Chapter 171: Demon Stalker

Lucius stood motionless in the shadowed corner of the room, watching the little copy with fascination.

Avery sat on the floor with her back against the door, knees drawn to her chest, rocking slightly as tears streamed down her face. She was whispering to herself, broken, desperate words mixed with soft sobs completely unaware that someone else was in the room with her.

He had been here for nearly twenty minutes already.

It wasn’t the first time he had watched her like this. Whether she was laughing with Leitana, or crying alone, he found both sides equally compelling.

Humans were such fascinating, pitiful creatures.

Especially this one.

Avery rocked back and forth, arms wrapped tight around her knees, whispering a lullaby over and over in a cracked, trembling voice.

He liked watching her cry.

There was something beautifully raw about it, the way her shoulders shook, the way her face twisted with real, visceral fear, the way her voice broke when she called out for a dead boy who would never answer. It stirred something in him. Not pity or empathy. Just… fascination.

He had saved her once, when she had tried to end her own life. Not out of mercy but imply because he found her… interesting. And because she belonged to the little star his lord had claimed. Keeping her alive had seemed useful at the time.

Now, as she cried and whispered to an imaginary Leroy, Lucius tilted his head slightly, a small, unreadable smile touching his lips.

So much noise for such a small thing

The door clicked open.

Avery jumped violently, scrambling away from the door on her hands and knees until her back hit the opposite wall. Her eyes were wide with terror.

Ravial stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft, final click. His face was a perfect blank mask, calm, unreadable, the blindfold hiding whatever burned behind it.

Avery’s gaze darted from Ravial to Lucius (who had stepped out of the shadows the moment the door opened) and back again. Her breathing turned into short, panicked gasps.

“L… let me out,” she whispered, voice hoarse from screaming.

Ravial looked at her for a long moment, head tilting slightly.

“What did you see?” he asked, voice perfectly even, almost gentle.

Avery shook her head frantically, pressing herself harder against the wall. “Nothing, I didn’t see anything, please, just let me go…”

“You saw me in the alley,” Ravial continued calmly. “You saw me kill that man.”

Avery’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “Please… I won’t tell anyone I swear Leitana doesn’t need to know just let us leave…”

Ravial took one slow step forward.

Avery tried to run.

She didn’t even make it two feet.

His hand shot out, wrapping around her throat with terrifying precision. He lifted her clean off the ground, toes dangling uselessly in the air. He wasn’t choking her… not yet but the threat was there, heavy and absolute. Her hands flew up to claw at his wrist, eyes wide with pure animal fear.

“You saw too much,” Ravial said calmly, almost conversationally. “That was unfortunate. For you.”

Avery gasped, legs kicking weakly. “Please… don’t… Leitana— she loves you, don’t do this…I won’t tell anyone”

Ravial leaned in closer, his blindfolded face inches from hers.

“You won’t tell anyone,” he agreed softly. “Because you won’t remember.”

Then his voice dropped to a whisper, dark and intimate.

“Close your eyes.”

Before she could scream, he tightened his grip just enough to restrict her air and leaned forward, lips brushing her ear, he murmured ancient words against her ear, the same compulsion he had used on the nurse.

Avery’s eyes widened for one terrified second, then flashed pure white as the power flooded her mind, ripping away the memory of the alley, everything she had witnessed from the window.

Her body went limp.

Ravial released her throat.

Lucius moved instantly, catching her before she could hit the floor. He cradled her unconscious form with surprising care.

Ravial watched the whole thing with detached calm.

“When she wakes,” he said quietly, “make sure the memories are fully gone. They cannot come back. She is part of my little lamb, they share blood. The compulsion may not take as cleanly as it does with others. Watch her closely. If even a fragment returns… kill her.”

Lucius bowed his head. “As you command, my lord.”

Ravial turned toward the door, pausing only long enough to glance back at Avery’s unconscious face then turned and left the room without another word.

Lucius carried Avery to the bed and laid her down gently. He sat on the edge, staring at her tear-streaked face with that same quiet, unhinged fascination.

For weeks he had been watching her.

He had seen her visit Matteo’s cabin more than once. He had seen the way she smiled at him, the way she let him hold her, the way she sought comfort in another man’s arms.

It displeased him and made something dark and possessive stir in his chest.

“So fragile,” he murmured to the empty room. “So loud when you break.”

He kept stroking her cheek with clinical tenderness.

He would wait until she woke up and then he would make sure she remembered only what was allowed.

If even one unwanted memory slipped through… he would be forced to silence her permanently.

“LET ME OUT OF HERE!”

Charles Hale’s voice echoed off the concrete walls of the dark basement, raw and furious. He strained violently against the thick ropes binding him to the heavy metal chair, the wood creaking under his weight.

“You bastards! Do you know who I am?! I will have every single one of you hunted down and skinned alive! Let me go right now!”

The two men standing guard against the far wall didn’t move. They didn’t speak, they simply watched him with blank, professional expressions, hands clasped behind their backs like statues.

Charles spat on the floor, face purple with rage. “You think this scares me? You think Ravial Ashbourne is untouchable? I’ll bury that blindfolded freak and his little whore of a wife! I’ll burn this entire fucking estate to the ground! LET ME GO!”

He thrashed again, the chair scraping loudly against the concrete.“I have rights! I have the right to discipline my own wife and daughters! That little bitch Leitana and her whore sister deserve every slap they get! Let me go, you fucking cowards!”

