Episode 7
Aria sat in the back seat of Lucien's limousine, staring out the tinted window as the city lights streaked by. Her mind was a storm — turbulent, relentless, refusing to calm even as the night deepened.
Lucien hadn't spoken a word since they left the gala.
Not after that kiss.
Not after that warning.
Not even when he helped her into the car like a perfect gentleman — one who had just pinned her to a wall and stolen her breath away.
Her fingers curled into the silky fabric of her dress. Every second in the silence made her want to scream.
"You're angry," she finally said.
Lucien didn't look at her. "I don't get angry. I get even."
"Funny. Because it feels like you're sulking."
That made his jaw twitch. "Watch your tone."
She turned to him, her voice like steel. "No. I'm tired of being polite to a man who treats me like property. You kissed me like I mattered and then shut me out like I didn't."
His eyes finally met hers — cold, calculating, unreadable.
"You do matter," he said. "But that doesn't mean you get to defy me."
"I'm your wife, not your prisoner."
"You're both."
That shut her up.
The car pulled into the circular driveway of the Blackwood estate — a vast gothic mansion that looked like it belonged in a haunted fairytale. Aria had never gotten used to its towering spires or the way shadows danced across its windows.
As they entered the grand foyer, the butler bowed silently. Neither spoke. Lucien strode ahead, removing his cufflinks, shedding his jacket, commanding the silence like it was another weapon.
Aria followed, her heels echoing like defiance against the marble floor.
He turned sharply at the base of the grand staircase. "Why did you defend him?"
"Adrian?" she asked. "Because you were ready to cause a scene. And I don't want our private drama to become public scandal."
Lucien stepped closer, towering over her. "Or was it because you liked the attention?"
Her hand slapped his face before she even realized it.
The crack echoed in the foyer like a gunshot.
Lucien's head turned with the force of it, but he didn't flinch. Slowly, he turned back to her, a dangerous calm spreading over his features.
"You're brave tonight," he said quietly.
"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered. "You think you can control me with money and threats? You think just because you bought me, I'll play the perfect doll for your enemies to admire?"
"You are not a doll," he said. "You're a blade. That's why I chose you."
She blinked. "What?"
Lucien stepped even closer, until only a breath separated them. "Do you think I picked you at random? That I found you in that broken apartment and decided to make you my wife out of pity?"
"You said you needed a pawn."
"I need a queen," he corrected. "Someone who doesn't flinch when faced with wolves. Someone who looks Seraphina in the eye and doesn't crumble. Someone who slaps me and lives to tell about it."
Aria's chest rose and fell. "Why me?"
Lucien looked at her — really looked at her.
"Because you have nothing to lose," he said. "And that makes you dangerous."
Silence fell again.
This time, not of anger — but of understanding.
And yet…
"That doesn't give you the right to control my every move," she said. "You can't lock me away."
"I won't," he replied. "But I'll protect what's mine."
"I'm not yours."
He leaned in, his voice a low murmur against her cheek. "Not yet."
Her breath caught.
Before she could respond, he stepped back. "Come with me."
"Where?"
He didn't answer. Just turned and walked.
With hesitation tightening her stomach, she followed him down the long hallway — past the private study, past the ballroom that hadn't been used in years, down to the farthest wing of the mansion.
They stopped at a heavy oak door with an old-fashioned lock. Lucien pulled a key from his pocket and opened it.
Inside was a vault.
But it wasn't gold or jewels that glittered here.
It was information.
Books, ledgers, documents… photos.
Aria stepped inside, and her breath hitched. There were surveillance pictures — of her, her apartment, her old life. Newspaper clippings. Medical reports. Bank accounts. Even her old phone records.
"You've been spying on me," she whispered.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I had to know who you really were."
She spun toward him. "So you stalked me?"
"I investigated you," he corrected coldly. "I had to be sure you were clean. Untouched. Loyal. Hungry."
"And what did you find?"
Lucien crossed the room, opened a drawer, and pulled out a small folder.
He handed it to her.
Inside were pictures of her mother's hospital bills. Denials from charity foundations. Letters she'd written begging for help.
"You were willing to sell yourself for someone you loved," he said. "That makes you different."
Aria swallowed the lump in her throat. "That makes me desperate, not different."
He tilted his head. "You don't get it, do you? Everyone in my world wears a mask. They lie, cheat, kill, and smile doing it. But you — you bleed honestly."
She didn't know whether to feel flattered or insulted.
"Why are you showing me this now?" she asked.
"Because it's time for the next part of our deal."
She tensed. "What deal?"
Lucien leaned against the table, watching her.
"I didn't just marry you to flaunt you," he said. "There's someone I need to take down. And I need a partner to do it."
Aria stared at him. "What are you talking about?"
He opened another file and tossed it on the table. A man's face stared up at her — older, slick, smiling in a photo taken at a gala.
"Leonard Vale," Lucien said. "Adrian's father."
Aria blinked. "Wait… Vale? As in the hospital board chairman?"
Lucien nodded. "The man who denied your mother treatment. Who refused your scholarship. Who bankrupted your life — just because your father once exposed his dirty deals."
Aria's blood turned cold.
"You're lying."
"Check the documents," Lucien said. "You'll see. He erased your father's name from records. Got him fired. Then blacklisted your family. He's the reason you grew up begging."
She opened the file with trembling fingers.
It was all there.
Proof.
Dates. Memos. Signed orders.
She stumbled back.
"I… I didn't know…"
"I did," Lucien said. "And I want revenge. I want his empire crumbling. I want his secrets exposed. But I can't do it alone."
Aria looked up, heart pounding. "And you want me to help you."
"You'll be the perfect weapon," he said. "Because no one suspects the beautiful wife of the Devil."
She should've run.
She should've said no.
But the fire that had been burning in her since her mother died — since her childhood was ripped from her — flared to life.
"I want to destroy him," she whispered. "I want him to know what it feels like to lose everything."
Lucien smiled — not the charming mask, but a real, wicked smile.
"Then let's begin."
They shook hands — a devil's pact sealed not with blood, but shared vengeance.
And from that moment, Aria Elwood was no longer just the Devil's bride.
She was his partner in ruin.
💥 To be continued…
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