DEVIL:
My pet panther, Rii, purred as I stroked his sleek head, the moonlight casting eerie shadows over us. He'd just devoured a large piece of meat for dinner, content, and now it was our usual bonding time—an unspoken ritual in the darkness. The stars and the moon were the only light, reflecting the one bright thing in my world: my Estrellita.
Rio lay at my feet, gazing up at the night sky, while I sat back in my chair, my hand gliding over his smooth, black fur. The sensation soothed me, grounding the storm brewing inside.
"What do you think, Rio? Is she thinking about me right now? About how I made her pussy throb?" I chuckled, recalling the way her face contorted in ecstasy when I made her come. I'd trade the world to see that look on her face every day.
The memory of her lips wrapped around my cock, the way she moaned, her body drenched with need... she craved to be owned, bruised, marked as mine. I'd collected my due. And soon enough, my Estrellita would realize just how much she enjoyed being in my debt.
Lost in thoughts of her, my phone buzzed, pulling me back. The headline flashed across the screen:
"Another psychopath in town? Or has the savior turned into the killer?"
An image of my Estrellita appeared next to that of Helia—the woman who had finally met the death she deserved.
"Dr. Helia's body was found at the Brown mansion, with Anastasia Brown as the prime suspect," the report droned. "But Detective David confirmed no evidence was found linking her to the crime. Stabbed 29 times and her throat slit—revenge, perhaps? Stay tuned for more updates."
"Mine," I growled under my breath, watching the screen intently. Anastasia's video played—her long black hair tumbling down, her wide, innocent eyes clouded with fear and confusion.
"There's no line I wouldn't cross for her," I murmured to Rii, petting him with one hand, while my other gripped the phone tighter. "For her, love is about giving. But for me, love is about taking—taking what's mine, and taking everything from anyone who dares to harm what's mine"
Just then, one of my men walked in, his face tense. "Sir, there's news."
I turned my head slightly, a chill running through the room as the news hit. "Leo Hudson is here," my man announced.
I stormed into my office, my heart pounding with rage and anticipation. Finally, the prey had wandered into the lion's den. The game was about to begin.
Monty laid out the photos, one by one, showing Leo indulging in his sick pleasures—his endless parade of suitors, his visits to gentlemen's clubs, and the depravity he masked behind his charming facade. To the world, he was nothing but a flirty, rich man. But in reality, he was nothing but a monster—a predator with a weak heart who found joy in the suffering of innocent women & childreen.
Monty's voice was cold as he continued, "We also uncovered his latest venture—an island he recently purchased. He's been trafficking children from Africa, ages 10 to 16. Only one managed to escape... three days ago."
I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing. "Have you found her?"
"Yes, sir," Raven responded, stepping out of the shadows. She was my huntress—a blue-haired assassin with a baby face, yet lethal enough to eliminate anyone in a heartbeat. She was crucial in rescuing these women and children, her skills unmatched. "She's safe for now. I'm keeping an eye on her."
Before Raven could finish, a voice echoed through the room, freezing the air. "She is safe."
I turned, seeing Mark stride into the dimly lit space, a small girl walking beside him, her face a mix of fear and resolve. His grip on her shoulder was protective, yet gentle.
"She's ready to talk," Mark added, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
I looked into the little girl's eyes. She was the key to Leo's downfall. And now, the real hunt begins.
As we all sat around the table, Raven handed a glass of hot chocolate to the child. She was painfully thin, her small frame malnourished and fragile. My heart clenched at the sight. This is what they do—the Falcons.
To the world, the Falcons are supposedly gone, but the reality is far darker. They're a hidden organization, a dangerous network entrenched in every vice imaginable—drugs, human trafficking, kidnapping, illegal weapons. They thrive in the shadows, and despite our resources, our tech, and our relentless pursuit, the head of the organization, the elusive "Mr. X," remains a mystery.
Leo and Narco—they're part of this rot. We've caught them dealing with the Falcons time and time again, but without Mr. X, we're just hacking at the branches, not the root. We need someone who can lead us to him.
I leaned forward, offering a soft smile to the child. "Hi," I began gently. "What's your name?"
But she stayed silent, her wide eyes darting between us. I glanced at Mark, who was calmly sipping his espresso, his face blank and unreadable. "Mind lending a hand here?" I teased, though my tone carried more urgency than humor.
With a sigh, Mark set his cup down and spoke in his usual quiet tone. "Hey, little angel, don't be afraid. He's one of the good guys. We're here to help."
The girl looked up at him, her small face showing the first flicker of trust. She nodded slightly. "Amara," she whispered.
I was honestly shocked. How could piece of ass like him handle a kid so effortlessly? There had to be something off about it, something I was missing. But for now, I let it slide.
"Amara," I said softly. "Would you like to help us rescue your friends? We can get them out of that awful place."
Her confusion was immediate. Her brow furrowed, and she shifted behind Mark, her small body seeking refuge. "I don't want to go back," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
I knelt down to her level, making sure to keep my voice gentle but steady. "You don't have to, Amara. I promise, you'll never have to go back there again. But, just like you, there are others... other kids who need help. Did you have any friends there?"
She was silent for a moment, lost in thought, before she gave a small nod. "Sarah. She's my friend."
"Sarah," I repeated, feeling the weight of the name. "If you help me, I swear to you, I will bring Sarah back. I'll bring all of them back."
Her eyes searched mine, a mixture of hope and fear. She wanted to believe me, but she knew better than anyone that escaping that hell wasn't easy. She had managed it only because of a seizure that got her sent to a local hospital—one far enough from the island that she found a way out. Otherwise, the only exit was through the boat, heavily guarded by Leo's men.
Still, she looked at me from behind Mark, her voice soft but filled with the hope of a child who wanted to believe in promises. "Promise?"
I smiled at her, though my heart ached for the weight she carried. "Promise," I said, my voice firm. I meant it. We'd bring them back. All of them.
Mark and I observed as Raven, Monty, and Justin worked to help the kid open up. Justin had a natural way with children, likely because he ran the shelter. Meanwhile, Monty was already on the system, searching for the child's family before we sent her back.
"How's your mission going?" I asked Mark, who stood silently, sipping his coffee.
"Going well," he replied flatly.
I hummed, casting him a sidelong glance. "You seem a little too comfortable back in the game, don't you?" I taunted. "The girl's finally got you under her spell, huh?"
He didn't respond, but I knew Lara was more than just another girl to him. The bastard probably realized it too, deep down. But Mark was a rock—unmoving, unyielding. He needed to be carved, and I was determined to make it happen.
"How's Charlie?" he asked.
A slow smirk tugged at my lips. "Handled."