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My bad, she's already mine.
Huling Na-update:
2024-10-28 12:32:32
Kaugnay na kabanata
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Take her back
Dallion's eyes fell on his younger sister, Rose, whose head snapped to turn toward him. Rose rolled her eyes and said, "I am not a captive to be punished. I am a member of this family; you cannot punish me." "Why not? Family or not, we are all taught how to follow rules. Clearly, you haven't understood not to step on the boundaries we have," Dallion said coolly, turning his gaze back to their father. "Don’t you remember that one time, Father, when you punished Grace for not listening to what was told?" Grace, who had been quiet after their stepmother's wrong accusation about her not treating the woman right, looked up from the table. She stared at the wall, remembering what Dallion was speaking of. The memory was as fresh as if it had occurred only hours ago. Both Grace and Dallion were young then. She had brought home a small lost lamb from the forest, even though she wasn’t supposed to. It wasn’t t
Huling Na-update : 2024-10-29The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. I think so
The glint in Dallion’s eyes dimmed, a lop-sided smile playing on his lips. "The thought of celebrating someone’s birth is only endearing when they are still alive." This was the time of year Dallion hated the most. Changing the subject back, he lifted his chin. "Don't you think Rose is being spoiled unnecessarily?" "She must have taken it from you," Mr Cross's lips twisted slightly as he picked up the glass of whiskey placed for him, taking a slow sip. "Touche. But at least I don’t threaten to break arms for every little thing. You need to keep an eye on her. You never know what she might pull next." His father nodded in agreement but didn’t voice it at first. "I’m aware of her tendencies," He placed his hand under his chin. "Sometimes, I wonder if it’s because she feels left out, being the youngest. It does worry me." "I’ll happily take the task of beating the brattiness out of her," the
Huling Na-update : 2024-10-30The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Sheryl love
Dallion turned around to face her, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Lovely? You should have seen her tear through her enemies like a wolf through prey." He smirked at the shock on her face. "Did you think she was kind?" His laugh was dark, sending a chill through her. Sherry remained silent. "Oh, my little mouse," Dallion’s lips curled into a wicked smile, eyes twinkling with amusement. "I take after my mother. She was beautiful, maybe kind to her children, but you know how I am. Grace takes after our father, but I... I inherited all of my mother’s traits, while sweet Rose has taken after her own mother." Sherry had no words. Her mind reeled at the image of Dallion’s mother, a woman who could tear people apart. She followed him cautiously, aware that there was more lurking beneath his surface. "Don’t judge by appearances," he lectured her, his tone turning condescending. "Learn to look beyond the facade. Use your brain, l
Huling Na-update : 2024-10-31The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. you'd be surprised
Once she was up, Sherryl started to balance herself on the branch, which felt weak and shaky. After a few nervous adjustments, she stretched, reaching out to the fruit Dallion had pointed out earlier. Just as she balanced herself, the branch above her, where she had been holding on, snapped into her hand. For a fleeting moment, fear gripped her, but she sighed in relief when nothing catastrophic happened—until she heard another crack. Her heart raced as the branch beneath her gave way. But Sherryl had expected she would hit the ground considering how Dallion was, he was always after making fun of her. Instead, Dallion caught her in time as she fell. She had squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for impact, but when the fall didn’t come, she finally opened her eyes to see him staring at her, calm and composed. "Thank you," she muttered, still catching her breath. "You got my fruit?" Dallion asked nonchalantly. Sherryl looked down at the fruit in her hand, slightly bruised from the ordea
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-01The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. drop it lower
By the time they reached the mansion, the sky had brightened because it was almost noon, clouds gathering ominously since they had left. Dallion stopped outside the grand estate without stepping in, signaling to his driver, Victor, who stood at attention, ready for his master’s command. Dallion turned his dark gaze to his butler, who appeared out of nowhere as if summoned by an invisible bell. “We’re visiting the Bone lake beach I’ll be back in three hours. In the meantime, Raven might come by with some items. Make sure everything gets to my room without a scratch. Handle it yourself,” Dallion instructed, his tone clipped. “I’ll make sure everything is brought to your room safely, sir,” the butler responded with a bow. “Good.” Without waiting for further acknowledgment, Dallion strode toward the waiting car, and Sherryl followed closely, as was expected. Nicki
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-02The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. A generous tip
Dallion, who had mentioned finding her a new pair of heels, had instead handed Sherry the stack of bags he'd gathered. He hadn't picked a single thing for her, and she'd learned just how ridiculously picky he was. She’d thought she was cautious when shopping, given her lack of funds, but this man was in a league of his own. They’d hit nearly a dozen upscale shops, yet Dallion kept turning his nose up at everything with a look of absolute boredom until he finally found a blazer that mildly interested him, only to drop it again. When they reached a store he deemed acceptable, he’d started haggling shamelessly, dismissing price tags as if they were mere suggestions. "Let’s settle on two thousand," Dallion said, examining a sleek, dark jacket as if it held the secrets of the universe. Sherry bit down her reaction, feeling the flush of secondhand embarrassment. She was the captive here, technically his possession, yet she found herself wishing she could disappear behind the clothing
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-03The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. something more suitable
The assistant led Sherry into another room where a dark, sleek tub filled with water awaited her. The room resembled a luxurious spa rather than a mere washroom. Black marble tiles covered the floor, polished to a mirror-like gleam. A small leather chair sat near the tub, and the assistant gestured for Sherry to sit.Clad in a tight, utilitarian dress that skimmed just above her knees, Sherry sat with a restrained posture, careful not to expose more than necessary. Awkwardly, she lifted her foot, placing it into the cool water, feeling a jolt of unexpected relief. Her skin was roughened from days on the run, calloused and scarred, and the sight embarrassed her, but the assistant remained impassive, a perfect, blank slate as she knelt to scrub Sherry’s foot with professional precision.Sherry braced herself for a look of disdain—if not from the assistant, then from Gen, the store’s intimidating proprietor. Yet neither the assistant nor Gen displayed even a
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-04The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. what are you?
