by King, Bella
I place my hand on the bookshelf, a trick so classic and well-known that I first thought it stupid to implement, but with some added security features, it works out quite well.
I pull out a book, place my finger on the fingerprint scanner stuck to the back of it, and the whole shelf begins to spin around.
I reach back to Zella, pulling her next to me as the shelf slowly spins around into the hallway leading to the living quarters. Her body is hot, almost as hot as the flames in the initiation hall, and I enjoy the warmth of her as I press the side of her body against mine.
She’s going to be a nice treat for me when all things are said and done.
Chapter Nineteen
Zella
“This is my bedroom,” Diavolo says, waving a hand across the air in front of us as we stand in the doorway. “My bed is there, but you will have your own little place to sleep tonight.”
My heart hammers in my chest, most of the blood having returned to my body. Whatever that drink he gave me was, it worked. I feel so much better than when we left the stage at the initiation.
But that’s just the physical side of things. Inside, my emotions have twisted my stomach tight, and my throat is sore from the tension. Diavolo is either toying with me, or he genuinely believes that I’m here to serve him. The prospect of either is terrifying.
My eyes take in the room. There’s a large bed with black silk sheets on in. Beneath it lays a thick white rug that looks comfortable enough to sleep on. The floor is made of polished redwood, and the walls are decorated with classical paintings from the Renaissance period. They appear to be originals.
“Are those real?” I ask, staring at one in particular that looks like it could’ve been snatched straight out of a museum.
Diavolo chuckles. “They’ll all real,” he says, stepping into the room with his hand still clutching my shoulder. “I bought them from a collector in France.”
I can only imagine how expensive that must’ve been. At least some of the money made from Black Sugar is going toward something admirable. I’m a sucker for good art, especially the classics.
Unfortunately, I’m unable to stand in the doorway appreciating Diavolo’s taste in art for very long before he yanks me into the room and slams the door shut. My mood changes from awe to fear in an instant.
“Let me show you your bed,” he says, grabbing my uninjured arm by the wrist and pulling me toward the corner of the room hidden by the bedframe.
His grip is like steel, and my body is pitifully frail compared to his dense and muscular physique. He’s easily able to drag me across the room without so much as quickening his breath.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere while I’m sleeping, so you will have to occupy the pit,” he explains.
When we come around the bed to the corner of the room, there isn’t anything there. For a moment, I think he must be joking, but I soon discover that the Devil’s Kingdom has more trapdoors and secret passages than a horror movie castle.
With his large hand still gripping my wrist tightly, Diavolo pulls open a latch on the floor, raising up the floorboards to reveal a small compartment with a few guns and a bottle that looks more like poison than alcohol.
“Excuse the mess,” he says, snatching the guns up in one hand and tossing them on the bed one at a time. “It’s a bit dusty, but I think you’ll fit.”
“You want me to sleep in there?” I ask, staring down at the little concrete space that barely seems large enough for half a person, much less my entire body.
“Of course,” Diavolo replies. “I like to keep my assistants close to me.”
This is mad, but judging by the wicked look in Diavolo’s eyes, he gets some sort of morbid excitement from doing this to me. If this is what he put his former assistant through, then it’s no wonder she’s dead.
I look at Diavolo, searching his face for some sign that he knows who I am. Perhaps this is his punishment, or maybe it really is how he treats every other assistant he’s had. “Have I done something wrong?” I ask.
“Not at all,” he replies, a smile flickering across his lips. “If you had done something wrong, you’d be sleeping in a black trash bag somewhere on the ocean floor.”
I swallow hard, turning my head back toward the hole in the ground that I’m expected to cram myself into. Considering the alternative, I shouldn’t argue too much about sleeping here. If it furthers my mission, then it must be done.
I step toward my tiny sleeping area, but Diavolo holds me back, his fingers digging harder into my wrist. “Not yet, my dear,” he whispers.
My blood runs cold, and the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up at his gentle but ominous words. What else could this monster of a man possibly have in store for me? I think I’ve suffered enough under his hand already.
“Clean yourself in the bathroom. Tonight, I will give you one of my robes to wear, but tomorrow you will have something proper,” Diavolo says, pulling me away from the hole in the ground.
I breathe out a sigh of relief. I thought he was going to have me do something painful or humiliating for him. Even though it was a bit exciting stripping down nude in front of him before, I’m not sure that I want to do it in the privacy of the bedroom. It would only lead to one thing.
Diavolo takes me to the bathroom, opening the door and allowing me to step inside. He smiles at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he closes the door quietly. It’s unsettling, but I’ll take that over real danger any day of the week.
As soon as the door clicks closed, I lock it behind me, letting out another sigh, much deeper this time. I’ve infiltrated the Devil’s Kingdom, something I’ve been trying to do for years. The first step of my plan is complete.
I remove my clothes, wincing from the burn on my arm and the crusted scab on the back of my hand. That symbol was taken from Diavolo’s assistant. When he told me about the square being cut from the back of her hand, I was certain that’s where my mysterious package came from.
