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You know me well
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2024-11-11 12:33:21Sherryl’s thoughts drifted back to Dallion’s words, the crackling of the fire filling the silence between them. Mr. Cruise, spineless and shallow, was like a thorn in her memory. She found herself almost angry at how easy it was for men like him to walk away from promises and shatter hearts without a second thought. A spark of resolve flickered in her eyes as she glanced at Dallion, who was still watching her, that rare softness still lingering. She wondered, fleetingly, what secrets lay hidden behind his mask of iron—was he, too, a man capable of breaking hearts and walking away, or was he different?
Dallion’s eyes met hers, his lips quirking upward as though reading her mind. “You’re wondering if I’m like him,” he remarked, his voice low. It wasn’t a question. Sherryl blinked, feeling her cheeks flush. Was she that transparent?“Would it be wrong to wonder?” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant.His laughter was quiet, a mere huff of air, but it carriRelated chapters
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. lead the way
"Not a thing," Dallion smirked, his gaze intense. "You doubt me too much, Sherryl. Maybe it's time you had a little faith in me." His smile was charming, yet chilling, a silent promise that made her wonder if he’d already planned a convenient place to bury her on the way to Cross empire's theater. Sherryl used the pause and the silence between them to apologize, tilting her head slightly, offering a gesture of sincerity. Her submission caught Dallion’s interest, his expression unreadable. "Sorry about the glass tube," she said quietly, careful with her tone. "I’ll be more cautious. I won’t touch anything here again." "Good to hear it. But know this, Sherryl," his voice softened, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "Break anything that belongs to the council, and we’ll both find ourselves under Cross’s scrutiny. They’d make you wish you hadn’t acted so carelessly." He leaned back, studying her with an amused glint.
Last Updated : 2024-11-12The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. That's the one
It had been too long since she last set foot here. Since her mother’s death, Sherryl Rain hadn’t returned. With her mother gone, there was nothing left to come back for. The few essential items that remained in the house had been sold in the street market by her aunt May and uncle Larry, she had known the items had passed through hands until they landed with someone who could sell them further. The money Sherryl had gained was carefully stashed away, safe—or so she had thought—in a nearby place where her aunt and uncle lived, though it was miles from this place. Nostalgia washed over Sherryl as she returned to this forgotten corner of her past, a place abandoned and hollow. The door was locked, a small mercy to keep what was left hidden from prying eyes. After she had left, the area magistrate had taken over the place, storing it under his department until they could demolish it for some new project. But for a neglected human street like this one, developme
Last Updated : 2024-11-13The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. one last chance to do the right thing
Dallion Noticing her absence, he quickly turned around, a sly smirk playing on his lips as his head cocked to one side. “Stay put if you want, little mouse, but I want you to retrieve the keys to your old home.” Keys? She frowned, puzzled. What could he possibly want with those? Before she could respond, he was already heading toward the magistrate’s door, his steps deliberate, his presence imposing against the quiet town backdrop. Inside, the magistrate lounged in an oversized leather chair that looked more worn than it was likely worth. His small, pointed mustache twitched as he counted through a stack of marked bills on his desk. The scent of stale cigars clung to the air, mixing with the faint dampness that the nearby canal brought. His corpulent figure pressed against the chair's armrests, his pudgy fingers splayed over a ledger detailing the villagers' taxes—taxes he’d skimmed, inflated, and rerouted to suit his whims and his wif
Last Updated : 2024-11-14The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Consider it you only warning
If the magistrate had thought everything was over and Dallion was just another busy body who had come by to cause ruckus, he was wrong.It was just seconds ago he'd stepped out, but it was also the same seconds he'd used to walk back in.This time Sheryl had walked in with him.After all they were here for the keys to her house.The dim, bluish glow from the neon lights outside was barely able to seep through the windows, shadowing the narrow office. The charged lamp on the desk flickered weakly, its flame dying out as if it too refused to illuminate the grim faces within the room. Dallion glanced at the man before him. whose round belly pressed against his too-tight belt, each movement slightly straining the fabric of his trousers. His thick, fur-lined coat draped over him in an attempt to stave off the creeping cold. It wasn’t the first time Dallion encountered a power-abusing official who grew fat off the backs of struggling communities.
Last Updated : 2024-11-15The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. You've lost that privilege
Hearing the crack and pop sound made Sherryl's eyes snap from looking at the man’s finger, which he now cradled as he collapsed to the floor, his back pressed against the table, whining and grimacing in agony. Sherryl’s gaze shifted from the magistrate to Dallion, who maintained an unnervingly calm demeanor as if he hadn't just inflicted excruciating pain to someone. It seemed that Dallion took particular pleasure in tormenting people's fingers; the sound resonated in the now dim room, where the atmosphere had turned dark and cold. Her heart raced, but it wasn't fear that fueled the rhythm, this time round it was sheer disbelief. With the way Rose had contorted and twisted her arm a week ago, Sherryl had always known that Dark mafias were strong and merciless, but to crush a human's bone with just a few fingers was another matter entirely. It had seemed impossible before, but witnessing it firsthand made her body tremble slightly a
Last Updated : 2024-11-16The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Hand on the wall
Sherryl had never done anything to provoke them, yet the resentment seemed to have deep roots, tangled and hidden in her past. Ever since she was a child, her mere presence was treated like a bad omen. After her father’s abrupt disappearance, she and her mother had been ostracized, left to fend for themselves. All she had wanted back then was to fit in, to be like the other kids, to have friends. But over time, she learned to avoid the stones hurled at her and the cruel words thrown even more viciously. That’s when she stopped trying to be accepted, resigning herself to being an outcast alongside her mother, unwanted and unseen. A faint shuffle drew her attention back inside, where Dallion was standing by the door, his gaze fixed on something in the night sky. "Clearer skies here compared to the city. Must be the lack of traffic and noise," he murmured, his voice soft yet unmistak
Last Updated : 2024-11-17The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. It's nothing
Sherry shrugged, feigning indifference. “People in power are all the same, they take what they can, whenever they can.” “True,” he murmured, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. “But remember, even those who think they’re untouchable always have someone above them, a bigger fish ready to devour them when they get out of line.” He took another long puff, letting the smoke curl through the cold air. “Master Dallion…” Sherry hesitated before finally asking, “Why did you... why did you decide to buy me?” The question had haunted her since the day she had asked him the very same question, the enigmatic mafia boss with a reputation for ruthlessness. She couldn’t shake the words she'd overheard about his supposed hatred for captives, especially after what had happened to a close friend of his. For a moment, he said nothing, simply watching her as though weighing his response.
Last Updated : 2024-11-18The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. I have no idea what your talking about
"I have no idea what you’re talking about, Master Dallion,” Sherry replied, her voice steady, while her heart beat against her chest like a warning bell. She fought to keep her pulse hidden from his sharp eyes, knowing well how closely he was observing her. Dallion’s smile remained unmoved, a wicked glint dancing in his eyes that made her wary of his intentions. He took a step forward, closer than she liked, murmuring, “Shall we retrace the moment that made those cheeks of yours go crimson? You're quite the little mouse, aren’t you? Oh, excuse me, my bad. Big mouse,” he added, his tone mockingly apologetic. “I'm a kind master, after all. Who else would tailor a name specifically for their captive, hmm?” “Could you please avoid calling me that?” She gave a slight frown, finding his words unnervingly odd yet infuriating. She knew he was playing with her, trying to get under her skin. “But didn’t you protest when I called y
Last Updated : 2024-11-19
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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
