A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 111 – 120

A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 111 – 120

A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL 3

LUCIFER SMILE.

I leaned back in my chair, a calm satisfaction spreading over me as I held the document out for her, feathered pen beside it.

I watched as Selene approached, hesitant but determined, her hand trembling slightly as she took the pen and leaned in to sign away the last trace of her freedom.

The moment her name curved across the parchment, it was done. Her soul, finally mine. I smiled, amused by how easy it had been to coax her into this moment.

She stepped back, letting the pen slip from her fingers, but her attention drifted away from me. Her gaze found Liam, standing nearby, his face a mask of confusion. He looked around the room, eyes finally settling on Selene as if she were the answer he couldn’t comprehend.

“Who… who is she?” he asked, his voice hollow, as if he were speaking through a fog. Selene’s reaction was predictable, exactly as I’d hoped—she turned to me, eyes pleading and desperate, caught between disbelief and hope.

I couldn’t help but shrug, leaning into the moment. “To him, I’m just a friend,” I said, my voice light but edged with a certain satisfaction. “It was remarkably easy to take your place, Selene. I could even make him fall in love with me if I wished.” I smirked, my eyes narrowing as I watched the hurt flicker across her face. “But unfortunately, I don’t have a taste for men.”

“Lucifer,” she said, voice shaking, barely containing the desperation creeping into her tone. “You already have what you want. Let him go.”

Her plea only deepened my amusement, and I felt a frown tug at my lips as I toyed with her hopes a little longer. “Let him go?” I repeated, feigning a moment of consideration. “Ah, Selene, that’s where the reality fails you. I don’t think you understand—bringing back the dead isn’t something I can do. I’m not God. Only my father handles such… miracles.”

She froze, realization dawning slowly, painfully. “What… what are you saying?” Her voice faltered as she stumbled closer, hands coming up to grip my collar, eyes wild. “You promised… you said you could bring him back!” Her hands shook as she gripped me, her gaze fixed on mine, searching for any hint of the truth she didn’t want to see.

I held her stare, unflinching. “I told you what I needed to, Selene,” I replied, each word laced with cold amusement. “But I am not God. If you want Liam back for real, well… you’ll have to beg God for that.”

Her grip slackened, and she took a step back, as if my words had struck her harder than any physical blow. “You lied to me,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“You tricked me just to make me sign that?” She turned to look at Liam, desperate, her hope clinging to the illusion I’d crafted. “Please… please tell me he is real.” She looked back to me, her eyes pleading, the pain so thick it would have crushed anyone lesser.

Weakness. I could practically taste it on her.

“Of course he’s real,” I lied smoothly, letting her cling to her last thread of hope. I watched as her expression softened, as she allowed herself a moment of relief.

She wanted to believe it so badly; humans always did. My created illusion of Liam took a few steps back, looking between us before he turned, heading out of the mansion, just beyond her reach.

Her shoulders sagged, and a fragile smile slipped onto her face as she watched him go, believing, hoping, needing him to be real. And then, he was gone.

The truth, though? Liam was never here. I had no power over bringing him back, I am not my father.

I let the silence settle around us, basking in the faint echo of her desperation. Watching Selene struggle with the lie I’d fed her, I marveled at the irony, how easy it was to manipulate those so bound to their human attachments. Weak, predictable—she was willing to believe anything if it meant feeling him close again.

“Where… where did he go?” she asked, her voice small, almost lost as her eyes lingered on the empty doorway.

I tilted my head, studying her, amused by her frantic attempt to understand. “Oh, he’ll be back,” I assured, feigning a note of sympathy. “But that’s not what matters right now, is it?” I gestured at the contract, the elegant, damning swirl of her name across its surface. “You should be more concerned with what you’ve given me.”

Her gaze snapped back to the document, and I saw it—the slow, dawning horror as reality started to seep through her fragile hope. “So this… this was all just to make me sign it?” Her voice barely managed a whisper, the betrayal twisting her expression.

I smirked. “What can I say, Selene? A soul like yours doesn’t come easy. Sometimes, one has to be… persuasive.”

“You’re cruel,” she breathed, the words thick with fury and pain. Her hands clenched at her sides, and I could see her fighting to contain herself, to hold onto some shred of control.

I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Cruel?” I echoed, feigning offense. “Cruel would’ve been letting you suffer without any relief, killing him over and over again in your eyes”

She seemed to shrink at my words, her bravado melting into a raw, hollow despair. She took a shaky breath, her eyes searching mine one last time, as though hoping to find something redeeming hidden there. But she found nothing.

Her face fell, and I saw her slip further into the quiet acceptance that all humans eventually found when they realized how powerless they truly were.

A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 111 – 120

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