Bound To The Devil

Luca's Pov

Luca’s head was pounding when he woke up, the dull ache at the back of his skull reminding him of the brutal way he had been taken.

Now, as his vision adjusted to the dim lighting, Luca realized he was in a lavish yet eerily sterile room, the scent of expensive cigars lingering in the air. Heavy curtains blocked out the outside world, and he could hear the faint hum of classical music playing in the background. He shifted, testing his limbs, but found them bound—his wrists tied securely to the chair he was seated in. His stomach twisted in nausea.

A slow, deliberate clap broke the silence, and Luca’s head snapped toward the source. Mikhail stood before him, leaning lazily against a grand desk, his expression one of amusement and admiration.

“You’re even more breathtaking up close,” Mikhail mused, his sharp blue eyes raking over Luca with something sickeningly close to reverence. “No wonder Damien is so obsessed. If I had someone like you, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight either.”

Luca clenched his jaw, refusing to give any reaction. He knew men like Mikhail—predators who fed on fear. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Mikhail smirked at Luca’s silence and took a step closer, reaching out as if to touch his face. Luca jerked away, his lip curling in disgust.

“I could give you so much more than Damien ever could,” Mikhail continued, his tone smooth, persuasive. “He is a monster, Luca. A man who thrives on violence, on cruelty. You think he truly loves you? No. You’re just another thing for him to own. But with me? You’d be free. Cherished.”

Luca let out a hollow, bitter laugh. “Free?” His voice was hoarse, but sharp with defiance. “You kidnapped me, tied me up, and now you’re spewing this bullshit about freedom?”

Mikhail chuckled, as if entertained by Luca’s fire. “Ah, but you don’t understand. I only had to take you because Damien would never willingly let you go. You’re his weakness, and I intend to use that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t offer you something better in the process. I could give you the world, Luca. No more cages, no more brutality—just comfort, luxury, a life where you’d never have to lift a finger.”

Luca’s blood boiled at the audacity. He stared at Mikhail, disgust crawling up his spine. Then, without a second thought, he gathered every ounce of spit in his mouth and hurled it onto Mikhail’s face.

The room fell into dead silence.

Mikhail froze, his expression unreadable as the saliva dripped down his cheek. Luca refused to break eye contact, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with the force of his fury.

Then, slowly, Mikhail wiped his face with the back of his hand. When he looked at Luca again, the amusement had vanished, replaced with something dark, something dangerous.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was eerily calm, but Luca could see the storm brewing beneath the surface.

Luca’s heart pounded, but he lifted his chin defiantly. “Go to hell.”

Mikhail’s smirk returned, though now it was twisted with something cruel. “Oh, my dear Luca,” he murmured, stepping closer, placing a hand on the armrest of Luca’s chair. “If you think Damien is the worst monster you’ll ever encounter, you haven’t even begun to see what I’m capable of.”

Luca swallowed, but he didn’t let his fear show. He had no doubt Damien was coming for him. And when he did, Mikhail would regret ever laying a hand on him.

**
Luca's breathing was uneven, his wrists raw from the restraints biting into his skin. Mikhail stood in front of him,  A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but his eyes were dark with something far more dangerous than amusement.