Saturday, six p.m.

"She's sixteen, Sof. Her name's Lena."

Billy's voice wavered with emotion. He paced the Airbnb's living room, gripping the phone to his ear while raking his hair with the other hand. "Yeah. What they did. It sticks."

Damian sat across the room, laptop open, sleeves rolled to the elbows, fingers flying over the keyboard. He pulled Nina Skov's financials, real estate holdings, and a shell company linked to H. Lund.

Billy kept going. "Lena didn't stand a chance. The system gave her away. Barnevern, the child protection services, pulled her from her mother and handed her to a couple who sold her to Mike and Nina. The social worker who made the placement? She took a payout."

He stopped pacing. "You and Astrid need what exactly?"

Damian looked up. His screen reloaded slowly, the page on registry documents spinning like gears.

Billy's voice dropped. "Right, you want the names. Cecilie Sørensen. That's the social worker. The couple? Frank and Vilde Berg."

He paused, listening to Sofia, then exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Astrid's cross-checking it all? Good. You two pulled an all-nighter with the team? Didn't sleep much myself."

"Thinking about you helped." His voice lowered, heat curling at the edges. "Especially your voice."

Damian coughed into his fist and shot him a look. "Tell Sofia what else Lena said. You can play Romeo and whisper sweet nothings later."

Billy ignored him. "More trafficked victims are coming to Paradise tonight. Some were pulled from refugee camps. Others were promised au pair jobs. Hotel work. A few were sold by their own families."

He stopped beside the dining table, one hand clamped on the back of a chair. "Mike and Nina are bringing boys, too."

His jaw tightened as he listened to Sofia. "When? Got it. We're out in an hour. Damian goes for Chloe first. Remember, Mike will be there. Nina organized a meeting between him and Kasper."

His voice softened before hanging up. "You got the drop-point, right? Everything I sent? Good. I'll see you soon, sweetheart."

Damian smirked as he watched Billy tuck the phone in his pocket. "Does your sweetheart and Astrid have backup?"

"Full force," Billy said. "Astrid's pulled strings with the Stavanger police department. Half the task force is ex-military. No red tape. She and Sof planned it like a war room op. We're green-lit."

Damian half-smiled. "Good. We're going in alone first, right?"

"We're the bait," Billy said. "They pull the trigger."

The laptop screen glowed in the dim light, now showing Skov's registry information.

Damian turned it toward Billy. "Guess who Nina's husband is."

Billy grabbed a chair and sat, facing Damian. "I found it earlier today and informed Sof. Nina's not just running Paradise. She married its shield. Harald Lund."

Damian sneered. "Chief of police in Jørpeland. One to toss in the North Sea?"

Billy shook his head. "This one stays alive. Sof and Astrid are bringing him down tonight. Internal Affairs has been itching to burn him."

Damian snapped the laptop shut. "I'll prep what we need."

Just as he stood, his phone vibrated on the table—no name. Just a string of numbers.

Billy shrugged. "I shared your contact information with Nick. He forwarded it to your father, mentioning Vera's been extremely worried."

Damian answered the call. "Yeah?"

Alistair's voice tore through the line. "Goddammit, Damian. Do you have any idea how stressed Vera and I are? You could've passed a message through Billy that you're fine. She's half out of her mind."

"Tell Mom I'm still breathing. How's Dawn? Did you visit her at Glenn and Ida's?"

Alistair's breathing slowed. "We stopped by. She misses you. Kept asking for Dadda and wouldn't let go of the stuffed bunny. Vera read her the puppy book. Twice."

Damian leaned forward, the phone against his mouth.

"Tell her..." He blinked back tears, his voice choking. "Tell her Mommy's alive. And she's coming home."

"You found Chloe?" Alistair questioned.

"I found the gates of hell, where they're bringing her. And I'm walking straight in."

The line went quiet. Not dead. Just heavy. Then Alistair spoke, quieter this time.

"Angelo talk to you before you left?"

"He did."

"You said yes?"

"I didn't have to. It was always going to be me."

"So Chase continues living a sheltered life."

"That's the point. He inherits most of his uncle's fortune, but I call the shots, profit well, and the justice system looks the other way. That's how it'll be."

