In Love With the Devil's Son

The Ruin ‎ ‎The rain had not stoThe smell of damp wood filled every corner ‎ ‎She remembered when this house had been filled with people — business partners, family friends, and laughter drifting from the dining hall during long dinners. Now the echo of her father’s cough was the loudest sound, a reminder of everything that had been stolen. ‎ ‎On the couch sat her father, shoulders hunched, his once-proud figure reduced to a shell. His hands trembled as he clutched an old photograph of better days. His eyes, which once shone with fire and ambition, were now cloudy and distant. ‎ ‎Joy’s heart twisted. She hated seeing him like this — broken, defeated. ‎ ‎They said it was one man who had caused their downfall. A man who moved like a shadow in the world of power and business. One whose name made even grown men whisper in fear. ‎ ‎Damian Volkov. ‎ ‎People called him many things: ruthless, untouchable, merciless. But most whispered one name with a shiver — The Devil’s Son. ‎ ‎Joy didn’t know if he truly was as heartless as the rumors painted him, but the evidence was all around her. Their empire destroyed. Their fortune gone. Her father, humiliated. Their family name dragged through the mud. ‎ ‎“Papa, you need to rest,” she whispered softly, kneeling beside him. She placed her hand over his, trying to steady the photograph he clung to. But his eyes stayed locked on the picture — a family portrait taken years ago, when her mother was still alive, when they still smiled without worry. ‎ ‎He didn’t answer. He rarely did these days. ‎ ‎Joy swallowed hard, forcing back the tears that burned her throat. Someone had to be strong. If her father had lost his fight, then she would carry it for him. ‎ ‎A soft knock echoed at the door. She straightened, her body tense. Few people visited anymore — old friends had vanished the moment their wealth crumbled, leaving them abandoned like they had never existed. ‎ ‎It was the landlord. Again. His voice was cold and sharp, slicing through the silence. ‎ ‎“Joy, tell your father this is the last warning. If the debt is not cleared, you’ll have to leave this place by the end of the month.” ‎ ‎Joy’s fists clenched. She bit her lip, forcing herself to stay calm as she replied through the door. “We just need more time.” ‎ ‎But the footsteps walking away told her he didn’t care. ‎ ‎Her chest tightened. Where would they even go? The thought of her father sleeping on the streets made her stomach churn. ‎ ‎She turned back to him, kneeling once more. “I promise, Papa,” she whispered fiercely, though her voice trembled, “I’ll fix this. Somehow. I’ll find a way.” ‎ ‎But deep inside, she knew the truth. The man responsible for their ruin was untouchable. Damian Volkov didn’t care about the people he crushed. To him, they were just pawns in a game he always won. ‎ ‎Still, Joy made herself a silent vow. If fate ever brought her face-to-face with the Devil’s Son, she would never bow. She would never beg. And she would make him regret what he had done. ‎ ‎What she didn’t know was that fate was already moving, silently weaving a path that would soon entangle her with the very man she hated most. ‎