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My bad, she's already mine.
Last Updated:
2024-10-28 12:32:32Related chapters
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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 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
Last Updated : 2024-11-05
Latest chapter
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. What comes next
In the early hours of the evening, where the city’s lights flickered against the thick clouds looming above, Sherryl Rain found herself seated on a sleek, black leather chair in Dallion Cross’s personal chamber—a space far removed from the glamour of his grand estate. This room, lined with shadowed corners and polished steel, exuded control and mystery, much like the man who ruled it. Sherryl, now accustomed to the unconventional life she had been drawn into, was working on her assigned tasks. A modern tablet lay before her, the glow illuminating her delicate features as she practiced the art of precision—handwriting exercises. Although this seemed an unusual task in the digital age, Dallion valued the elegance of penmanship. To him, elegance equaled discipline. Her focus wavered when a droplet of crimson ink fell from the quill-like stylus she held, staining the parchment she used to replicate letters. Frustrated but not wanting to anger Dallion, she carefully tilted the paper to s
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Even pain can turn into pleasure
Sherry's heart thundered in her chest as if she were prey, and the predator before her was ready to devour her completely. She swallowed hard, the soft glow of red lights in the room casting ominous shadows on the walls. Dallion’s voice was as smooth as dark velvet, low and commanding. “What’s got you so scared, little mouse?” “It’s going to hurt,” she whispered, the idea of his tools cutting through her barriers spiking her fear. He smirked, leaning closer, his towering frame enveloping her as he braced one hand on the leather-padded wall beside her head. “Do you know, Sherryl Rain? Even pain can turn into pleasure.” Her throat bobbed nervously. “The person must be a true masochist to think pain is a pleasure,” she shot back, trying to mask her trembling voice with forced confidence. A dark hum rumbled from his chest as he studied her, the corner of his lips quirking. “If you haven’t experienced it, you haven’t lived at all. Don’t be so tense.” His voice dipped lower as his fing
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. let's see if you can handle it.
They left after Sherryl had settled scores with her foster family, in the car Dallion kept on staring at Sherryl something she found too odd. She knew Dallion loved looking at her face but not to the extreme he was looking at her at the moment. "Do you think I did something bad to them? Like I'm being unfilial to them?" She brushed her brows before looking at Dallion who was engrossed in looking at her. " I think I just got back at them for what they did to me, but I feel like a fool by stooping to their level." Sherryl didn't get any response from Dallion , not like she was expecting any answers from him anyway, she silently moved closer to the window and focused on the scenery outside, when they arrived at the mansion Dallion took her hand into his and led her. Dallion’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. as he looked at Sherryl closely, it seemed like they had arrived. This was another territory Sherryl had no idea of in the vast mansion of the Cross family. "True enou
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. it hurts
Sherry Rain’s uncle, who had only just stepped inside, froze mid-step, his mouth opening but failing to form words. His expression mirrored the one her aunt, May, had worn upon seeing Sherry appear at their door, an uneasy combination of shock and guilt. They hadn’t expected her, and it was clear they had sold her. Sherry clenched her fists, questioning why she had agreed to come here, even with the gut feeling she’d had about what transpired the day she was sent to the Cross empire’s underground auction. "I don’t understand what you’re talking about, mister," her uncle, Larry, stammered, his voice faltering as Dallion shifted his cold, predatory gaze to him. Larry's throat bobbed as he gulped nervously but continued his charade. “Where have you been all this time? When we came back, you weren’t there… we assumed you ran off.” The man’s obliviousness to the barely veiled threat Dallion had issued to May earlier made his
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. perfect timing
Dallion’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, his expression almost mocking. “A fair question, little mouse. Life would be dreadfully boring if I skipped the theatrics every time. There are moments when it’s necessary to walk among the shadows, to breathe in the grit of this city. Skipping steps makes you lose touch. Besides…” He paused, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. “I enjoy the convoy rides. It’s the perfect time to plan moves, strategize... or just reflect.” “But there are limits,” he added, his tone dropping, the shift in his demeanor palpable. “Limits?” Dallion nodded, his expression growing serious. “The Time required to satisfy my need in settling accounts is immense. Blood is the fuel for such a gift. And let’s just say…” He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming as his voice dropped to a whisper, “…finding the right accounts I need from my debtors isn’
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. much to discuss
Sherryl walked to the edge of the leather couch, sitting down as the weight of her foster uncle and aunt's betrayal bore down on her. The thought that no one she had trusted as her family could be trusted left her feeling adrift. Her father had disappeared, her mother was gone, and now the only relatives she had left had sold her out. Across the room, Dallion leaned against the marble-topped bar, his piercing gaze fixed on her. His expression, unreadable yet intense, studied her carefully. “Are you alright?” Dallion asked, swirling a glass of amber liquor in his hand. Though his voice was calm, there was an underlying sharpness, as if he already knew her answer. “I’ll be okay,” Sherryl replied, drawing in a deep, shaky breath before releasing it slowly. "People like them aren’t worth a second thought,” Dallion said, setting the glass down wi
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. I don't care
In the time of the early morning when Sherryl Rain had woken up from her restless sleep, she felt something wet on her feet. The sensation came again, tickling her skin, and just as she was about to dismiss it as part of a dream, the cool breeze from the cracked window grazed her bare legs, making her shiver. Half-asleep, she frowned, wondering if Dallion was up to one of his strange games again. Slowly, her groggy eyes fluttered open to find him still lying next to her, his breathing steady, and his eyes closed. A sharp lick on her foot jolted her fully awake. She yanked her leg back instinctively, pulling herself closer to the headboard. Her heart raced, and her sleepy mind struggled to make sense of it. Stretching her neck cautiously to see what was causing the strange sensation, her gaze landed on a large shadowy form at the foot of the bed. Her instincts screamed danger as she scrambled back, inadvertently yanking the blanket off Dallio
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Her lips taste's sweeter.
When they finally returned to the Cross Empire estate, the line of luxury cars that had been parked earlier because of the party had already cleared out. It had been hours since they left, and Sherryl felt drained. True to his word, Dallion had her seated in front of a polished chessboard, its black and white pieces gleaming under the warm light of the room. He patiently explained the game to her, taking his time to go through the basics. Despite his reputation for being short-tempered, he surprised her with how thoroughly he taught her, making sure she understood the moves. He left the room briefly, and by the time he returned, Sherryl was slumped over the edge of the board, her arm stretched out and her breathing steady. Her body remained stiff, as if ready to spring awake at the slightest noise. Closing the door quietly, Dallion approached the board and began putting th
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. charmed you
Her heart raced at the subtle challenge in his voice. Swallowing hard, she tried to move to the far edge of the car. Dallion followed, shutting the space between them with a decisive smile. The small space felt suffocating as he pulled the window curtains closed, sealing them in. Sherryl stiffened when he reached for her face, his grip firm yet deliberate. “What are you—” Her words turned into a gasp as his lips brushed her lips. Before she could react, his teeth sank into her tongue.Sherryl’s gasp turned into a muffled whimper as Dallion’s teeth grazed her tongue with a deliberate sharpness, a mixture of pleasure and pain igniting her senses. She tried to pull back instinctively, but his firm grip on her face left no room for escape. His dark eyes bore into hers, daring her to resist, daring her to push him away, but her body betrayed her.The sensation of his lips moving against hers was magnetic, each kiss deepenin
