Chapter 14
Baiting the Devil
Enzo was tied to a chair in the war room, blood drying on his lips. It wasn’t really a punishment; more like a reminder of where he stood.
Damian loomed over him, silent and unreadable. He hadn’t said a word since the door slammed shut. I stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching them both like a queen at an execution.
“Say it,” Damian finally commanded.
Enzo lifted his gaze. “Lucien wants a shipment reroute. He’s planning a fake takedown next week. He needs me to confirm when your truck leaves the port.”
Damian didn’t even blink. “And what’s in it for you?”
“He promised to wipe my sister’s debt. Her husband owed him before she died, and he’s still holding it over her grave.”
I flinched but kept quiet. Damian stepped back, his fingers twitching.
“We’ll give him what he wants,” he said. “A shipment, but not the real one. Just enough to keep him interested. He’ll think he’s winning.”
I stepped forward, locking eyes with Enzo. You’ll tell him exactly what we discussed no improvising, no second chances.
“Got it,” Enzo nodded.
And if he suspects anything? “Then I die.”
Three days later, the trap was set. I stood next to Damian on the rooftop of his warehouses, watching over the docks. The sky was dark and heavy with rain.
Below, trucks rolled in a staggered line two filled with decoys and one packed with encrypted GPS tech meant to trigger a false alarm if tampered with. Enzo had given us the heads-up that morning.
Everything was in motion.
“Lucien’s too careful to show up himself,” Damian muttered, scanning the shadows with his binoculars. “But he’ll send someone important.”
I didn’t reply; I was focused on the monitors, nerves on edge. I was done sitting in the dark, done being tossed around like a pawn in their games.
This time, I wanted to face the monster myself.
“You’re thinking too loud again,” Damian said.
I smirked, picturing how poetic it’d be if his greatest enemy was taken down by his own wife.
He lowered his binoculars and met my gaze. “I don’t doubt it.”
Then, the plan fell apart exactly twenty minutes later. First, Enzo’s comms went dead. Then the decoy truck at dock 4 exploded.
“Something’s wrong,” Vera’s voice crackled through the earpiece.
“What do you mean?” I stiffened next to Damian.
“The courier just handed Enzo a burner phone. He wants to talk to you.”
I could hear someone wailing in the distance, but it felt too far away to help. Panic started bubbling up inside me. “He moved early,” I blurted out.
Damian turned to me, his expression sharp. “He means you.”
Before I could say anything back, Enzo’s phone buzzed once. He hesitated for a moment but then lifted it to his ear.
Lucien’s voice came through, smooth like silk but laced with poison. “Hello, little bride. You’ve been busy, huh? You really think you can outsmart me? I taught your husband everything he knows.”
I felt my hands tense into fists.
“You were never meant for his world. You belong to the ghosts. Just like your father, just like your mother.”
Then the line went dead.
Damian ripped the headset off and shouted into the comms, “Pull Enzo out now!”
But Vera’s voice sliced through, sharp and urgent. “Too late. Shots fired.”
My heart sank as I watched Enzo hit the ground, blood spreading across his chest.
“No!” I screamed.
Damian grabbed me, pulling me toward the window.
The second explosion hit, shaking the yard even more violently. “We’re leaving. Now!” he urged, gripping my wrist tightly.
Enzo was the only one Lucien trusted; he wasn’t supposed to die.
“He made his choice the moment he decided to play both sides,” Damian growled.
Tears filled my eyes. You used him, just like you used me.
He cupped my face, his grip firm. “I didn’t use you, Claire. I saved you again. And I’ll keep doing it as many times as it takes.”
I pushed him away. “I don’t want saving; I want justice!”
Back at the penthouse, I found myself in Damian’s study, unwrapping the USB that Marina had given me.
The smoke still clung to my skin, a reminder of what just happened. Damian was busy cleaning up the mess from the ambush, but I needed the truth right then.
One by one, the files, decrypted on my screen. I saw photos, transactions, and then a video clip. I clicked it, and my father’s voice made me gasp.
He was sitting in a boardroom, looking disheveled. There was a blurry figure behind him, but I recognized Lucien standing there with a gun.
“You don’t have to do this,” my father pleaded.
“You should’ve taken the deal. You sold your daughter to the wrong devil.”
Then the screen went blank. I was frozen, unable to move. It felt like my lungs had stopped working. The cold realization hit me like a snake wrapping around me.
My father had tried to protect me, but someone else had sold me to Damian. Not as a savior, but as part of a bargain. A contract.
One last file opened: the marriage contract between Domain Cross and Claire Marco.
It was signed and stamped.
And there was a clause I’d never seen before. “In the event of Marco’s death, all owed debts transfer to Claire Marco unless otherwise absorbed by the spouse.”
My blood ran cold. I wasn’t just a bride; I was a debt.
A beautiful, living payment.