The door opened with a slow creak.

Ravial stepped inside.

The temperature in the basement seemed to drop several degrees.

Charles’s tirade cut off mid-sentence as he locked eyes with the man who had just entered. For the first time since he’d been dragged down here, real fear flickered across his face but quickly masked by arrogance.

Ravial walked forward until he stood directly in front of the bound man. He looked down at Charles with perfect, emotionless calm, hands clasped loosely behind his back.

Charles sneered, trying to regain control. “You have no right to do this, Ashbourne. She is my wife. They are my daughters. I can hit them as hard as I want. It’s my family. My business. You think you can play god in your little castle and keep me prisoner? Let me go right now or I swear…”

Ravial tilted his head slightly, voice soft, almost polite.

“You can hit them as hard as you want?” he repeated, as if tasting the words. “Interesting.”

Ravial’s hand shot out.

He grabbed Charles by the jaw, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, forcing the man’s mouth shut mid-sentence.

“I watched you put your hand on my wife’s face today,” Ravial continued, tone still eerily calm. “I watched you leave a mark on what belongs to me. Do you know what I wanted to do to you in that moment?”

Charles’s eyes widened, a flicker of real fear breaking through the arrogance.

Ravial leaned in closer, his grip tightening until Charles’s jaw creaked.

“I wanted to peel the skin from your body while you were still breathing,” Ravial said darkly. “I wanted to break every bone in your hands so you could never touch anything again and make you watch while I fed your tongue to the dogs for daring to speak to her the way you did.”

He leaned down until his blindfolded face was inches from Charles’s.

“But my lamb asked me not to kill you,” he whispered. “I’m going to be generous.”

He released Charles’s jaw with a small push that snapped the man’s head back.

Then he turned his head to the side. One of the men who had followed him in rushed forward, stretching out his hand to reveal a thick stack of documents.

Charles’s eyes narrowed, sweat already beading on his forehead despite the cool basement air.

“What’s that?” he stuttered out.

Ravial’s lips lifted into a tiny, razor-sharp smirk.

“These, my dear father-in-law, are transfer of ownership papers.”

Charles blinked, confusion cutting through his fear for a moment. “What?”

Ravial took the documents and flipped through them slowly, almost lazily, as if they were in a business meeting.

“Everything you own, the companies, the properties, the offshore accounts, the shares, the houses, the cars, even that ugly yacht you keep in Monaco, every single cent in your name will be signed over today to your wife Alyssa and your daughter Avery. Equally.”

Charles’s face went from red to ghostly white in seconds.

“You… you can’t do that,” he choked out, voice rising. “That’s my life’s work! My money! You have no right….”

“Oh, I can,” Ravial said calmly, flipping another page. “And I already have. The signatures are ready for you. All you need to do is sign. My lawyers have made everything airtight. Once it’s done, you will be penniless. A broke, broken man with nothing left but the clothes on your back… and whatever we decide to leave you with.”

Charles started struggling against the ropes again, eyes wild. “No! No, you can’t! I built that empire! You think I’m going to sign my life away to that weak bitch and her whore daughter? Never!”

Ravial’s smirk widened, slow and dangerous, showing too many teeth.

“That’s not all.”

He set the documents down on a small metal table beside the chair and pulled out his phone, tapping the screen once. A video file began playing, grainy security footage mixed with crisp documents and bank records.

“Every shady deal you’ve ever made has already been sent to the FBI. Embezzlement. Fraud. Money laundering. The three murders you ordered last year in Chicago. The bribes to judges. The shell companies in the Caymans. All of it. They’re opening a file on you as we speak.”

Charles looked sick to his stomach, face turning a sickly green. “You’re bluffing.”

“I don’t bluff,” Ravial said softly. “And to make sure they have everything they need, you’re going to record a full confession. Right now. You’re going to admit that you ordered the murder of Leroy Foster and that you’re currently holding his younger brother Mathew prisoner. You’re going to name every person you paid, every threat you made, every dirty secret you’ve buried. And you’re going to do it on camera, looking straight into the lens like the arrogant piece of shit you are.”

Charles’s breathing turned ragged. “No. I won’t. You can’t make me…”

Ravial leaned down again, voice dropping to a chilling whisper.

“I know you’ll say that. “That’s why I came prepared with a little… compulsion.”

He pointed to the far side of the dimly lit basement.

A small metal trolley had been wheeled in while Charles was screaming. On it sat a syringe filled with a clear liquid, several vials, and a set of electrodes connected to a compact machine.

Charles’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what it was.

“Compulsion through chemistry,” Ravial explained casually. “A little cocktail my people perfected. It won’t just make you talk. It will make you want to talk. You’ll feel an overwhelming need to confess everything. Every dirty detail. And you won’t be able to stop yourself. The beauty of it is… you’ll remember every word you say. You’ll know you’re destroying yourself, and you won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.”

Charles started shaking his head frantically. “You’re insane… you’re a fucking monster…”

Ravial grinned then, all teeth, wide and feral, the expression so unhinged.

“Yes,” he said simply. “I am.”

He straightened up and nodded to one of the men.

“Prepare him.”

Charles began screaming again as the guards moved forward, but Ravial was already walking toward the door, calm and unhurried.

“Make the video clean and complete,” he said over his shoul

der. “I want the FBI to have no doubts when they receive it tomorrow morning.”

The door closed behind him with a soft, final click.

Charles’s screams echoed through the basement long after Ravial had gone.