All Chapters of The Devil's Mistress: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

ROXANNE POV They never saw it coming—twelve men, twelve bodies and I hadn't even laid a finger on them. The house always felt like it was holding its breath, suffocating and still, like it was waiting for something to go wrong.A car accident took my mother's life when I was twelve and in its aftermath, I ended up in the care of Garry, my stepfather. Not just any stepfather. Garry was the relentless leader of the Goons Gang. My memories of that time were fractured, like scattered puzzle pieces I couldn't quite put together. I'd survived the crash, but not unscathed. I'd woken up from a coma with no memory of the accident, or much of my childhood.Garry had filled in the gaps; telling me about a father I couldn't remember, a man who had been sentenced to life for murder.I hadn't known enough to question it and even if I had, who could I turn to? For the last five years, my life has been a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.Garry flat-out refused to pay for any medical treatment

ROXANNE POV The cool evening air brushed against my skin as I walked down the block, grocery bags in hand.My car—a dented old sedan I was still making payments on—sat a few blocks away.A nagging feeling crept over me as if someone was following me and I glanced over my shoulder. Something felt off.Instead of heading toward my car, I kept walking, tightening my grip on the grocery bags. The block wasn't completely deserted, but it was sparse enough that help would be hard to find.Then I saw it—the small diner where I've been working the night shift, its neon sign glowing faintly in the distance. It was tucked into a quiet corner of the block.I headed straight for it, quickening my pace without breaking into a full run. As I neared the entrance, I caught sight of a few people inside, their voices faintly audible even through the glass. Relief washed over me. Pushing the door open, I was greeted by the familiar clang of the bell above it. The owner, Gladys, stood behind the co

ROXANNE POV Three days. It had been three long days since I let Angelina and her father into my cramped apartment, three days of trying to hold everything together, to pretend like life hadn’t just flipped itself upside down. I stood at the stove, flipping a pancake, the scent of warm batter filling the small kitchen. My gaze flicked over my shoulder, catching Angelina watching me with quiet curiosity. Her little fingers tapped against the counter in a rhythm only she seemed to understand, her bright eyes tracking my every move. Despite everything, she’d adjusted surprisingly well. Too well. There were moments when I caught her humming to herself, swinging her legs as if we weren’t holed up in a tiny apartment. And Raphaël…he still hadn’t woken up fully. He’d stirred a few times, muttering words I couldn’t quite make out before slipping under again. The fever had broken last night and that was the only reason I’d let myself breathe. The private doctor I managed

ROXANNE POV "Daddy!" Angelina’s excited giggle floated through the air as I stood at the sink, my hands buried in soapy water. Turning around, I spotted Raphaël stepping into the kitchen, his tall frame filling the doorway. Angel clung to his feet, giggling as he shuffled forward. Our gazes met briefly and for a split second, there was a strange tension in the air. He placed a phone on the counter, breaking the silence. "I borrowed your phone to make a call." He explained, his tone matter-of-fact. His eyes drifted to Angelina, his expression softening. "Wait, what?" I frowned, drying my hands quickly with a dish towel. Picking up the phone, I stared at the lock screen. "How did you even access my phone? It’s locked." I held it up, arching a brow. Raphaël lifted Angelina effortlessly into his arms, his movements calm and fluid as she nestled against him. "I have my ways." He replied, his voice carrying an unbothered confidence. His vague response didn’t sit well wi

ROXANNE POV His hand gripped my neck—not tight enough to choke but enough to make his point. His other hand pressed against the fridge just above my shoulder, trapping me. My mouth parted in shock, my eyes locking with his. The sly smirk curving his lips sent a shiver down my spine. "Don’t toy with me, kitten." He murmured, the nickname laced with sarcasm. "Kitten...funny, isn’t it? Something so small and harmless, yet trying to claw its way out of trouble." His smirk widened. "But if I find out you’re lying..." He leaned in, his voice a low, dangerous whisper near my ear, "...well, let’s just say tearing you to pieces won’t be off the table." The words sent a chill through me, but it wasn’t just the threat that had my stomach twisting. It was the way his gaze dropped to my lips and back to my eyes, predatory and unnervingly calm. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the glint in his eyes reminded me too much of Kendrick and Garry. That same quiet menace, the kind