Chapter 10: Chapter Nine

The scent of tobacco and leather curled through the air like temptation.

Hunter Groves sat behind his dark obsidian desk in the upper office of Devil's Den, a space more like a throne room than a workspace. Dark velvet curtains muted the afternoon light, casting the room in shadows and low amber tones. The soundproof walls kept the chaos of the club below at bay, isolating him in his own twisted kingdom.

Two days.

Two goddamn days since he saw her.

Mirabella Antonio.

His little doll.

Her curves had tattooed themselves into his memory. The sway of her hips, the unconscious pout of her lips, the way her dress hugged her like a second skin, the way her head fell back in laughter…fuck. She didn’t even know what she did to men. Didn’t know what she had done to him.

He was going to take his time with her. Build the tension. Watch her breathe, live, think she had choices.

Because once he touched her—once he claimed her—there would be no turning back. No freedom.

She’d belong to him. Body. Mind. Soul.

He didn’t believe in love. That was for the weak.

But ownership? That was real.

And Mirabella would soon learn the full weight of it.

There was a knock and the door creaked open.

Jackie stepped in, eyes lit with anticipation, cheeks already flushed as she swayed with a practiced curve of her spine. She always came dressed like she wanted to be unwrapped. Today was no exception. She was dressed in sheer black lace that barely covered her nipples, a high slit skirt with no panties, and heels that clicked on the hardwood like an invitation. She frequents the club these days.

"Hunter," she purred, closing the door behind her. “Do you want anything?"

Hunter didn’t speak.

He just looked at her with that cold, unreadable expression, then pointed to the rug in front of his desk.

"On your knees."

Jackie dropped instantly, eager, breathing a little heavier.

Hunter leaned back in his chair and sipped from the tumbler of bourbon in his hand. "Take off your top… skirt. Everything on you."

She obeyed, exposing her breasts, nipples already hard. Her pussy was already dripping.

"Now," he murmured, "Pleasure yourself."

She blinked. "Right here?"

He raised a brow. “Did I fucking stutter?”

Jackie sat back on her heels, spread her legs slightly, and slid her fingers down, parting her folds with shaky fingers, she pleasured herself with outstanding excitement. Her breath hitched as she started rubbing slowly, knowing he was watching every flick, every motion. His gaze bore into her like fire.

Hunter stood after a few moments and walked around the desk, close but not touching her.

“Open your legs wider and don’t cum.”

She whimpered, spreading her legs wider, fingers working faster.

“I said, don’t.”

The tension in her body was visibly building up. Her thighs shook. Her lips parted in a silent plea. She was close, trembling at the edge, but she obeyed — for a while.

And then her body betrayed her.

“Oh… fuck, Hunter…I’m…!”

She exploded, moaning into the room, collapsing forward as her orgasm ripped through her.

There was silence.

Then a dark smile curved his mouth.

"You disobeyed. You broke my rule," he said coldly.

Her eyes widened. “Devil, I…”

“Stand up.”

She obeyed instantly.

He walked to the left corner and opened a black curtain in the wall and revealed a door. Behind it was his Dom Room. The walls lined with black leather, ropes, canes, shackles, chains, feathers. A high ceiling. A narrow iron bed. A throne. And in the middle of the ceiling hung the chains.

“Go in,” he ordered her.

She stepped inside, with him following behind.

Her eyes widened in anticipation. She had always wanted Hunter to release his wild cravings on her. To dominate and control her in every way possible. But today, he was in a mood and she didn't know what to expect; but she was thrilled nonetheless.

In less than two minutes, she was sitting in the center of the room, her wrists bound above her head, legs wide apart and cuffed to the floor rings. She dangled just slightly, held taut and open. Vulnerable.

Hunter pulled a chair and sat right in front of her. In his hand, he held a small remote-controlled vibrator.

"I'm not going to touch you, and you don’t move," he said. "You don’t speak. You just take it."

He turned the device on and pressed it between her folds.

The first shock of vibration made her cry out.

Her head fell back in pleasure and her eyes closed. She was trying so hard not to make a sound nor say anything, but the moans could not be suppressed totally.

