Chapter 9 The Devil Wears No Mask

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The shrill, steady rhythm of the ECG machine dragged Seraphina back from the abyss.

Her lashes fluttered, heavy like bricks. Her tongue was dry, her throat raw, and her entire body throbbed like it had been used as a punching bag by hell itself.

The ceiling above her was black - too dark. And sterile.

But something was wrong.

"Isn't this a hospital? Whats with the black ceiling?" She thought. The room was quiet. Too quiet. No doctors rushing by. No beeping machines save the one beside her. The air smelled of medicine, yes - but also of leather, and something darker.

Groaning softly, Seraphina shifted.

Pain.

Hot, stabbing, excruciating pain sliced across her side, tearing a hiss from her chapped lips. Her hand twitched and she glanced down at the IV drip in her arm. A long, thin tube pumping whatever medication they thought she needed.

Where... was she?

A panic flickered to life deep inside her gut. "Where am I?" she whispered to no one in particular.

Then it hit her - the memory crashed in, uninvited and brutal.

The rooftop. The gunfire. The blood. Nate-

"Nate!" she gasped, eyes wide with horror. "Nate-!" she looked around frantically. "Mom? Dad?!"

The silence only made her heart race faster.

With trembling fingers, she reached to rip the IV out of her arm.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The voice was smooth. Cold. Dominant. Like velvet sheathed over a blade.

Seraphina froze.

Slowly, she turned her head toward the source of the voice.

From the shadows, he emerged.

A tall figure in a grey shirt-half unbuttoned, revealing taut muscle and an intricate black tattoo that snaked from his collarbone to his neck. His black pants were fitted, his belt glinting silver. He looked sculpted. Like someone carved him with sin in mind.

Seraphina's breath caught.

There was something about him-something that made the air feel heavier. Like he owned this space. This building. This moment. And maybe... her.

"Who... who are you?" she asked, voice weak but defiant, "What do you want from me? Where is Nate? Where are my parents?"

He stopped at the foot of the bed, "Too many questions. I'll give only one answer." He paused as he tucked his two hands into his pockets. "I'm Dante," he said with a devilish smile.

Her heart stopped.

Dante.

Her blood ran cold. "D-Dante?" she stammered, Na- Navarro?"

He raised a brow, clearly amused by her reaction. "You say my name like it's folklore. Did my reputation precede me?"

Seraphina stared, unwilling to speak, unwilling to show fear-but every nerve in her body screamed in warning.

"You're quite interesting," Dante mused, tilting his head as he took a slow step closer, now directly near her. "You didn't flinch. That's rare. Even the strongest men beg when they realize who I am."

"Why would I flinch," Seraphina muttered, "when I'm already in hell?"

Dante chuckled softly. "Touché."

Then, without warning-she spat at him. The glob of saliva landed squarely on his cheek.

He stilled.

Her chest heaved with rage. "You killed him!" she spat. "You killed Nate! Your own nephew! You're a monster-how could you-?"

Before she could finish, Dante moved like lightning.

His hand clamped around her throat, squeezing-not enough to kill, but enough to burn.

Her back arched against the bed. Her fingers clawed at his wrist.

"You have the audacity..." he hissed, wiping the spit from his cheek with his free hand. "To wake up from a week of being utterly useless and dare speak his name before mine?"

Seraphina gasped for air, her voice hoarse. "L-Let... go..."

Dante leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear.

"Nate was a traitor. A thief. A liar. And he died the moment he thought he could take what was mine. In my line of work, there is no mercy for traitors."

He released her.

She collapsed back on the bed, coughing and choking as her lungs begged for oxygen.

Dante stepped back, calm again.

"That's better," he said. "Fear looks good on you."

Seraphina's hand clutched her neck, tears blurring her vision.

He turned toward a nearby table and picked up a sleek black tablet.

As he swiped across the screen, he said, almost casually, "You're not the first to challenge me. But you might be the first I haven't killed for it. Yet. Considering you're a very important asset."

