Bound To The Devil

Damien's Pov

The room reeked of blood.

Natalya lay crumpled on the cold marble, her body twitching as ragged breaths wheezed past her lips. Her once-flawless skin was mottled with bruises, her cheekbone split, her lips swollen and torn. Tears mixed with blood, streaking down her face as she choked out another plea.

“D-Damien… please…”

Her voice was barely a whisper, broken beyond repair.

Damien loomed above her, his expression carved from ice. His black leather gloves gleamed under the dim light, streaked crimson with her suffering. He tilted his head, regarding her like a lifeless object—no longer a wife, no longer a person. Just another shattered thing beneath his control.

“I warned you, Natalya.” His voice was silk wrapped around steel, devoid of empathy. “I told you what would happen if you disrespected me.”

She sobbed, curling into herself, her trembling hands trying to shield her bruised ribs. But Damien was not done. He crouched down, gripping her jaw with ruthless precision, forcing her to look at him. His fingers dug into her delicate bones, making her whimper.

“You thought you had power, didn’t you?” he murmured, his lips barely moving. “You thought your name, your family, meant something to me.”

A choked noise escaped her throat. Her shattered eyes pleaded, searching for any mercy in the man she once loved. But there was none.

He shoved her back, the force making her head slam against the floor. Her body spasmed, her whimpering turning into wet gasps.

Still, he did not stop.

He stepped closer, placing his polished shoe against her ribs, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm. “How pathetic,” he mused, pressing down harder. “How weak.”

Natalya sobbed. “Damien—!”

CRACK.

The sound of breaking bone echoed through the vast room. Her scream was cut off by a strangled gasp as her body jerked violently. Her eyes rolled back, and then… silence.

Damien exhaled, watching as her chest barely moved. Blood pooled beneath her, her delicate frame barely able to withstand his wrath.

A flicker of annoyance crossed his expression. “Tsk. Weak.”

Then—

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

Damien’s gaze slowly lifted to meet the doorway.

Luca.

The younger man stood frozen, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. His wide eyes darted between Damien and Natalya’s broken form. Horror painted his delicate features, his lips parted in disbelief.

Damien smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You’re interrupting, Luka.”

Luca’s stomach lurched. He swallowed bile, his entire body locking in place as Damien took a step toward him, unbothered by the chaos he had just inflicted. The casual way he wiped his bloody gloves against his crisp black suit made something primal scream inside Luca’s head.

“What… what did you do?” Luca’s voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Damien sighed. “I punished her.”

“She’s not even—!” Luca’s breath hitched. “She’s barely breathing!”

Damien’s lips curled into something unreadable. “Then she should’ve learned faster.”