Chapter 3: The Devil's Name
Morning came without warmth.
Grey light filtered through tall, unfamiliar
windows, casting long shadows across a room
that was far too luxurious to be kind. Silk
curtains. A massive bed draped in black sheets.
Gold accents everywhere-cold, polished,
intimidating.
This was not a home.
This was a cage.
I sat up slowly, my body stiff, my chest tight as
memories of last night crashed back into me.
The rain. The contract. The man whose eyes held
no mercy.
My husband.
The word felt poisonous in my mind.
Before I could process it, the door opened.
Two women entered, both dressed in black
uniforms.Their expressions were neutral-trained, emotionless.
"Get up," one of them said. Not unkindly. Not
gently either.
"Where am I?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
"The Blackthorne Estate" the other replied. "You
are to be prepared."
Prepared.
For what? | wanted to ask, but something told
me questions were useless here.
They dressed me in a simple black gown-no
jewelry, no shoes with heels, nothing that made
me feel powerful or pretty. My hair was brushed
and left loose down my back, like an offering.
When they were done, one of them opened the
door.
"He's waiting."
My heart dropped.
Each step down the long corridor felt heavier
than the last. The walls were lined with old
portraits-men with sharp eyes and cruel
mouths. Power radiated from the place, thick and
suffocating.
We stopped in front of double doors.
They opened.
He stood by the window, his back to me, hands
clasped behind him. Daylight did nothing to
soften him. If anything, it made him look more
unreal-tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a
perfectly tailored black suit.
I swallowed.
"You slept" he said calmly. "Good."
I said nothing.
He turned slowly.
Up close, he was worse. The sharp jaw. The faint scar near his lip. Eyes
bottomless.
"I dislike repeating myself," he continued. "So
listen carefully."
I lifted my chin, forcing myself not to tremble.
"My name is Lucien Blackthorne"
The name carried weight. Authority. Fear.
"In this house" he said, stepping closer, "you will
follow three rules."
He raised one finger.
"First-obedience. You do not leave this estate
without my permission."
A second finger.
"Second-silence. You do not speak to the press,
outsiders, or your former life."
Then the third.
"And lastly-do not fall in love with me."
I stared at him, stunned.
Was that a joke?
"I didn't marry you for affection" Lucien said
coldly. "l married you because your father owed
me. You are payment. Nothing more."
His words cut deep-but I refused to let him see
it.
"I understand," I said quietly.
Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise?
Interest?
"Good,"' he said. "Because if you break any of
these rules..."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping.
". will destroy everything you love."
Silence filled the room.
Then, without another word, he turned and
walked away.
Doors closed behind him with a final echoing thud.
I stood there long after he was gone, my hands
clenched into fists.
He thought he owned me.
My name. My freedom. My future.
But as fear wrapped around my heart, something
else stirred beneath it.
Defiance.
They may have sold my life.
But they did not sell my soul.
And one day-
Lucien Blackthorne would learn that.