Bound To The Devil's Heir

The Woman Who Knows His Name

Ayla avoided Lucien for the rest of the day.

Not out of fear.

That’s what she told herself.

It was strategy.

Distance meant clarity.

And right now, she needed it.

Because every time she looked at him, all she could see was blood on the ground… and the way he hadn’t hesitated.

By evening, she had almost convinced herself she could handle this.

Almost.

A soft knock came at her door.

“Miss Ayla,” a maid’s voice called gently. “Mr. Valtieri requests your presence.”

Ayla closed her eyes briefly.

Of course he did.

“Where?”

“The main hall.”

She exhaled slowly. “I’ll be down.”

A few minutes later, she stepped out of her room, composed, steady.

Ready.

Or at least pretending to be.

The main hall was brighter than the rest of the house, warm lighting reflecting off marble floors and high glass walls.

And Lucien wasn’t alone.

A woman stood beside him.

Tall. Elegant. Perfectly put together.

She turned the moment Ayla entered.

And smiled.

It wasn’t friendly.

It was… assessing.

“So this is her,” the woman said.

Ayla didn’t miss the tone.

She walked closer, her posture straight, her expression calm.

“And you are?” Ayla asked.

The woman’s smile widened slightly.

“Someone who knew Lucien before you existed in his world.”

Ayla glanced briefly at him.

He didn’t intervene.

Interesting.

The woman stepped forward, extending her hand.

“Valeria Moretti.”

The name meant nothing to Ayla.

But the confidence did.

Ayla didn’t take her hand immediately.

Just looked at it.

Then at her.

“I didn’t realize introductions here came with attitude,” Ayla said calmly.

Valeria’s smile didn’t fade.

“If you’re going to stand beside him,” she said softly, “you should understand where you stand.”

Ayla finally took her hand.

Firm.

Controlled.

“I stand exactly where I choose to.”

Their hands parted.

The air between them shifted.

Lucien finally spoke.

“Valeria is an associate.”

Ayla almost smiled.

“That sounds vague.”

“It’s meant to be.”

Valeria let out a soft laugh.

“You always did prefer mystery, Lucien.”

Her tone softened when she said his name.

Too familiar.

Ayla noticed.

Of course she did.

“Why is she here?” Ayla asked, turning to him.

“Business.”

Valeria tilted her head slightly. “And curiosity.”

Ayla raised a brow. “About?”

“You.”

That wasn’t surprising.

Still, it irritated her.

“Then I hope you’re not disappointed,” Ayla said.

Valeria stepped closer.

Close enough to invade space without touching.

“Oh, I’m not,” she said quietly. “Just… unimpressed.”

There it was.

Ayla smiled faintly.

“I’d be worried if I cared.”

For a brief second, something flickered in Valeria’s eyes.

Then it was gone.

Lucien watched the exchange silently.

Observing.

Measuring.

As always.

“Dinner,” he said simply.

The word cut through the tension.

They moved to the dining table.

Ayla sat across from Lucien.

Valeria took the seat beside him.

Of course she did.

Conversation started smoothly.

Too smoothly.

Valeria spoke like she belonged there.

Like she had always belonged there.

She knew things—details, names, places.

She laughed easily.

And Lucien listened.

Not warmly.

But not dismissively either.

That alone said enough.

Ayla stayed quiet at first.

Watching.

Learning.

Until—

“Tell me, Ayla,” Valeria said, setting down her glass. “How does it feel?”

Ayla met her gaze. “How does what feel?”

“Marrying into a world you don’t understand.”

The question was light.

But the intention wasn’t.

Ayla didn’t hesitate.

“Like stepping into something I’ll figure out.”

Valeria smiled slightly. “Confidence is dangerous when it’s misplaced.”

“And so is underestimating people,” Ayla replied.

Silence flickered.

Lucien’s gaze shifted between them.

Interested.

Valeria leaned back.

“You’re bold,” she said.

“I’m honest.”

“That won’t protect you here.”

Ayla tilted her head slightly.

“I’m not looking for protection.”

That was when it happened.

Lucien’s hand moved.

Subtle.

But deliberate.

He rested it lightly against the table—close enough to Ayla’s side to be noticed.

Not touching.

But present.

A silent statement.

Valeria noticed.

Of course she did.

Her expression changed—just for a second.

Then she smiled again.

But this time—

It didn’t reach her eyes.

Dinner continued, but the tone had shifted.

The balance had changed.

And Ayla felt it.

Even if she didn’t fully understand it yet.

Later, as the evening ended, Valeria stood.

“It was… interesting meeting you,” she said to Ayla.

“Likewise.”

A pause.

Then Valeria leaned slightly closer.

“Just remember,” she murmured, “people don’t survive in his world by accident.”

Ayla held her gaze.

“Good thing I’m not here by accident.”

Valeria smiled faintly.

Then turned to Lucien.

“Don’t get bored too quickly,” she said softly.

Lucien didn’t respond.

He just watched her leave.

Silence followed.

Ayla exhaled slowly.

“Well,” she said, “that was pleasant.”

Lucien’s gaze shifted to her.

“What did you think?”

Ayla shrugged lightly.

“She’s used to having a place in your life.”

“Yes.”

The honesty caught her off guard.

“And now?” she asked.

A pause.

Lucien stood, stepping closer.

“Now,” he said quietly,

“She doesn’t.”

The words landed heavier than expected.

Ayla looked up at him.

Too close.

Too aware.

“And what about me?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Another pause.

Longer this time.

Lucien studied her.

Carefully.

Like he was deciding something.

Then—

“You’re still being placed.”

Her chest tightened slightly.

Before she could respond, he turned and walked away.

Leaving her standing there.

Thinking.

Processing.

Feeling something she didn't want to name.