Chapter Five
The Devil’s Den
The morning at the dining room, sunlight slid through the sheer curtains like an uninvited guest. Hilda had already set the table with steaming plates of eggs and toast filling the air, making it homey. With a sense of home Mirabella hadn't felt in years.
Aria was the first to speak, nudging her mug of coffee closer. "So, what plans do you have now that you're back? Besides dealing with all this emotional weight like some tragic heroine."
I forced a half-smile, slicing my toast with unnecessary precision. "I’ve already started applying for jobs online. Mostly reception work at hotels, some barista gigs. But there’s this club that caught my attention, I already applied there too."
"A club?" Hilda repeated, looking up sharply. "What club?"
I shrugged, trying to keep my tone light. "It's called The Devil’s Den. It sounds edgy, right? It’s got a clean front though, and I'm sure the name is just there; meaning nothing significant. They’re hiring hostesses."
Hilda went still. Her fork hovered mid-air close to her mouth. "Mirabella... that place is not for you. Let's find something else for you to do, huh?"
I raised a brow. "I’m 19 already, I’ve lived alone for four years in New York. You think I can’t handle working in a club?"
Hilda set her fork down carefully. "That place isn’t what it seems. It’s not just a club. There are so many rumors about that club, even the name sounds really edgy and suspicious."
Aria cut in. "You mean there’s more to it? Like what, drugs?"
Hilda glanced at me, then Aria. "I'm not sure and It’s not what you think. It’s... complicated. It’s not a place for girls like you."
"I’m not a child anymore, I can make decisions for myself," I said, standing. "I’m going if I get the job. I need the money, and it’s not like I’m signing a contract with the devil, it's just a job."
I know I was sounding unreasonable, but I was tired of being seen and treated like a child: my brother did the same, always making decisions for me. And now… now he….
I left them in the dining room to my room because I needed to be alone. The tears would not stop falling.
“Tell me what you want to do to me,” she said innocently, with something like a wicked smile as if she was doing it intentionally.
“I want your nipples in my mouth baby, I want to suck you, to feel you,” he replied trying to catch her as she ran round the couch in his leaving room. The impatience in his voice was very evident.
“Catch me first, then I will let you suck my nipples,” she said giggling as if she doesn't know what she just said could bring a man down to his fucking knees.
“Bella baby, stop. I need to be inside you, baby. I might explode if you don't let me.”
“Would it feel good?” She asked quietly with those innocent eyes again.
Fuck me, can she be any cuter? “Absolutely Bella, you would feel very good. I would make sure you do. You can ride me too, I'd teach you how to.”
“Can I?” She asked again, giving me puppy eyes.
Ok, that was it. Hunter could not hold it in anymore. He jumped over the couch and caught her. She was giggling when his lips slammed on hers. Demanding. Hot. Overpowering. He took her to the bed, dropped her and began to remove his clothes. He freed his swollen dick. She had made him so hot and his cock needed immediate attention.
He was now naked and between her legs. Her flare gown had already risen up to her waist, so he desperately removed her panties and without foreplay, he aligned his cock to her center and slammed inside her tight pussy. Home.
She moaned sweetly, her legs wrapped around his waist. She was so tight. Her pussy clutching his cock greedily as if to milk him dry.
“My sweet Bella, look what you do to me, baby. I'm going crazy because of you, not being inside you is pure torture,” she moaned in agreement, her mouth slightly open, her head thrown back as she takes in the full length of his cock.
Her moans were now distant. Her fingers were digging into his back but he couldn't feel the sting. Everything was now becoming blur but he was still groaning and moaning her name.
“Bella, my sweet Mirabella look what you do to me,” and he opened his eyes. Bright morning lights were sipping in through the windows. He had gone home the previous night. He doesn't know why though. He rarely came home. He mostly stays at his penthouse in the club.
“It's a fucking dream. Shit,” he cursed.
Wiping his hand over his face it was sweaty, the bed was equally wet from his fucking wet dream.
“Mirabella Antonio, you fucking come to me before I find you myself. I can't fucking erase the picture of having your tight little pussy wrapped around my hard cock.”
