Bound To The Devil

Chapter 102

Luca’s stomach flipped. His breath caught. Damien’s stare—God. It was deep, too deep, burning straight through his skin like fire.

And then, he smirked.

That slow, knowing curve of his lips. Dark. Possessive. Lethal.

Luca knew.

He knew.

His throat went dry.

Beside him, Valarie exhaled sharply.

“Shit, this is intense.” she muttered.

Sebastian was already moving. Controlled. Cold. Terrifying.

“Get in the car.” His voice was quiet. Too quiet.

Valarie hesitated, and Sebastian’s hand was on her wrist.

A firm, unbreakable grip.

Luca swallowed hard, glancing at Damien—but Damien was already in front of him.

Too close.

Towering. Suffocating.

“You’re shaking,” Damien murmured, brushing a knuckle against his cheek. Soft. Mocking.

Luca jerked away. “I’m not—”

Damien’s fingers curled around his jaw.

Not tight. But unyielding.

“You were going to keep it from me.”

Luca’s stomach dropped.

Damien’s thumb traced his lower lip. Slow. Intimate.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out?” His voice was dangerous. Low, quiet—the kind of quiet that came before a storm.

Luca’s pulse pounded. “Damien—”

“Get in the car.”

The words were final.

No room for argument. No escape.

Luca sucked in a breath. His hands felt cold, but his skin was burning.

Damien tilted his head, watching him. Waiting.

“Luca,” he said again, softer this time. Too soft.

A warning.

Luca stepped into the car.

Damien followed.

Valarie’s POV

Sebastian didn’t speak.

Not when he opened the door.
Not when she slid into the passenger seat.
Not when he got in beside her, closing the door with a quiet, deadly finality.

Then—

“You’re testing me, Valarie.”

The way he said her name—deep, unshaken, threaded with violence.

Valarie clenched her jaw, refusing to look at him.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, tapping his fingers against the wheel. Controlled fury.

Then—his hand gripped her thigh.

Not gentle. Not kind.

Valarie sucked in a breath. “I just—”

“You just what? Forgot who you belong to?”

The words were razor-sharp. A dark, velvet threat.

She turned to him. “I needed some space, Sebastian. It was dinner with my brother.”

His hand tightened. “I don’t care.”

Her pulse stuttered.

“You don’t leave without telling me.” His voice was low, deep, edged with control. “Not you. Not ever.”

Valarie opened her mouth, but his grip flexed—not enough to hurt, but enough to make her breath hitch.

His gaze was unreadable.

"You think I'm overreacting?" he murmured. "You think I'm just possessive?"

Valarie didn’t answer.

Sebastian leaned closer. "I would burn this city down for you, Valarie."

His fingers brushed up, pressing against the inside of her thigh. Slow. Deliberate.

"You want space?" His lips brushed her ear. "Run. See how far you get."

Her stomach flipped.

Sebastian sat back, watching her. Waiting.

Valarie swallowed.

She knew one thing.

She wasn't running.

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