🖤 MARRIED TO THE DEVIL'S ONLY HEIR 🖤

Alessia’s POV I was seventeen when my father made a deal with a man everyone feared. The devil himself — Lorenzo Moretti. And I had no idea I was the payment. It was raining that night. I remember the sound of thunder shaking our little house. I was upstairs, solving math homework. My little brother was playing with his toys beside me. Then I heard the door slam. I ran to the window and saw my father kneeling on the wet ground. His shirt was soaked. Three black cars were parked in front of our house. Men in suits stood beside them. One of them wore red gloves. Another had a gun tucked behind his back. And the man standing in front of my dad... He wasn’t human. Tall. Clean suit. Eyes colder than death. His face was full of scars, and when he smiled, I got chills. That was the first time I saw Lorenzo Moretti. I pressed my face closer to the glass. “I just need more time,” my dad begged, shaking. “Please, Mr. Moretti. Just a few more months” “Time is over,” the devil said, smoking a cigar. “You took my money. You signed the papers.” “I know… I know… but my daughter—she just started college” My breath caught in my throat. Daughter? My heart pounded fast. What did I have to do with any of this? Then I heard the words that changed my life forever. “You promised her to me,” Lorenzo said coldly. “You give me your daughter, or I take your life.” And my father… My own father didn’t argue. He just whispered, “Okay…” -- I didn’t sleep that night. I stared at the ceiling until the sun rose, hoping it was all a bad dream. But when I came downstairs, I knew it was real. There was a suitcase by the door. My mother was crying. My father couldn’t even look at me. “What is this?” I whispered, confused. Nobody answered. “I said what the hell is this?!” My mom hugged me tightly, sobbing. “You’re going away for a while. Just… stay calm, baby.” “Where?” I asked. “To college? A trip? Where?!” Then the knock came. Three loud knocks. I turned to the door, heart racing. When it opened, two tall men in black stepped inside. One of them had a scar across his mouth. The other wore sunglasses even though it was morning. And behind them... He walked in. Lucien Moretti. He was wearing a black coat, hands in his pocket, looking straight at me like I was a puzzle. Like he already knew everything about me. “You’re Alessia?” he asked in a deep, calm voice. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. His eyes were the coldest thing I’d ever seen. “I’m not here for drama,” he said. “You’re coming with me. Right now.” I laughed. “What?! Who the hell do you think you are?!” “Your husband.” My jaw dropped. My mom cried louder. Lucien stepped forward, just one step, and suddenly the air in the room changed. It was like all the warmth disappeared. “You belong to me now,” he said quietly. “Pack your things or I’ll drag you out.” I stared at my parents. “You sold me?” I whispered. No answer. Tears ran down my face. “You actually sold me?!” “Don’t make this harder than it is,” Lucien said. I turned to him, trembling. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” He stepped even closer. His breath was warm, but his words were cold. “You don’t have a choice.” Before I could say another word, he nodded once, and the men grabbed my arms. I screamed. I kicked. I cried. Nobody helped me. That was the last time I saw my home. --- Lucien’s POV She wouldn’t stop crying. Even after we got into the car. Even after we drove halfway across the city. Even after she realized nobody was coming to save her. Weak. I didn’t speak. I just sat there, watching her. Her tears. Her fear. Her silence. I didn’t want her. I didn’t ask for her. But my father made the deal. He said I needed a wife. I needed an heir. I needed someone to complete the legacy. I didn’t care about any of that. Love? Romance? Happiness? That sh*t didn’t exist in my world. All I cared about was control. Power. Loyalty. She was mine now. That’s all that mattered. --- Alessia’s POV: When we got to his house, I realized it wasn’t just a house. It was a f**king fortress. Tall gates. Security cameras. Guards everywhere. Blood-stained floors. Marble halls. Gold chandeliers. And the silence? Terrifying. Lucien walked ahead, not looking back. I followed, because I was too scared to do anything else. We entered a giant room. His office. He sat behind the desk. I stood like a prisoner. Then he looked at me — really looked. “I’m not your prince charming,” he said. I glared at him. “You’re not even a man.” He smirked. “Good. Keep that fire. You’ll need it.” He opened a drawer and placed a paper on the desk. A marriage contract. “Sign it,” he said. I stared at him. “No.” He got up slowly and walked around the desk. Each step made my heart beat faster. He stopped in front of me. “You sign it, or I make your life a living hell.” I looked up at him. Hating him. Fearing him. But knowing I was already his. I picked up the pen. My hand was shaking. And I signed. Alessia Rivera Moretti. He then led me to his room. I sat on the edge of the bed. Not just any bed—his bed. It was bigger than my whole bedroom back home. Black sheets. Cold pillows. Dim red lights. The moment I walked into the room, I felt like I stepped into hell. My fingers were still shaking from signing that paper. My last name was no longer Rivera. It was Moretti now. His. My legs dangled off the bed. My suitcase sat unopened on the floor. I didn’t even know what was inside. I was too numb to care. The door clicked. I froze. Lucien walked in. He had taken off his jacket. His black shirt was halfway unbuttoned. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His skin looked like carved stone. And his eyes… Those eyes looked straight through me. “You’re still dressed,” he said simply. I blinked. “Excuse me?” “You’re my wife now,” he said, walking toward the closet. “Do I need to explain what that means?” I stood up at once. “Touch me and I swear I’ll scream—” “No one will hear you,” he cut me off, not even looking my way. “This house is soundproof. Every wall. Every room.” My knees went weak. Lucien opened the closet and grabbed a black robe. He tossed it on the bed. “Wear that. Then lie down.” I didn’t move. I just stared at the robe like it was poison. “I’m not a toy,” I whispered. “I don’t play with toys,” he replied. “I break them.” My throat tightened. He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “You’re not here to fall in love. You’re not here to ask questions. You’re not here to be special.” “Then why the f**k marry me?” I snapped. “Because I need an heir,” he said coldly. “And my father made a deal. That’s all you are. A deal.” His words cut deeper than any knife. I looked at him, tears threatening my eyes again. “You’re a monster.” Lucien tilted his head slightly, that same unreadable face. “I was raised by one.” --- Lucien’s POV She looked fragile. But her eyes… they burned. She had more fight than I expected. That could be dangerous. I didn’t want a fighter. I wanted silence. Obedience. Control. I wasn’t interested in her beauty, though I noticed it. The way her soft brown hair curled at the edges. The way her lips trembled. The innocence still in her eyes. It wouldn’t last. No one stayed innocent in my world. “Wear the robe,” I said again. She didn’t move. I sighed and leaned against the wall. “Fine. You want to play tough? Keep your clothes. But the first time you disobey in front of my father, I’ll punish you where everyone can watch.” Her eyes widened. She finally grabbed the robe with shaky hands and walked into the bathroom. The door shut. I stared at it for a few seconds. Then turned and walked to the window. This wasn’t a marriage. It was a prison. For both of us.