“Fuck, and no one has tainted her innocence. I'm going to take everything all at once," a smile of satisfaction creeped on his face making him look even more dangerous.
The Devil’s Den – That Night
Out front, The Devil’s Den looked like a crown jewel on a dark street. Very huge and tall building with sleek and shiny black marble exterior. Thin red and blue neon letters that pulsed like a heartbeat. A velvet rope guarded the entrance, men in tailored suits and elegant women flanking it like statues.
But the inside, the real inside, was hell and an empire of sin.
Below the surface, far from the polite laughter of champagne-drinking elites, was the underground lair: the underground has different sections of sin, there is the ring. Where brutal combats take place, the cage, where traitors are kept and punished until they atone for their sins or even killed, there is the drug area, where drugs are packed and distributed and also don areas having blood-red walls, chains clinking lightly from the ceilings, cage-like stages where dominant men put on lewd performances with women who craved them. There were no boundaries here. No safewords. No innocence.
But one rule guided these sections; do not go where you do not belong, do not wonder about as all sections have their floors in the underground. When found trespassing, you could disappear forever.
And at the center of it all stood Hunter Groves.
"Devil’s in the house," someone muttered.
Hunter strode in, the dim lights catching the curve of his hard jaw. Black-on-black tailored suit, shirt unbuttoned enough to hint at the toned perfect skin beneath.
"Groves," Mario greeted with a toothy grin from behind the polished oak bar. The sixty-year-old grayed hair man poured his favorite single malt, neat without needing to be asked.
"Mario," Hunter nodded, taking the drink from him. "You still making that bourbon sour like a damn magician?"
"Only for sinners," Mario winked.
Hunter’s lips curled as he sipped, watching the stage. Jackie was back tonight, riding a leather pole with a whip in one hand, curves gleaming under the lights. She had requested working in the club to be closer to him, but he had said nothing then, guess she found her way anyway.
She looked tempting on that pole, her boobs bouncing as she did her thing. She had already sighted him and was winking and smiling at him. That creepy smile he thought.
His mind drifted to that wet morning dream he had with his Bella. He closed his eyes and sipped his drink again. He heard Tobias give Mario a very short greeting before he appeared in front of him.
Slick in black jeans and a grey turtleneck, his brow creased with worry as he leaned close. "We’ve got a problem Devil. Ziko’s been talking to Geret."
Hunter’s glass froze halfway to his mouth.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Caught him on our surveillance. He’s been leaking operations, shipments. The route to Santo Domingo."
The glass clicked on the counter as Hunter dropped it, eyes flashing with anger. It was a miracle the glass didn't shatter to pieces. “I'm sure you have done the needful.”
“He's been locked up in the cage,” Tobias replied almost immediately.
“Let's go see the bastard.”
In the underground Holding Cell
Ziko was chained to the back wall, blood already drying on his face. He whimpered when Hunter entered.
"Boss, I…"
"Don’t call me that," Hunter growled. The guards stepped back.
He circled Ziko like a wolf. "You’re lucky I don’t feed you to my dogs. You sold me to Geret? You put my house at risk?"
"It was a mistake…"
Hunter’s fist cut him off, a direct strike to the gut. Ziko collapsed.
"Mistakes get cleaned up," Hunter whispered. "And I don’t clean with bleach."
Tobias lit a cigarette, watching silently.
"You know what happens next, don’t you?" Hunter’s voice was calm, calculated.
Ziko shook his head violently. "Please. It wasn’t about money. He... he threatened to kill my sister."
"Then you should’ve come to me," Hunter hissed. "Not betray me."
He leaned closer.
"The Devil doesn't forgive. He only collects."
Back at Hilda’s Apartment
Mirabella's Pov
I lay on the couch, while Aria scrolled through job listings on her phone.
"You really going through with this club gig?"
"I just need something to begin with," I replied. "Something that makes me feel alive again. If it doesn't work out, then I will try something else."
She nodded.
I didn’t know then that the place I thought would restart my life afresh... was actual
ly the center of the nightmare I’d spent years running from.
But you can’t run from the Devil forever.
Not when he’s been waiting and watching.
