Chapter 100: Asmodeus
Just a massive bed set atop a slightly raised platform.
The black sheets looked softer than anything Blanche had ever touched, while several dark-toned cushions were scattered across it with that carefully curated disorder unique to people who paid someone to make their lives look effortlessly messy.
Which, knowing Phénix, wasn't entirely impossible.
Beside it stood a fully stocked wardrobe. And once again... Blanche paused for several seconds to take it in.
Suits. Shirts. Coats. Leather jackets.
Clothes clearly tailored for slender, androgynous men.
Every piece impeccably maintained.
Every piece outrageously elegant.
Briefly, Blanche wondered how many centuries it took to accumulate a wardrobe like that.
Or how many lovers.
With Phénix, both possibilities seemed equally plausible.
Her gaze was then drawn to a pair of mirrors installed near the back of the loft.
One looked perfectly ordinary.
The other, however...
She recognized it immediately.
The frame.
The slightly unreal reflections.
That strange sensation that the surface wasn't entirely a surface.
A twin mirror—one of them looking suspiciously similar to the one in Kiyan's office.
Another entrance to his manor.
Of course.
Why settle for a single secret doorway when you could connect half your properties through magical portals?
Blanche was beginning to understand that wealthy immortals developed a very peculiar relationship with concepts such as space and practicality.
The loft reflected Phénix in every detail.
Luxury.
Controlled excess.
Comfort.
And that constant impression that its owner categorically refused to choose between refinement, power, and pleasure.
Honestly?
She almost expected to discover a hidden jacuzzi behind a sofa or a tame tiger lounging in a corner.
With Grand Marquis Phénix, neither would have been surprising anymore.
In the living room, a man was watching them from his seat, looking mildly intrigued.
"You!" Blanche exclaimed, recognizing the man who had threatened her at her house on the day she returned from the hospital.
Nothing like Nathaniel.
Worse.
It was him.
"Little Blanche!" he greeted cheerfully. "Still as radiant as ever!"
"You know him?" Kiyan asked at the exact same moment she spoke.
She answered her guardian first.
"He came to my house. He's the one who exposed my last name and pushed my mother into telling me everything. Is he...?"
Kiyan nodded.
Beside him, Blanche immediately felt the stranger's attention settle on them.
Or rather, on her.
The man hadn't moved.
Still lounging in his armchair, a glass resting on the armrest, he watched them with an almost unsettling calm.
No urgency.
No surprise.
As though he had been expecting them forever.
As though he already knew they would come.
Even if he didn't know why.
And somehow, that was far more intimidating than any display of power.
The stranger watched them without standing.
His eyes—entirely red, lacking both iris and pupil—wrapped around her with an uncanny charm.
Blanche found it surprisingly difficult to hold his gaze.
Not because it was hostile.
Because it was impossible to read.
No iris.
No pupil.
No movement that might reveal his thoughts.
Just two scarlet discs that seemed to absorb light itself.
And yet...
They were alive.
Terribly alive.
Neither handsome nor ugly.
But charismatic.
And dangerous.
That was exactly it.
The man lacked Kiyan's cold beauty and Phénix's overwhelming magnetism.
His presence worked differently.
More insidiously.
Like refined poison.
Like a fire one stares into while fully aware it will burn.
Every detail seemed designed to attract attention without ever demanding it.
His posture.
The way he held his glass.
His composure.
Even his silence felt meaningful.
Blanche felt her ability activate almost immediately.
Colors burst around him.
Dark red.
Violet.
White.
Black.
Rich, deep shades intertwined endlessly like coils of smoke.
And amidst that already impressive display, crimson threads ran through the aura like luminous veins.
They pulsed slowly.
Alive.
Almost hypnotic.
Blanche remained still.
Fascinated despite herself.
So this man was her father.
Or rather, the demonic soul that had once inhabited Nathaniel.
The realization made her dizzy.
Because she had prepared herself for many things.
A monster, probably.
A demon, given her genetics.
A terrifying being, considering his pedigree.
Not someone who seemed so...
Real.
So human.
Even with those impossible eyes.
Even with that overwhelming aura.
Luxury.
Passion.
Danger.
Arrogance.
Power.
Elegance.
Those were the things vibrating around him.
The colors confirmed what her instincts already suspected.
The dark red burned with limitless ambition.
The violet radiated prestige, wealth, and a love of beautiful things.
The black added that familiar layer of mystery and pain Blanche was beginning to recognize in those who had lived far too long.
As for the white...
It appeared in unexpected flashes, almost contradictory amid everything else.
Like the remnant of something purer.
Or older.
No wonder she recognized a piece of herself in it.
The realization struck her abruptly.
A little of the arrogance.
A little of the taste for luxury.
That consuming passion that sometimes carried her away before she could think.
That near-instinctive attraction to danger.
Even her constant habit of hiding her wounds behind humor suddenly felt familiar.
Like a distorted reflection.
As though she were looking at some of her own flaws enlarged, refined, and perfected by centuries of existence.
The thought was deeply unsettling.
And yet...
For the first time since arriving, Blanche understood why her mother could have fallen in love with him.
Or with Nathaniel.
Perhaps both.
Because this man possessed something undeniable.
A presence.
A silent gravitational pull.
The sort of person who walked into a room and inevitably became its center.
Even without standing.
Even without speaking.
Even without trying.
And honestly...
That was probably the most alarming family trait of all.
She took far more after her father than her mother.
"You don't recognize me?" the demon asked. "I know I've changed pajamas, but still... you always recognized me before."
"Blanche," Kiyan interrupted. "Allow me to introduce Asmodeus, Demonic Prince of the Incubi. The Sin of Lust. Asmodeus, this is Blanche. She is under my guardianship."
An odd choice of words.
Blanche immediately understood that it was best to keep her origins hidden.
But...
Should she also hide the fact that she knew exactly who he was to her?
Then the obvious answer hit her.
A one-night stand.
Her father...
Didn't even know he had a child.
She went pale.
"Just tell me one thing," she asked Phénix. "Does he know exactly who I am?"
"Nope," the demon replied while mixing a cocktail behind the bar.
That was exceptionally bad timing.