"You've already got your hands full with SQ Enterprise—brunches, boardrooms, press, travel, fundraisers, and political events. You'll need someone on the ground for The Platinum Club and Angelo's businesses."

"I've got her."

"Who?"

"Val."

"She's smart but doesn't have your cunning," Alistair said. "That dark, cruel streak—like your uncle. Like your mother. She's not you."

"No one is, but she's strong and resilient. She has what it takes to manage the whole damn show," Damian replied. "She'll be a partner. She's perfect."

***

Chloe arrived at Paradise at seven p.m. sharp, an hour after Lucifer shoved a sedative past her lips.

She staggered in stilettos too slick for marble. The world swayed. Her head felt weightless, limbs airy and slack, like her bones were traded for helium. Lucifer swept her coat off as if they were entering a designer launch party. A security guard shoved open the double doors, and the glow swallowed her whole.

Beyond the doors, the air shifted—thicker, hotter, and perfumed with incense. The hallway was a fever dream: Egyptian motifs slapped across black stone, and red silk choking marble columns. Gold snake statues lined the corridor, jeweled eyes gleaming with unnatural life.

The corridor led to an open space, a Roman-style bathing den pulsing with bodies. Women sparkled and gleamed with glitter and body oil, moaning into faceless mouths. One wore a pearl crown and a strap-on. Another rode a masked client like she was forced, her eyes hollow and her movements on autopilot.

This place?

Hell wrapped in gold leaves.

Chloe swallowed. It felt like walking into a sacrifice.

Bodies writhed, sucked, and strained in rhythm. Some had faces too soft, bodies too slight—girls and boys who should've been in classrooms, not here. Clients gasped on velvet couches while seductresses in wigs and pierced nipples circled them, dragging out the pleasure until it blurred into torment.

Not that Chloe had room to judge. She was nude, glistening in oil, her pubic mound freshly shaved. Silvery-white angel wings were strapped to her bare shoulders.

If this place had a god, he wasn't the forgiving kind.

"Nina, this is Nora," Egil said, leaning in to kiss a stunning siren who approached them.

Chloe blinked.

The woman towered above her, reminding her of Queen Nefertiti of ancient Egypt. Her cropped mahogany hair grazed her high cheekbones. Her skin glowed like burnished cocoa beneath the low light, and her green-amber eyes, lined in black kohl, flashed with feline sharpness.

Nina Skov.

Lucifer had mentioned her several times earlier, speaking highly of the brothel owner. She moved like a queen who enjoyed starting wars, more dangerous than Helen of Troy.

"Nice to meet you, Nora," the goddess said. "Egil's told me a lot about you."

Chloe instantly despised her. She narrowed her eyes. "My name's not fucking Nora. It's Chloe Carter. My husband, Damian Scott, will kill you and Lucifer here."

Nina raised an eyebrow. "Lucifer?"

"She calls me that all the time. No idea why," he said with a grin, brushing the back of his hand along Nina's hair. "Love your new cut. Short hair suits you."

"Unexpected. But it works," she replied.

Egil caressed Nina's arm. "Your husband coming tonight?"

"Later. He and Mike are bringing in a few boys and girls for me to inspect."

"Will they join our little show?" Lucifer asked, staring at Chloe.

"It'll just be you and me, darling Egil," Nina purred. "The Enforcer's a real entertainer, though."

Chloe lifted her middle finger and smiled like a bitch in heels. "You want a slut's show with The Enforcer, huh?"

Nina reached out, tucking soft, fallen hair behind Chloe's ear. The touch was soft—fake sympathy. The threat behind it was colder than marble.

"Egil says you've been awful. Disrespectful. After everything he's given you?"

"I'm worth more than either of you can afford," Chloe retorted. "Let me ask. Are you close to Marino? I'd love to crush his balls with both hands. See if they pop."

Nina laughed, patting Chloe's cheek as if she were a kitten. "You're out of your league. I'm introducing you to a monster. The devil himself. The Enforcer won't show you mercy. After tonight, you'll bow to Egil and finally appreciate him."

Chloe tilted her head. Her eyes were hazy, but still sharp beneath the fog. The drug had numbed her panic. All she had left was bone-deep calm.

