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Promised punishment
Last Updated:
2024-10-12 12:27:40Related chapters
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. I haven't begun... but you're my first
Lady Ada leaned against the opulent mahogany table, her eyes glinting with a mixture of disdain and curiosity as she directed her venomous words toward Dallion. "What assistance can I provide, Mr. Cross? Don’t mind the maid’s foolishness; the help rarely knows their place or who they’re speaking to." Sherry, still reeling from the earlier insults, kicks and multreatment of the maid, glanced at the maid and felt a surge of empathy for her plight. But anger swelled within her, directed at both Lady Ada and Dallion for allowing this abuse to unfold. She didn’t regret her boldness; if anything, she felt a strange satisfaction in defying the lady's dress. Dallion could punish her later; the lady deserved every bit of humiliation. "I share your sentiments," Dallion replied smoothly, his voice dripping with condescension. "People of a lesser status often fail to comprehend the weight of their actions."
Last Updated : 2024-10-13The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Don't sulk little mouse
Sherry kept a careful distance from Dallion as the black SUV jostled over the potholed road of Bone Lake City. Every bump made her feel more trapped in this twisted life she never asked for. She longed to return to the life she once knew, yet deep down, she questioned if she ever truly had a life before. The words of a woman in the dimly lit cell echoed in her mind, casting shadows over her thoughts. Her adoptive parents had sold her, she silently cursed Uncle Larry and Aunt May for being so heartless with her, despite her efforts to help them run their small workshop.Despite her desire to believe that her relatives hadn’t sold her off to the underworld, the likelihood of it gnawed at her insides. The timing of her disappearance felt all too coincidental; it was as if fate had conspired against her. If she had been sold by those who were supposed to care for her, where could she even go now? Friends? She barely had any left. The ones she knew back in the city whi
Last Updated : 2024-10-14The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. What he sees in you
Sherry sat at the edge of the plush leather couch in the room, her fingers tracing the seams of high end fashioned clothes nervously. The lavish, dimly lit penthouse she now found herself in was a far cry from her old life, and every opulent detail seemed to scream that she didn’t belong. A sudden chill ran down her spine when she remembered the list of rules Dallion had recited before locking her in that cold, isolated room for hours.“Don’t leave the room. Don’t eat anything except what Butler Nickson gives you. Don’t speak to anyone. Don’t touch anything. Don’t even think about running away. You’re mine, and you’ll listen only to me.”So many don’ts. She’d already broken two. Would Dallion find out? Could she claim it was Lady Grace who brought her out, leaving her with no choice?The woman in question stood by the window, her silhouette illuminated by the city lights reflecting through the glass. Sherry couldn’t shake the feeling that getting
Last Updated : 2024-10-15The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Heart's corruption
Sherry looked up only to meet the mafia heiress dark eyes glued on her, confusion instantly clouding her features, her brow furrowed as she tried to piece together the situation. Across from her, the mafiress—who went by Grace—smirked, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I get it. That’s exactly how I felt when Dallion told me he bought a maid—you," she emphasized. The word confused didn’t even begin to capture Sherry’s emotions. Dallion hated captives. He’d made that clear. So why would he buy her off the black market? Grace leaned back casually, flipping open an ornate box and rummaging through it. "Hate?" she scoffed, "That doesn’t even cover it. He loathes them. The mere idea of a captive especially from the Bluebeard market disgusts him." She pulled out a kaleidoscope, the type Sherry had only seen at fairs in distant villages in cinemas. The colors swirled hypnotically as Grace turned it to catch the light. "So, have you two met before?" she asked, though her attention was sti
Last Updated : 2024-10-15The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Find her now
