Chapter 5: A Deal With The Devil

I was still reeling on the floor, my palms damp with tears, in my worst situation. I sensed someone entering the room. His presence tells it all even before I saw him.

His shadow stretched across the room, standing tall before me. The first thing I noticed was the strap of his boots, polished to a cold gleam. Then his scent, dark, expensive and intoxicated, flooded my lungs. He didn’t simply walk into the room. His presence arrived like he had always been here, waiting for me to notice.

Nathan.

My heart stumbled as I held still on the floor. I didn't expect him to catch me in this weak state. Or am I in trouble?

He noticed my tears and burning cheeks. “You’re lost in thought,” he said, his voice smooth as silk but edged with steel. His hands slid casually into his pockets. This is my first time seeing him care for any of the staff. No, or maybe he wants to find out something from me.

“I’m fine,” I lied, wiping my damp cheeks as I scrambled to my feet,t jittering. His eyes drifted over me slowly, assessing and stripping me bare without even touching me.

“You’re not fine,” he murmured. “And you’re terrible at lying.” The words cracked through me. I staggered, gripping the handle of the wardrobe behind me for balance.

“I’m fine, sir.”

“No, you look shattered,” He corrected, stepping closer. The scent of his cologne wrapped around me, to a point I struggled to breathe.

“Lies get people hurt in this house. He warned, trying to get a glimpse of my terrified face. “So tell me the truth this time. Why are you here and not on your duty post?” he enquired again, and this time his burning eyes drilled through me.

I tried to turn away, but he closed the distance. His body pressed closer. I pinned myself to the wall. My heart hammered against my ribs as something inside me hungered for his touch, and the other wished I would push him away and run. Finally, I summoned the courage to resist him.

“Sir, maybe I should stop thinking, because right now all I can feel is how close you are.” I managed to speak.

His eyes roamed over me with a slow hunger, claiming me without permission. He knew I was bothered, and he understood my fear of not telling him.

“Your mother is sick, isn’t she?” he asked.

The question hit me like a slap. Who told him? My chest constricted.

“How do you know, Sir?” I asked curiously.

“I know everything about people under my roof,” he said coldly. “So yours will not be different.”

I wondered why the man I thought could wreck me suddenly started caring. He is rumoured to be ruthless, one who can pull one into depression at the snap of his words. Why is he suddenly acting like he cares? I was very curious and anxious. I replied to him again. “Why do you care?” I whispered, though my voice betrayed the trembling in my chest.

To my surprise, he leaned closer, his breath brushing against my skin, warm, heavy and dangerous as my pulse roared.

He murmured closely to my ears. “I have a good use for you.” Then, stepping back, his command lashed like a whip.

“Follow me.”

—

We headed to his room. The air inside his chambers clung heavy, thick with leather. He leaned against the edge of his desk, one hand wrapped lazily around a glass of amber liquid, but nothing about his presence felt lazy. I stood there literally like a lost sheep.

“Tomorrow night,” he said, lifting the glass and taking a measured sip. “There’s a party at the Dons’ estate. The kind where champagne costs more than a car, and where one wrong step can strip you bare.”

My hands trembled at my sides. A party? I barely belonged in this house, let alone being among men and women who could ruin nations with just a whisper. Why is he telling me this? How do I belong to such a circle?

He continued, “I want you there,” his gaze carving into me.

I swallowed hard. “At a party?”

He set the glass down slowly, deliberately, its crystal striking with a sound that felt like a verdict. “ Yes! My ex will be there. She’s engaged now, to a man I despise so much.” His lips curved into something close to a smile as he spoke with memories. “ So I want her to see me with another woman. I want her to see me winning. And that person will be you.”

My pulse spiked. “Me?”

He moved, pushing off the desk, crossing the space between us with the kind of calm that made the room shrink. He didn’t just walk—he prowled. By the time I blinked, my back was against the wall again, and this time his shadow was blotting out the firelight.

“Listen, you’ll be my girlfriend for the night,” he said, with his voice low and lethal. “I’ll make you impossible to ignore—dressed like royalty, beautiful enough to command the room.”

My throat closed. My chest burned. Every nerve screamed at me to push him away, but something hotter—something I hated—thrummed beneath my skin at the way his eyes consumed me.

“And why,” I whispered, barely able to breathe, “Why would I agree to that?” I was terrified.

Nathan leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. His breath was whisky-warm, dark and magnetic. I wondered why he chose me, a maid with nothing to represent as his fake girlfriend for the party. What is Nathan up to this time?

“In exchange,” he murmured, “I’ll pay for your mother’s treatment. Every bill. Every medicine. Whatever it takes to keep her alive. Just deliver your role and get paid.” his tone oozes so much authority.

The world tilted violently around me. My heart crashed against my ribs, loud enough that he must have heard it.

I knew this wasn’t kindness. It was shackles. He was twisting my mother’s pain into a chain I couldn't resist and wrapping it around my neck.

My mother's frailty flashed across my mind. I saw her weak eyes glazed with exhaustion. I heard the rasp of her lungs and the way she whispered my name between gasps. If I refused him, I wasn’t just saying no. I was digging my mother's grave with my own hands.

“This isn’t kindness,” Nathan said, pulling back just enough for his eyes to meet mine. “It’s business. You give me what I want, or you bury your mother. The ball is in your court.”

Tears stung the edges of my vision, but I refused to let them fall. His gaze pinned me like a knife through glass, waiting for me to shatter.

Finally, with my soul torn in half, I whispered, “I’ll do it.”

His mouth curved not into a smile, but something sharper and dangerous. “Good. Tomorrow night, you’ll stop being a maid just for one night. You’ll be mine.”

He turned, reclaiming his glass with effortless authority.

“This conversation was over. You may leave now,” he commanded.