She looked around searching for the keys, but she saw nothing.

“Guess who we have here”, Derrick.

Hot chills ran through her spine.

She turned slowly, trying to maintain an eye contact with him, He was, leaning against the door way, arms crossed watching her like he was already expecting this from her.

She swallowed hard trying to hide her fears from him. “l was Just looking around”.

He stepped inside, The door clicking shut - Every of his steps sounded like that of a wounded lion, he stepped closer to her his gaze never leaving hers.

“Looking around”, his voice was smooth like he was lost “or perhaps searching?”.

She lifted her chin refusing to back down, “Nothing, I was actually doing nothing”.

His lips curled at her boldness, Nothing I see but you are just on the verge of knowing the content of the cabinet?.

A slow smirk appeared his face, he got more closer to her, his hands bracing against the cabinet behind her, Caging her in.

Let's say pretty one somethings are meant to stay hidden His fingers ran through the cabinet, slowly.

“And you should never be seen around this place”, this is my study and no one is allowed in here.

Her breathe hitched, but she forced herself to hold his gaze.

“What if I don't?”

His smirk deepened, a dark promise in his eyes “Then I suppose I’ll have to teach you the consequences”.

She became restless and tensed, the little space between them feeling so thick and intoxicating. She became afraid and knew that it was time to retreat, but the fire burning in his eyes - the way he stood so close yet refused to touch her, it Ignited something in her.

A challenge.

A game neither of them could seem to stop playing.

And she had just raised the stakes.

Her heart pounding as she held his gaze, refusing to be the first to look away more like a competition.

He was eagerly waiting - to see how far she would go, how long she could be able to keep up under his presence.

But she wasn't going to surrender easily.

Not yet.

She frowned her face “I don't fear your consequences”.

A slow smirk appeared his lips “You should pretty one, you are going to run”

She lifted her chin “I should”.

His smirk deepened. “Then do it”

She stiffened.

He was daring her. Inviting her to try

She felt so tensed and afraid that she had to let her pride down to accept the challenge.

With a deep breath, she spun and ran to the door, wrenching it open. The hallway yawned before her, consumed by darkness - long, empty and shrouded in flickering shadows. A cold draft curled around her skin but the real chill came from within.

Run!!

The command echoed in her mind, she didn't think - just moved, her footsteps shattering over the marble. She moved forward, her heartbeat was drawn in her chest. She had no destination, no plan, only one certainty pulsed through her veins.

At the end of the hallway, a pair of double doors slightly open - an invitation or an oversight, he didn't care.

She shoved the door open, trembling into the night. Cool air wrapped around her, sharp with the scent of looming darkness.

The stone terrace stretched out before her, overlooking the mansions vast grounds - manicured gardens, and beyond them was the looming darkness of the garden.

She felt freedom.

She ran down the steps, her feet sinking into the damp grass as she sprinted towards the tree line. The towering trees, stood ahead, dark and endless - a sanctuary waiting to swallow her whole If she could reach them, vanish into the shadows - fingers closed around her waist, A sharp gasp barely left her lips before she was pulled back, spun around, her body colliding with an unyielding chest. Heat. power, A hold that refused to waver.

“You run so well, pretty one”, He murmured, But not well enough.

Her pulse pounded, her body trembling-this time not in fear but in something dangerous she couldn't apprehend.

She twisted in his grasp, fighting against the inevitability of his hold. But his fingers only tightened and she needn’t anyone to tell her that he was in control.

His lips brushed her ears, his voice a dark promise. “Did you really think I'd let you go?”.

A tremor ran through her, fury and defiance.

“I will escape”, she said, “you can't keep me here forever.”

A slow dangerous chuckle rumbled from him “Who said anything about keeping you prisoner?”

She sighed

His grip eased, just enough for his fingers to skim down her arm, slow and deliberate.

“Run all you want. Fight me. Hate me”. His voice dropped to a whisper. “But you will always find yourself where I want you to”.

His words sank deep into her memory, a warning rapped in a promise.

And he slowly turned her face to him, their eyes locked beneath the faint radiance of the moon, she understood the truth

This wasn't just a game.

It was a battle.

And she wasn't sure she could win.

The night air coiled around them, heavy with unspoken tension. His grip on her wrist was unyielding, his touch searing despite the crisp wind cutting through the trees.

She should scream. Fight. Do something.

But the way he looked at her—like she was a game he had already mastered—set fire to her veins.

“You think you’ve won,” she whispered, her voice trembling with defiance.

"You think you won't"she whispered, her voice unsteady but laced with defiance.

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk. “Haven’t I?”

Something inside her shattered. Rage ignited.

She wrenched her wrist free, twisting with everything she had. His grip slackened just enough—she broke loose.

No hesitation.

Her fist flew toward his face.

But he was faster.

She struck without thinking.

Her fist arced toward his face, swift and precise.

But he was quicker.

He snatched her wrist midair, his movements effortless—like he had anticipated it. Before she could recoil, he twisted her around, pulling her flush against him, his hold unyielding, inescapable.

He seized her wrist midair, his movements fluid, as if he had anticipated the strike before she

even made it. In one swift motion, he spun her around, caging her against him with an unyielding grip.

A sharp gasp tore from her lips as her back collided with his chest, her heart pounding like a war drum against her ribs.