This was her rock bottom. But even here, in oil and wings, she hadn't broken. Let them underestimate her. That was the mistake everyone made.

If she died tonight, fine.

But Dawn's laugh as Damian cradled her, soft and muffled in memory, hit her like a slap. And Jo's voice, calm and steel-spined, whispered through the fog: Help will come.

She wasn't scared of pain anymore. But she was afraid of forgetting—Dawn's tiny voice and Damian's protectiveness. Fear wasn't always about survival. Sometimes, it was about memory.

Chloe exhaled. She needed that ounce of hope to believe she'd survive tonight.

"Hit me up with whatever you've got." She gave Egil and Nina a lopsided grin. "I'm looking forward to it."

Nina gently raised a fragile porcelain Venetian half-mask embellished with silver filigree. She placed it on Chloe's face, adjusting it for a secure fit.

"You look beautiful," she murmured, her breath sugar-sweet and rotting with power. "Perfect for The Enforcer. He's a charmer. Handsome."

Chloe glanced at Lucifer, catching the clenched jaw and the flare behind his blue eyes. Nina kissed his tight lips, whispering sweetness into his mouth. "Don't be jealous. He's doing you a favor. If she won't submit, we'll find you a better doll."

Egil's lips relaxed below his icy eyes. "Thank you, Nina. You're always considerate."

"And you're always generous." She kissed him again. "Remember, you're just as handsome as our Enforcer. Hold off on the envy."

"I doubt Nora will fall in love tonight, but some pain will be good for her." Egil's harsh laugh scraped the air.

Nina turned. "Come now," she said, gesturing for them to follow. "I'll take you to your special place in Paradise."

She leaned in to whisper against Chloe's ear, the heat of her breath all venom.

"His name is Kasper. Try not to disappoint him."

***

The door creaked open, revealing a dungeon—torment disguised as a hedonistic luxury of fetishes. Chloe breathed in wax, orange blossom, leather, and the sharp bite of cold metal.

Velvet walls bled red below thorn crown chandeliers. A burgundy silk-draped bed with black restraints sat in the room's center like a trap. Two thrones were stationed on the other end of the room, cuffs gaping. A Saint Andrew's cross stood on the left, surrounded by whips and floggers. Chains hung from the ceiling like hellish vines.

Two men in Colombina half-masks, etched with gold and crystal, arranged tools of torment with clinical precision on a table. One sorted syringes filled with glowing liquid. The other lifted a kanabō—thick, spiked, and lethal. Damian had shown it to her once, his hand steady on hers, walking her through the rules of dominance and submission.

A clear box sat on the floor beside them, subtle but pulsing with a silent threat. The tarantula inside crept forward, its legs delicate and slow.

Lucifer flinched.

Chloe laughed, slow and dark.

A Mexican redknee. Damian kept one in a terrarium in a dungeon at The Platinum Club. He'd taught her how to breathe through the fear and let it crawl across her bare breasts without panicking. He never forced her. Never mocked her. He let her choose when to let the delicate creature touch her. He'd take it in his hands if it became too much for her, letting it crawl on his arm and shoulder.

"Desensitization is the best way to eliminate fear," he'd said.

Chloe turned to Lucifer, who scratched his neck and arms as if his body were on fire. "Does that spider freak you out?"

He didn't respond. His eyes darted to the carrier and back.

Good. That little whisper of fear? That was nothing.

That spider wouldn't kill you.

But Damian would.

She focused on Nina, now speaking with the two men. Both were tall, athletic, and powerful. One had auburn hair and baby-blue eyes—handsome, unreadable, a stranger.

The other—taller, darker, and quieter—stole her breath. The way he moved, the stillness in his stance, the cut of his jaw under the mask... it struck her like déjà vu.

Not just an attraction.

Recognition hit her like a jolt. Her heart kicked once, hard.

Blue Eyes looked at Chloe briefly before turning away, as though his gaze bore shame for resting on her.

"Same blonde as last time?" he asked Nina.

"Same room. Your girl is waiting," she replied.

Blue Eyes nodded at the dark-haired man without saying a word as he left the room.

