The Devil Who Claimed Me

Valentina stormed into Mila’s room, her fury barely concealed.

Mila, caught off guard, lifted her head slightly. When she saw who it was, she looked away.

"Aren’t you tired of all this?" Valentina snapped. "Attempting suicide now? To force Dominic?"

"I didn’t try to force him," Mila countered. "I just wanted to see him, to talk to him."

"And so you chose a hunger strike? You are selfish."

Mila glared at her, clearly annoyed.

"You only thought about yourself. Did you ever wonder where Dominic has been these days? What was he doing? Did you ask if he was okay?"

Valentina snorted. "I don’t think so. You might have overwhelmed him with your demands."

Mila wanted to counter, but before she could open her mouth, Valentina spoke again.

"He almost died. A bullet hit him."

Mila felt her scalp go numb. For a moment, everything went still. The thought of him being injured unsettled her, no matter how much she despised him.

"But you wouldn’t care. All you want is your freedom. You know... to keep you safe, he is eliminating all the threats out there. In this process, he got injured. But you don’t see it. You only force him to give you what you want."

"I am forcing him?" Mila shot back. "I am locked here like a prisoner. And you think I can force someone?"

"Stop playing the victim," Valentina warned. "If you cause any more trouble, you will have to deal with me. And I assure you, Dominic won’t come to save you."

She went out, anger trailing behind her like fire.

Mila clasped the bedsheet, fury churning inside her.

"I am not afraid of you," she muttered.

When she recalled that Dominic was injured, her chest tightened.

’A bullet hit him.’ That thought circled back in her mind.

She had thought he had been ignoring meeting her, and that was why she had refused to eat anything, but she didn’t know he had been on a mission these days.

"He was injured. Why didn’t he tell me?" she whispered thoughtfully.

Then she suddenly realized she was worried about him. It felt wrong.

He was her captor – the man who kidnapped her, controlled her freedom. Why would she care about him?

She shook her head as if trying to throw the concern out of her head.

"It’s none of my business."

If he got hurt, what did it have to do with her?

Nothing – absolutely nothing.

But Valentina’s words echoed in her head: ’He could have died.’

Her brows drew together. She remembered the way he stood in front of her earlier. He was cold, composed, and carrying that intimidating aura. It was as if nothing had happened.

There had been no sign of pain. Had he really ignored his pain just to see her?

Her chest tightened again, this time more painfully.

"No. He didn’t come to check on me. He came to control me."

She had not forgotten what he had said. Dominic wouldn’t open the door and let her go out. He enjoyed seeing her in a helpless state.

Yet a contradicting feeling emerged in her heart. He looked worried when he saw her lying weak on the bed. And the anger in his voice – how could she forget that?

’He was indeed worried.’

Besides, he had stayed until she finished the soup.

"Why? Why did he hide his pain from me? He should have told me. Why pretend it was nothing?"

’Why do you care?’ a voice echoed inside her.

He chose this life, this violence. If he got injured, that was the consequence of his own actions.

She gritted her teeth. "He deserves it."

Even though she acted as if she didn’t care, the ache settled in her chest. Her gaze drifted toward the door. Beyond it, somewhere in the mansion, he might still be working with that wound.

A flicker of unease passed through her. What if it got worse? What if...

She sucked in a deep breath. "Stop it," she muttered, pressing her fingers on her temples. "Stop thinking about him. I can’t – I won’t fall for him."

But the lingering concern refused to disappear, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few more days passed. Dominic remained in the mansion, resting. His wound started to heal, though not fully.

Mila, on the other hand, had grown quiet. She didn’t demand to see him, nor did she cause any trouble. She obediently ate her meals and regained her strength slowly.

One morning, she sat by the window, gazing outside. It had become a habit, watching the sea, though she could never reach it.

A soft knock broke the silence.

A maid came in. "Miss, Mr. Russo wants to see you. He asked you to come to his study."

Mila’s heart skipped a beat. ’Is he letting me out?’

She stood up immediately, unable to hide the excitement in her eyes. Without wasting another second, she followed the maid.

The maid ushered her inside the study and closed the door softly. Mila’s steps slowed when she saw Dominic sitting behind a large desk, going through some papers.

The moment their eyes met, her breath caught. Something inside her stomach fluttered. She didn’t want to admit it, but seeing him again brought a strange sense of relief. It was as if she had been waiting for this.

Her fingers clasped the sides of her dress.

’No.’ She shut that thought down instantly.

She reminded herself that she wanted her freedom, not him. Making her face stern, she stepped forward.

"Have you lifted my punishment?" she asked directly.

Dominic didn’t answer. He stood up and strode toward her. His tall, imposing aura forced her to step back until her back hit the wall.

Dominic’s hand came behind her head, worried she would hurt herself.

The sudden closeness made her gasp. Her heartbeat roared in her ears. He was close – too close.

"You recovered well." His finger tilted her chin upward. "That day, you looked pale. And now..." His gaze lingered on her face. "There is color again."

His thumb brushed lightly over her cheek. "Is it because you have been eating properly these days?" He leaned over even closer and whispered in her ear. "Or are you blushing?"

Mila’s face burned. She could feel the heat rising. But she would never admit it. She pushed against his chest.

"Answer me," she demanded. "Are you still going to keep me locked in that room?"

He smirked. "I already let you out, didn’t I?"

He stepped back and lit up a cigarette.

Mila’s eyes sparkled with hope. "So, I won’t be locked up anymore?"

"Hmm..." He exhaled a slow stream of smoke. "But I have a condition."

She stiffened, the light in her eyes dimming. "What condition?"

"You will serve me from now on. Every night."