The council returned to the estate, the weight of the night heavy on their shoulders. Ravenna sat at the far end of the chamber, her daggers resting on the table, her hands trembling despite her best efforts to hide it.
Silvio's voice cut through the silence. "He wanted to break her. Not kill, not yet. Dominic plays a long game. He is testing us piece by piece."
Victor Draemont frowned, adjusting his cufflinks. "But he made one mistake. He touched what belongs to Lucius. That is a debt no man can afford."
Darius slammed his blade into the table, the wood cracking under the force. "Enough talk. Let us hunt him. Let me split him open and hang his corpse where the city can see."
Cain Mortalis said nothing, but the gleam of his axe was answer enough. His silence was a vow of blood.
Adrian Crowe leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "No. If Dominic wants to play a game, then let the Devil himself set the rules. Only then will the lesson be permanent."
The chamber fell into silence as the doors opened. Lucius entered, his presence like a storm pressing against their very skin. His crimson eyes swept across his council, lingering on Ravenna.
She bowed her head, her voice shaking. "Master, forgive me. I was careless. I was weak."
Lucius stepped closer, lifting her chin with a single gloved finger. "You bled for me. That is not weakness. That is devotion. But do not forget, Ravenna, the Devil does not forgive twice."
Her breath caught in her throat, and tears gleamed in her eyes. "I will never fail you again."
Lucius turned to the others. "Dominic believes he can strip the flesh from my empire by picking at my bones. He does not understand. When you touch a single part of me, you awaken the whole."
His words made the air heavy, and even the council, hardened killers and manipulators, felt the chill of them.
That night, Lucius left the estate alone. No guards, no council, only the Devil walking into the night. He made his way to a government district that Dominic had infiltrated, where a secret meeting of conspirators was taking place.
Inside, Dominic stood at the head of the table, speaking to his allies. "He hides behind fear, behind myth. But I have seen cracks. Tonight, we strike where he cannot protect himself."
The room shifted as the doors creaked open. Lucius stepped inside, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
Every conspirator froze. The air felt heavier, colder, as if death itself had entered the room.
Dominic smirked, forcing confidence into his voice. "So the Devil shows himself at last. I was beginning to wonder if you were only a shadow."
Lucius's lips curved into a smile that was anything but kind. "You wonder no longer."
One of Dominic's men reached for his gun. He never pulled the trigger. Lucius moved faster than their eyes could follow, and when the man's body hit the floor, his throat was already torn open.
Panic erupted, chairs clattering, shouts filling the chamber. Yet Lucius did not rush. He moved with terrifying grace, each step deliberate, each motion drenched in power.
Dominic raised his hand to halt his men. "Do not run. Do not fear. He is only a man."
Lucius's eyes locked on him, and for the first time, Dominic felt a tremor of doubt. The Devil's gaze pierced deeper than flesh, as if it saw every secret he had buried.
Lucius spoke softly, but his words carried like thunder. "You think of me as a man. That is your first mistake. I am what men become when they embrace the darkness they fear."
One by one, Lucius dismantled Dominic's men. Bones cracked, screams tore through the chamber, and the walls were painted red. Yet Lucius never broke stride, never showed mercy.
Dominic watched, his smirk fading, replaced by something colder. This was not strategy, not calculation. This was terror given form.
At last, the room fell silent, bodies littering the floor. Only Dominic remained standing, his fists clenched, his heartbeat loud in his ears.
Lucius approached him, close enough that their breaths mingled. His smile was sharp, merciless. "Now you understand. They do not call me Devil for the games I play. They call me Devil because when I come, there is no salvation."
For the first time, Dominic's eyes wavered. His voice was low, strained. "This is not the end."
Lucius leaned closer, his whisper colder than the grave. "No, Dominic. This is only the beginning."
The lights flickered, the air choking with the scent of blood. Dominic staggered back, his smirk gone, his bravado broken. He had sought to test the Devil, and instead, he had seen him bloom.
And in that moment, Dominic realized why the name Lucius was spoken only in whispers, why men prayed when they heard it. He had not challenged a man. He had challenged something far worse.