Seraphina blinked up at him. Her voice was raspy but full of venom. "I'm not afraid of you."

Dante glanced at her over his shoulder. "You should be and you will be."

She flinched. Somehow, her mind reeled to when he had grabbed her neck and said she called Nate's name before his. She frowned as she thought, "was th- that jealousy?"

A video began playing on the screen, and Dante turned it toward her.

The image made her heart stop.

Men in black - at least a dozen - surrounded a familiar building.

Her parents' apartment.

Megan's silhouette passed in the window. Jude was on the couch, fists clenched. They were unaware.

"What... what is this?" Seraphina choked. "What's going on?!"

Dante's grin was slow. Dangerous.

"Just a little reminder that I always keep my promises."

Seraphina's eyes widened with horror. "What are you doing?! Leave them out of this! We don't even know you!"

"Oh but they do know me. As for their safety," Dante raised a brow. "That's up to you."

"What do you want from me?!"

He leaned in again, placing the tablet down on her lap.

"I need a bride," he said simply. "One who can give me an heir."

Seraphina stared at him like he was mad. "And how the hell is that my business?!"

Dante's eyes narrowed. "It is very much your business. You will marry me."

She laughed bitterly. "I'd rather die."

"Oh, don't tempt me," he said. "But here's the deal, Seraphina. Say yes, and your parents live out the rest of their pathetic lives in peace. Say no... and I burn that apartment to the ground with them inside."

Seraphina's stomach twisted.

She looked at the paused frame on the screen-her mother fixing the curtain, her father sipping a cup of tea-and suddenly the hospital bed felt like a coffin.

"You're insane," she whispered.

Dante smirked. "No. I'm powerful. And you... you're valuable."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she whispered, "Why me? You could have gotten any other person but you chose me, why?"

Dante straightened and began to walk toward the door.

Just before he stepped out, he paused.

"Ask your 'father'."

Seraphina blinked. "What?"

"I said-" he turned his head, eyes gleaming. "-ask Jude. Assuming he's your father."

And then he disappeared into the shadows again.

--

Back at the apartment...

Rain tapped lightly against the cracked windowpane.

Megan stood motionless, staring outside. Her cheek was sunken, her collarbones stark. Her arms, wrapped around herself, trembled faintly-but her eyes were empty.

Jude paced behind her, frustration oozing from his every movement.

"Honey," he said again, more desperate this time. "You haven't eaten. Not a drop of water. You can't keep going like this!"

Megan didn't blink.

"Consider your health-"

"My health?" she snapped, her voice hoarse and sharp. She spun around, her eyes wild. "My daughter is in the hands of the devil and you're talking to me about my health?! How could you be so heartless? You didn't even show an iota of worry!"

She slammed her fist against the window so hard that the glass shattered.

"Jeez -Megan!" Jude cried, rushing to her side.

Blood seeped from her knuckles.

He grabbed her wrist, panic rising. "Are you out of your mind?! What are you trying to do-bleed yourself to death?!"

She jerked her hand away.

"I've already lost everything," she whispered.

Jude's jaw clenched. "Megan-please-"

"Why weren't you there?!" she suddenly screamed. "Why weren't you at the rooftop?!"

Jude went stiff, his gaze turned rigid.

"Even if you hated Nate... even if you had issues with him-you should have come! She's your daughter, Jude! She's our daughter!"

The silence that followed was deafening.

Jude's lips parted-but no words came.

Megan's eyes narrowed. "You knew, didn't you? You knew something would happen."

She stepped closer, her bleeding hand trembling.

"Tell me, Jude... why didn't you come? Where you part of this? My daughter got shot! They wouldn't even let me see her and you are at peace?!"

Jude looked away. His fists clenched. His breath quickened.

"Because..." he finally whispered, "Seraphina... isn't our daughter."

Megan's entire world tilted.

"What...?"