But if it wasn’t him who cut it off himself to trick me into coming here, then who else could it have been? That mystery will continue to trouble me until I find out. At this point, I don’t know whether to thank the unknown deliverer or to curse them for bringing me here.
I’m left in limbo between the two ideas, putting them on the backburner and focusing on the moment instead as I remove my clothes and step into the shower.
Diavolo’s room is large, and the bathroom is no different. The shower itself could probably fit a whole party of people, and the tiles look like they were carved individually from exotic stones. He spares no expense in his dwelling, but that’s to be expected from a man worth billions of dollars.
I’d admire his business expertise if not for the fact that he made all his money from selling highly addictive drugs to innocent people. Black Sugar has exploded in popularity, but it also has a way of twisting users into desperate skeletons of their former selves, obsessed only with getting their next buzz from the substance.
I avoid getting my damaged arm under the hot stream of water falling from the ceiling like rain, but I cup water in my other hand to gently rinse the dried blood from my skin. All this better be worth the agony I’ve been through.
Diavolo has only one bar of soap in the bathroom, and it’s pitch black, just like the drugs that he manufactures. I grab it and hold it up to my nose, inhaling its deep musky scent. I’m blown away by how good it smells, almost unearthly in its power to relax me. I melt into the hot water as I take another deep breath in, enjoying the scent that mirrors how Diavolo smells.
I close my eyes, taking yet another deep breath before I snap out of my daze and open my eyes. Jesus, what the hell am I doing? Diavolo is the reason Olesya is gone, and I’m going to sniff his soap like some kind of pervert?
I put the soap down, forgoing the option to lather myself up in his sultry scent. I can use the shampoo, and hopefully, it won’t lead to me growing wet between my legs. I’m shocked at myself that I would even
enjoy anything about a man as evil as Diavolo, but perhaps it’s just my blood-deprived brain telling me that this is okay.
I finish up the rest of my shower quickly, toweling myself off with a black towel before stepping toward the door to unlock it.
As soon as I turn the lock, the door flies open.
Chapter Twenty
Diavolo
I’m tempted to have her sleep naked, but it wouldn’t serve me well to damage her soft skin any more than I already have. I hand her a black robe, like the ones the others were wearing during initiation, and allow her the privacy to get dressed.
I’m not even sure if Zella will fit in the little space under the floor, but it’s worth a try. I don’t have anywhere else to put her with such short notice, and I rather like the idea of testing her limits. There’s something arousing about having power over such an attractive woman.
“I’m ready,” Zella says from behind me.
I turn around to see her cheeks glowing pink with warmth from the shower. She looks so soft that I’m tempted to use her as my mattress tonight. I’m sure I would just sink right in, probably far enough to drown in her curves. I wouldn’t mind dying that way.
“You should take the contacts out before bed,” I say, noticing that she’s still trying to hide her bright blue eyes under those dull, uninteresting contacts.
She recoils, clearly surprised that I’ve noticed, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she pops out the contacts, cupping them in her small hands.
“Give them to me,” I say, holding out my hand.
She drops the flimsy brown lenses into my palm, and I turn around and toss them straight into the little black bin next to my bed. “You won’t be needing these anymore,” I say.
When I turn back to her, she’s looking down at her feet, her little pink toenails wiggling against the hardwood floor. She looks even cuter when she’s shy and tired, but I don’t want to let my feelings get the best of me. I’ve never entertained loving a woman, and I won’t be starting with Zella. She might play all innocent and obedient, but she’s trouble if I ever saw it.
“This is mostly for your own safety,” I say as I take Zella’s warm hand and lead her to the corner again. I stop in front of the hole. “I tend to shoot people who surprise me at night. You can never be too careful.”
She refuses to speak, but I know what she’s thinking. She doesn’t want to go in the hole, but she has no other choice. Perhaps I’ll find her some better accommodations tomorrow night, but for now, she’ll have to accept what I have provided for her.
“I’m actually kind of curious if you’ll even fit,” I say as she steps down into the hole.
She crouches down. “I don’t think I will.”
I chuckle. “You haven’t even tried.”
She frowns, laying down on her side and curling herself up into a ball. Her shoulder juts out of the hole by an inch, but I’m pretty sure that with a little pressure, I can close her in.
“Sleep tight,” I say, quickly closing the lid before she can jump out. I press it down hard against her, sliding a silver lock into place to keep her in. With a small click, she’s secure for the night.
I stand up straight, dusting my hands off and smiling to myself. I’m one evil bastard, and I know it, but Zella should know better than to come here trying to play games with me. She should’ve continued her life outside of the Devil’s Kingdom. She would’ve been better off.
Surprisingly, Zella doesn’t make any noise of protest from inside the hole, choosing to submit to my command and stay quiet while I get undressed and prepare for bed.
She’s an interesting woman, not all that different from Olesya, but she seems to be more obedient. I recall Olesya being a little more hardheaded, but then again, I didn’t really know her all that well. We weren’t involved, but I do remember her being one of the ones who disappeared on that ship five years ago.