The woman was swift as she emerged with two boxes in her hands. "These arrived together with the crimson stilettos you were eyeing, Mr. Cross," she said, opening a box without waiting for her assistant and kneeling in front of Sherry. Sherry found this strange, almost unsettling. Two weeks into this life, and people had treated her like a pawn, disregarding her as if her individual worth didn’t matter. In that time, this woman, who managed the store, knelt before her without even a moment’s hesitation. The gesture touched Sherry. It was often said that in the bleakest moments, the smallest kindness felt like a light in the dark, a reminder that some trace of humanity lingered, even among people as ruthless as those in the Cross Empire. "These are crafted by a master cobbler in southern Bone lake," Gen explained, lifting a pair of dark, inky blue heels that resembled a midnight sky. From afar, they appeared black, but upon closer
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-05
Pinakabagong kabanata
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. I need a taste
When an unintended sigh slipped past her lips, it only seemed to fuel the fire already burning in Dallion’s touch. His grip on her tightened, his heart beating steadily, his eyes alive with something dark and dangerous. His control was slipping, and he knew it. Without another word, his teeth extended, sharp and eager. "I need a taste," he murmured, his voice rough with hunger. Before Sherryl could react, Dallion sank his teeth into the side of her neck. Her skin was —warm, rich, intoxicating, it was sweeter than anything he had ever tasted. It made him wonder if it was because of who she was, something about her making it more potent, more addictive. It was like drinking from something rare, something otherworldly. Dallion never cared for attachments, never let himself be bound to anyone. He had always been clear about that. Women came and went, serving a purpose but never staying long enough to matter. But ever since he had laid eyes on
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. i don't share... little mouse
Sherryl stared at him. Was she imagining things, or was Dallion actually jealous? The thought alone sent an odd, fluttery feeling through her stomach, one she didn’t quite understand. "I don’t share, little mouse," Dallion said smoothly, as if reading her thoughts. "Did you really think I’d be fine with you standing on a stage, under bright lights, with hundreds of eyes fixated on you?" His tone was calm, but the possessiveness in it was unmistakable. He leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers. "Do you want to know when and how I fell for you?" His voice dropped to a whisper, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "I think it’s time I told you properly." Sherryl’s heart pounded. "I think it’s okay if you don’t," she blurted out, already anticipating the embarrassment that would follow. Dallion clicked his tongue. As she raised her hands to push him away, he caught them effortlessly, pinning them against the bed with a smirk.
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Seduce men with your voice
Sherryl, still quietly eating her apples, wished she could finish quickly and leave as well. Every meal in this house felt like a battlefield, tension thick in the air. She continued eating as discreetly as possible. Then, his father spoke. "You should stop spoiling the girl, Dallion. Your sister is right. We don’t want you being manipulated." His cold gaze flickered toward Sherryl, and she felt a lump form in her throat. "There have been plenty of cases where a simple girl like this has twisted her owner into doing unspeakable things—even wiping out their own family just at her word. And we both know you’ve already had your fair share of experience with betrayal." Dallion’s smirk didn’t falter. "Don’t worry, Father. I care about my family too much to kill them. Well… at least you and Grace. The rest? I can’t make any promises." His eyes drifted toward his younger half-sister. Rose’s expression darkened,
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Screwing each other like animals.