Dallion had just wrapped up a tense meeting with one of the magistrates from two towns over about a pending case on one of their Mafia who had a pending case. He had made sure the magistrate had understood him clearly and there was no way the old magistrate was going to act against him. He leaned back in his black luxury sedan, the vehicle slicing through the night with its tinted windows concealing him from the world outside. Rain pounded mercilessly against the car, not the gentle, soothing kind, but like a strong and a fierce downpour that seemed to fall straight from the depths of hell. The slick, wet streets reflected the streetlights like shattered glass. In the front seat, his driver wore a black leather jacket, collar raised high to protect his neck from the biting cold. His eyes, hidden behind dark aviators, flicked from side to side as he navigated through the rain-soaked streets. Every raindrop that hit the windshield was wiped away with mechanical precision, but the st
Last Updated : 2024-10-16The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Time for your punishment
Nickison gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat at his master's question. What was he going to reply? "Answer quickly, Nickison. Don't keep me waiting here," Dallion spoke to him intimidatingly. His voice still in an even tone, never raised until now. The few years he had worked for this man in this very mansion as the butler, Nickison had not once heard him raise his voice. But maybe if he had, it would be less dangerous than the smiling expression now directed at him, sending chills through his bones. Nickison bowed deeply, hoping his master wouldn’t cut his neck off for this simple mistake. "Master Dallion, Lady Grace had the girl out of the room when I was asked to supervise the kitchen," he explained. As simple as the matter was, a lot of powerful people like Dallion didn’t leave room for mistakes. He held his breath, waiting to hear the young master of the Cross empire mansion say something.
Last Updated : 2024-10-17The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Is the punishment enough
Sherryl Rain stood in the rain, her eyelashes dripping with the water that slid from her wet hair to her forehead, then down to her eyes. If she hadn't been sure before, now there was no doubt: the man who had bought her off the black market was a devil. Dallion was cold and evil, with no trace of humanity in his soul. It wasn't just the darkness that surrounded them—the rain blurred her vision, making it hard to tell weeds from plants. When she crouched down, pulling out weeds by mistake, she realized she had also yanked out some of the good plants, which Dallion had already planned to punish her for further. But, just as Dallion had said, the rain finally let up, leaving only the cold wind to lash against her, making her shiver in the drenched dress that clung to her body, heavy and cumbersome from all the water it had absorbed. Now able to see the garden more clearly, she glanced down at the ruined plants and grimaced internally. Kill me now, she thought. Hiding the good ones
Last Updated : 2024-10-18The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Have you learned your lesson?
Sherry was staring at Dallion, listening to his serious words about the plants in front of them. The topic had shifted from the weeds to the plants she had mistakenly pulled out. There was a certain earnestness in his voice, as if he had planted them himself. Narcissist, she thought. This was her punishment, but here he was, crouching next to her, though in far better condition. Her drenched clothes clung to her body, heavy with moisture, and she felt like she was freezing in the middle of winter. She glanced at his muddy hands, which were busy replanting the uprooted plant. "Did you get it?" he asked, flicking his hand across her forehead, sending specks of mud onto her nose. "Stop daydreaming and staring at me. I know I’m handsome." Narcissist man, Sherry thought again, only to see Dallion narrow his eyes as if he had heard her. Could he read her mind? She gulped when his intense gaze didn’t leave her face. "I apologize for my rudeness," she said, ducking her head, wishing his
Last Updated : 2024-10-19
Latest chapter
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Tell me
Days went by, Sheryl attended her lessons during the day while Dallion was at work and during the night Dallion didn't leave her alone . Today Sheryl decided to take a good look outside towards the vast sea beneath her, she was standing at the lobby suddenly she felt someone behind her, and before she could look back, she was suddenly pushed down.Below Cross Empire’s grand estate, the water was bone-chilling, making it harder for Sherryl Rain to move as she flailed her arms, desperate to stay above the surface. For someone like her, who had never been taught how to swim in deep water, the situation was dire. Each splash felt futile, her strength waning as exhaustion clawed at her. The mansion’s staff, preoccupied with their tasks inside the sprawling estate, remained blissfully unaware of her plight. Sherryl couldn’t help but wonder—had someone pushed her? She was sure she hadn’t leaned far enough to fall, yet the eerie sensation of hands at her back lingered. Her head tilted back,
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