I’ll need to investigate the recent cargo ship disappearance too, but before that, I need to deal with Zella. I must know why she’s here, but I don’t want to ask her directly. She still doesn’t know that I’m aware of who she is, and I’d like to have a bit of fun with that. I’m the puppet master, and I’ve tied her up with little invisible strings for my entertainment.
Chapter Twenty-One
Zella
Light floods into my eyes, but I’m quickly shrouded in shadow by a large figure above me. I blink my eyes, taking in the sight of Diavolo in nothing but a pair of black silk boxers.
“Good morning,” he purrs, reaching his hand in and pulling me up.
I wince as my body unravels from the tight space, cramped in a number of places from not being able to move all night. I feel like shit, but I suppose that’s to be expected.
With how exhausted I was last night, I fell asleep rather quickly once Diavolo locked me under his floorboards. It was cramped, and now my back is sore, but I barely feel that with how much my arm is hurting. I should’ve brought something to ease the pain.
I rub my eyes, stepping out of the hole and allowing my muscles to uncramp in the open space of the room.
“Take these,” Diavolo says, thrusting a fistful of blue pills out to me.
“What are they?” I ask, taking them in my hand and looking down at them through bleary eyes.
He laughs. “Nothing dangerous. I figured you’d be in pain from last night.”
“I am,” I reply, throwing back the pills without care. If he’s trying to kill me, there are easier ways to do it.
“Wait for the water,” Diavolo says, rushing to the bathroom to grab a cup.
I’ve already swallowed the pills with the thick morning saliva in my mouth by the time he returns. I still take the water, chugging it down to wash the pills into my stomach and clear the stress-induced dryness that’s found its home in my mouth overnight.
“I have something for you,” Diavolo says, a look of excitement in his eyes.
What could it be this time? It can’t be worse than anything he’s already given me.
He turns, moving toward the closet with a confident swagger. For the first time, I get to see his back. It’s filled with black ink – intricate designs of devils and demons hopping around on top of a pentagram. He’s an odd motherfucker, if nothing else, but he’s undeniably handsome as well.
I almost forget what I’m here to do as I admire his broad back. I know he’s suspicious of me, but that could change if I play my cards right. I have to get him in a vulnerable position. He needs to trust me.
“How do you like it?” Diavolo turns around, holding the skimpiest maid outfit I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
I tilt my head down, looking at him with wide eyes and trying not to laugh. “Is that supposed to cover me?”
“Not really,” he replies, bringing it closer. “The lace is kind of see-through, but you showed no hesitation getting naked for me during the initiation last night, so I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
I snatch the flimsy outfit out of his hands, frowning as I look it over. He must be out of his mind if he thinks I’d be comfortable wearing something like this, but at the same time, this might just be the thing that pushes him over the edge and gets him to fall into my trap. After all, the fine art of seduction has brought powerful men down throughout history, and as we all know…
History repeats itself.
I hold the outfit against myself, faking a smile. “Maybe it’s too conservative,” I tease.
He chuckles. “You’d be too cold if you were nude.”
I’ll be cold either way, but I play along. “Are there any shoes to go with it?”
“Oh, right,” he says, spinning back around and hurrying to the closet.
I crack a genuine smile at the odd innocence and excitement he’s displaying while giving me a humiliatingly small outfit to wear to work. I look down at it again. The lace doesn’t even begin to cover anything, and even folded over itself, I can see through the layers of fabric to my hands very clearly underneath.
>
I shake my head at the notion of wearing this all day, but perhaps it’ll be a nice change from having to layer myself in tight black clothing every day for years. At least with this, I get to have a little fun while I’m doing business.
I drop my robe as Diavolo comes back with a pair of glossy black high heels. He’s wearing an arrogant grin on his face, which I suppress the urge to slap off when he hands me the shoes. “Thank you,” I say instead.
“You’re very welcome. I think I’m going to enjoy having you as my new assistant,” Diavolo says.
“What’s my first line of duty?” I ask as I put on the skimpy lace maid outfit.
He raises an eyebrow, still smirking like crazy. “Cleaning, and then we’re going on a little trip down to the shipyard.”
The shipyard? That sounds interesting, but I hope I won’t have to wear this outfit out there too. I’ll freeze my little ass cheeks off in a second flat.
I take the high heels from Diavolo and sit down on the bed to put them on. The mattress is soft and foamy, but it has a good bounce to it. I’m inclined to think that this was on purpose, but I brush the filthy thought from my mind and focus on putting on my shoes. I’m sure the day ahead of me will be long and difficult.
I look up at Diavolo as I sleep on one of my heels. He’s stepping into his pants, pulling them high up on his narrow hips, the fabric moving like liquid over the backs of his thighs and his buttocks. He’s in terrific shape, and I can’t help but admire his body as he gets dressed. He’s been doing the same to me, so it’s only fair.
His back is twice the breadth of mine, extending further as he puts his arms through his shirt and begins to button it. I’m sure it’s tailored specifically to his body, but the fabric still pulls from the amount of muscle flexing in his back. He’s not going to be an easy target.
I avert my gaze quickly when he turns around, quickly putting on my other high heel and standing up from the bed.