Here’s the revised version with the name changes.In the grand estate of the Cross family, the evening air was thick with the promise of an impending storm. The sky remained overcast, and a biting wind whispered through the halls. With winter creeping closer, the temperature had plummeted to an unforgiving low. If not for the warmth provided by the mansion’s insulated walls and flickering fireplaces, those unaccustomed to such cold would have perished.For the staff working in the Cross estate, survival was a luxury they didn’t take for granted. The grand halls and well-kept quarters provided a stark contrast to the bleak streets they might have otherwise called home.As the evening descended into dinner time, Dallion Cross and Sherryl Rain made their way into the dining room. Plates were brought out by silent staff, each movement practiced and precise. Sherryl, however, found herself staring at what was placed before her—a thick slab of raw meat, still red wit
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. I tolerate her
Dallion studied her intently, his sharp eyes reading every flicker of doubt on her face. But he still answered, "You said you walked there because riots had blocked the main road. You took a different route and eventually found him. Later, you mentioned bringing him back, but by then, it was too late. Your mother’s condition had already worsened. What’s going on, Sherryl? Speak." His voice was firm, demanding. There was an unsettling confusion in Sherryl’s eyes as she tried to piece together the past. Then, out of nowhere, she asked, "If my mom could still be alive… does that mean she would allow me to look for him?" Dallion exhaled deeply, his expression unreadable. "Yes."He didn't want to give her false hopes, he knew her father left them and he was sure her mother wouldn't have allowed her to look for him. Sherryl nodded slowly, but she wasn’t convinced. If her father had left only to return years later, what
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Has someone touched you before?
Dallion held her closer, his grip softer now, unlike before. His hands weren’t restraining her wrists anymore—they were holding all of her, as if anchoring her. It wasn’t just his touch that had changed, but his voice too. It was calm, quieter than usual when he spoke. “Tell me, Sherryl. Do you find it difficult to trust someone with your feelings?” His words were firm yet patient. “You do realize I’m not letting you go until you tell me what’s going on?” Something had shifted in her. He had noticed the change immediately. Moments ago, she had been fine—her pupils had been dilated, her breathing slightly unsteady—but then, suddenly, she had gone still. Her heartbeat had steadied unnaturally fast, and her eyes had turned hollow, like she was somewhere else entirely. There was only one conclusion Dallion could come to. Had someone touched her before? Her voice was low when she finally answered. “It’s nothing serious.” Slowly, Dallion loosened his hold but didn’t let her mo
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. did something happen?
Sherry barely had time to process the overwhelming sensations before her legs gave out. With a strangled yelp, she toppled sideways, arms flailing—only to land in an ungraceful heap on the floor.Dallion stared down at her, blinking. Then, slowly, a smirk curled his lips. “Well, that’s one way to show appreciation.”Sherry groaned, hiding her burning face in her hands. “I hate you.”“I know.” He crouched beside her, entirely too amused. “But if you were going to throw yourself at my feet, you could’ve at least done it with some dignity.”Bluebeard Lady chuckled from her corner. “She’s a fast learner. Even her falls are dramatic.”Sherry shot them both a murderous glare as Dallion effortlessly scooped her up. “Put me down!”“Not a chance,” he said, carrying her outside like she weighed nothing.The drive back to the Cross’s mansion was filled with Dallion’s teasing remarks—each one met with Sherry’s grumbled threats. But
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. You're mine to teach.
The tent’s lanterns flickered softly, casting golden light over velvet drapes and aged artifacts. The scent of incense thickened the air, mingling with something more primal—the slow hum of anticipation.Sherry sat in the center of the room, wrists bound in silk, the smooth fabric a whisper against her skin. The ties weren’t meant for struggle, but for awareness—of herself, of the watchful presence behind her, and of the woman before her.Bluebeard Lady circled her like a patient instructor, a delicate silver chain swaying between her fingers. “Restraint,” she murmured, “isn’t about holding back. It’s about extending sensation, drawing it out until it becomes something unforgettable.”Sherry swallowed hard, feeling the heat of Dallion’s gaze from his seat across the room. He had yet to speak, but his presence was a force in itself—a quiet command.The woman knelt before Sherry, her fingers ghosting over her skin, feather-light. Even with
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Beginning to understand
Sherryl Rain kept her head low, focusing on the lesson, even though she knew how rare it was for someone of Grace’s status to take the time to educate a mere servant. Most high-ranking figures in the Cross Empire saw little value in teaching those beneath them. Grace glanced at the worn parchment in front of her before turning her cold gaze to Sherryl, the little mouse that belonged to Dallion. “We’ll stop here for today,” Grace decided, stretching as she closed the book. “I need to take my mother and sister out to the Valley. Would you like to come?” The offer sounded casual, but Sherryl could hear the subtle test in it. “Ever been there before?” Sherryl gave a slight nod. “Master Dallion is taking me somewhere today.” A truthful excuse, but also a way to avoid the suffocating tension she’d have to endure with Grace and her ever-judgmental sister. Without pushing for details, Grace dismissed her, and Sherryl exhaled a brea