Nina turned back, slipping a lollipop into Chloe's hand. "A treat before pain. Spread your wings and lie on the bed, angel."

Lucifer grabbed her by the arm, shoving her onto the mattress. "Do what you're told, Nora. Or I'll make you scream."

Chloe laughed, soft and syrupy, then adjusted herself, dragging the lollipop from her tongue to her breasts as she sank into the pillows. She spread her legs wide, slowly, baring her pussy to the entire room like a gift in defiance.

She refused to give in to fear.

Her lips wrapped around the lollipop again, sucking with obscene precision. The cherry taste mixed with the burn in her throat. She plopped the candy out of her mouth, running it along her navel, then down to her shaven pussy.

"Want a show, Lucifer? I'll gladly give my life to The Enforcer. Let him break me. Snap me in half. Anything's better than your touch."

"Nora," Nina purred, turning toward the tall, dark-haired man approaching her. "Meet Kasper. Here, we call him The Enforcer."

The towering devil stepped under the chandelier, masked from the nose up. But that body, that presence—she knew. She'd seen that sexy swagger before.

That dominant energy.

That cool restraint.

The kind of man who'd ruin you slowly because he liked the way you begged.

Kasper approached Nina, took her hand, and guided her to the two thrones on the opposite side of the room, facing the bed. She offered her wrists, and he chained her in without a word—tight and smooth, like he'd done it a hundred times.

He turned to Lucifer and gestured to the other throne.

Lucifer hesitated.

Nina rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, gorgeous. If you want to watch, you have to be chained. House rules."

"You trust this guy?"

"With my life," Nina said breathlessly. "He protects me."

Lucifer sat, letting the chains tighten around his wrists as Kasper clicked them shut tightly.

"Your beast doesn't say much," Lucifer muttered.

"They never do," Nina said smugly. "They obey."

She looked toward the bed, smiling like she'd already won.

"Kasper. Begin."

He turned to Chloe.

Stalked.

His shirt hung half-unbuttoned, revealing the defined slope of his muscular chest and a hint of ink. He picked up a studded paddle—heavy, black, glinting at the edges.

Chloe's thighs trembled, and her nipples tightened at her instant attraction to Kasper. Heat flooded between her legs, languid and helpless.

She knew that body.

Those hands.

That smile—and those sexy dimples.

That man.

Kasper set the paddle down. Removed his shoes. His socks. His pants.

Now, only in a black dress shirt and silk boxer briefs, he crawled onto the bed beside her.

Chloe whimpered.

Her eyes flicked to Lucifer, who snapped, "Do as you're told. It'll make the pain easier."

She didn't answer.

She turned to the man beside her.

He leaned in, his lips brushing her left ear, sotto voce. "Relax, babe. Play along."

His familiar scent hit her like a rush of flames. Her heart detonated, leaving her gasping for air.

Her breath hitched.

"Dami?"

He nipped at the edge of her neckline, his breath warm against her skin. Not showy. Intimate. The way only he did.

"Your hair and eyes are brown."

"Dye and contact lenses."

"You're here. But the media—" Her throat tightened. "They say you're with a new girlfriend. On vacation."

"A double." Damian kissed the sensitive spot just below her jawline. "No girlfriend. You're it for me."

"Since you're here, you must've read my journal." Her lips broke into a small smile. "Will you let me kill Lucifer?"

Damian tilted his head. "Follow my lead. Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

He took the lollipop, licked it, and dragged the wet tip down her inner thigh. Left a trail of sugar. Claimed her in silence.

Across the room, Lucifer frowned. "What are they saying?"

Nina smirked. "It's just foreplay. He's prepping her. He knows how to break them. I told you, I'm in control."

But Chloe wasn't breaking.

Her lips parted. Her thighs opened wider. Her hips lifted, silently begging.

He pressed his palm to her skin. Squeezed.

A message.

And she answered with a soft kiss.

They weren't playing a role.

They were setting the trap.

Damian wasn't just in control.

He was about to turn the room into a grave.

***

A/N: What do you think will happen next?

If you were in Chloe's shoes, what would you do?

Would you trust Damian with your life?

*Warning - the following few chapters won't be pretty. Dark, twisted, and vengeful.