Time ticked slowly. The only sound that could be heard was that coming from the vibrator and her choking moans.

Five minutes. Ten. He did not remove it.

She writhed, sweat coating her skin, mouth open in silent screams as she experienced multiple orgasms.

Fifteen. Twenty minutes.

Tears were now leaking from her eyes. Her body shuddered violently.

“Please….please… no more.”

She came again.

Then again.

And again.

He didn’t stop.

At thirty minutes exactly, he stood, unchained her and fucked her crazy. Without mercy. By the time he was done, she was numb and couldn't feel her legs anymore. But as the cold devil he was, he dismissed her immediately.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Mira was wiping dust off an old bookshelf in their soon-to-be apartment.

“This is cute,” Aria said from the kitchen, holding a box labeled coffee, shame & instant noodles. “Small. But cute.”

The place was a two-bedroom apartment in a quiet district called Willow Trace, about fifteen minutes from the main city. Not too far from The Den.

“Are you sure we can afford this?” Mira asked, eyeing the chipped tiles in the bathroom. “It's not too late to look for another apartment."

“With the rent split, yeah,” Aria said. “Besides, the guy who runs the place is old and half-blind. I told him we were cousins.”

Mira laughed softly. Aria has her ways of handling things.

After the tension of the last few weeks, it was nice to feel some normalcy. The city buzz was always there — loud, charged — but this little space had a strange charm. Two windows faced the garden. The floorboards creaked. There was even a fireplace, though they doubted it worked.

Still, it was theirs.

“You girls really ok with this space? We could look for another one very close to mine,” Hilda called out from where she was surveying the door. She had been reluctant with their idea of finding a new place. Hers was big enough to contain all of them. But she understands that young adults always want to do things for themselves. So the best she could do is make sure they were fine and safe.

“Common Hilda, this is like what….the seventh time today you asked if we really wanted to stay here,” Mira rolled her eyes.

"Well, you can't blame me for playing my big sister roles, can you now? I needed to be rest assured you know.”

“We are fine! We would be fine,” when she saw Hilda Opening her mouth to say something else… “And yes, we would come to you if we ever need anything… Promise.”

Hilda gave a satisfied nod and went back to surveying.

Aria dropped onto the sofa, throwing her arms over the back dramatically.

"God. We need wine."

“No, you need water,” Mira said, tossing her a bottle. “You’re still hungover from two nights ago.” She gave a teasing laughter.

Aria groaned. “Ugh. Don't remind me. What even happened after we left? I vaguely remember throwing up on Bryan.”

"You did. Twice actually."

“Yikes.”

They both laughed.

But then, Aria’s mood shifted.

“I need to tell you something.”

Mira turned.

“My mom called,” Aria said. “Twice, actually. She wants me to come back to New York. She said my dad’s not doing great and... I have unfinished internship work with the firm. You know how my mom can be demanding. They just want me at the company always. My brother is managing everything fine so I don't know why my mom is so adamant on me working in the familys firm.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Mira sat beside her. “You’re going?”

“Just for a while. Maybe a few months. I already told her I wasn’t staying.”

A beat.

“You sure you’ll be okay here alone?” Aria asked.

Mira nodded. “I’ve lived alone before.”

“Not in this city, Mirabella.”

Mira smiled faintly. “I’ll be fine.”

Aria stared at her for a moment. “You’ve been different lately. Since that night at the club. Quiet. I took you there to relax some nerves, but I guess that didn't work.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Uh-huh.”

She didn’t push. Aria was good like that. She knew when to hold space and when to press.

Up in his office, Hunter poured another drink and stared at the camera feed — one that tracked Mira’s new building.

He'd had his men trail her for the longest time.

Soon, his little doll would learn what it meant to belong to the devil. And when she finally broke? He’d be right there to pick up the pieces.

And remake her to destroy her again.

He picked up his ringing phone from the table. He quietly listened to the person at the other end and his face changed from cold to cold steel.

“Uh-huh,” was his only reply before he hung up and dropped the phone on his desk.