Catherine Bella Han
I don't remember saying the word.
I only remember the way it felt leaving my mouth—like surrendering a piece of myself I could never get back.
"Yes."
Soft. Barely audible.
But the moment it escaped, the temperature inside the car spiked. The heat wrapped around me like invisible chains, thick and possessive. Kang Tae-joon's eyes flashed crimson—brighter this time, unmistakable—and his smile deepened into something victorious, almost feral.
"Good girl," he murmured, the praise stroking over my skin like velvet laced with fire.
Then he leaned back, pressed a button on the armrest, and spoke to the driver without breaking eye contact.
"Back to the gate."
The Maybach glided forward. The door opened. Cold air rushed in.
I stumbled out onto the stone path, arms wrapped around myself, watching the black car disappear through the gates with a final, heavy clang.
I stood there until my fingers went numb.
Until the winter wind burned my lungs.
Until the truth settled bone-deep.
I had just sold myself to the Devil.
Literally.
Somehow my legs carried me inside. The mansion was still asleep, hallways dim and echoing. I crept upstairs, locked my bedroom door, and only then let the sobs come—ugly, choking, silent.
Because I had won.
Grandma would die proud. I would get my inheritance, my place, my revenge.
But the price…
I could still smell him—smoke, expensive cologne, and something ancient and scorched underneath. I could still feel his gaze like brands on my skin.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown: Contract will be delivered this afternoon. Sign it. Pack only essentials. Car arrives 8 a.m. tomorrow.
Do not be late.
—K
My hands shook so violently I almost dropped it.
I saved the contact under one letter.
K.
For Kang.
For Devil.
I splashed water on my face until the redness faded, stared at the stranger in the mirror, and forced myself to move.
Tonight he would sit at our dinner table.
Tonight I had to pretend this was love.
I opened my closet and chose armor: a sleek black dress that hugged every curve, heels sharp enough to kill, hair swept into an elegant chignon. Red lipstick like war paint.
If I was going to play his fiancée, I would look like the kind of woman who could leash a monster.
I smoothed the silk over my hips, took a steadying breath, and went downstairs to deliver the good news.
Grandma was in the sunroom, wrapped in blankets despite the roaring fireplace, knitting needles clicking softly as she worked on yet another scarf she'd never wear.
Her face lit up the second she saw me.
"Bella, darling! How did you sleep?"
I knelt beside her wheelchair, gently taking the yarn from her trembling fingers to untangle a knot.
"I slept fine, Grandma." Lie. "And… I have wonderful news."
Her eyes sparkled with hope. "He's coming tonight?"
I nodded, forcing a radiant smile. "Kang Tae-joon will be here for dinner. He can't wait to meet you."
She clasped my hands, tears welling. "Oh, my brave girl. You really did it. You caught the biggest fish in the sea."
From the doorway, a scoff cut through the moment like glass.
Lara leaned against the frame, arms crossed, perfect brows arched. "Seriously? Kang Tae-joon is coming here? Did you hire an actor, Bella? Because the real one doesn't slum it with ugly ducklings."
Grandma's needles stilled.
I stood slowly. "Mind your tongue, Lara."
She rolled her eyes and flounced away, muttering, "We'll see."
The rest of the day crawled.
Maids bustled, polishing silver that was already spotless. The chef prepared a seven-course feast fit for royalty. Grandma fluttered with nervous excitement, changing outfits three times.
I hid in my room, pacing, checking the clock every five minutes.
6:00 p.m.
6:15.
6:30.
He wasn't coming.
Of course he wasn't. Why would the Devil keep his word to a mortal liar?
I gripped my phone, thumb hovering over K.
Should I call? Beg?
No. That would only amuse him.
I opened my bedroom door to head downstairs and face the humiliation alone—and nearly screamed.
Because the hallway mirror reflected not just me, but him.
Kang Tae-joon stood three feet behind me, silent as shadow, dressed in a tailored black suit that looked poured onto his body. His eyes glinted red for a split second in the dim light.
I whirled around, heart slamming against my ribs.
He wasn't there.
Just empty hallway.
Hallucination. Nerves.
I pressed a hand to my chest and forced myself downstairs.
The family was already gathered in the drawing room. Father nursing whiskey. Stepmother perched like a vulture. Lara smirking over her wine.
The clock struck 6:45.
Lara pounced. "It's past time, ugly Bella. Where's your billionaire baby daddy?"
I opened my mouth—ready to confess everything—when a deep, velvet voice rolled through the room like thunder.
"We're getting married tomorrow."
Every head snapped toward the entrance.
Holy hell.
Kang Tae-joon stood in the doorway, flanked by two bodyguards carrying exquisitely wrapped gifts. The chandelier light caught the sharp angles of his face, making him look carved from marble and sin.
Beautiful didn't cover it.
Staring at him felt like blasphemy.
Father's glass slipped from his fingers, shattering on the marble. "Mr.… Kang?"
Lara's mouth actually fell open.
Grandma gasped in delight.
Tae-joon strode in like he owned the mansion—which, let's be honest, he probably could buy ten times over. He greeted my father with a firm handshake, my stepmother with a polite nod, Lara with a cool glance that made her shrink.
Then he turned to Grandma, bowing slightly, voice warm as honey. "Mrs. Han. It's an honor."
He presented the gifts—rare vintage wine for Father, a limited-edition Hermès scarf for Stepmother, jewelry for Lara and Grandma that probably cost more than the house.
I stood frozen.
This man was an actor. Had to be.
He crossed the room to me in three long strides, cupped my cheek with one warm hand, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my other cheek.
My entire body locked up. His lips burned.
"Sorry I'm late, love," he murmured against my skin, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Traffic was unforgivable."
Grandma beamed and gestured to the dining room. "Come, come! Dinner is ready."
We filed in. He pulled out my chair, hand brushing the small of my back—possessive, electric. I sat, knees weak.
The maids served course after course: truffle risotto, wagyu, lobster. Conversation started stilted, everyone still reeling.
Then Tae-joon took my hand under the table, interlacing our fingers, and turned to Grandma.
"I owe you all an apology," he said, voice rich with sincerity. "Especially you, Mrs. Han. I should have come forward sooner. I should have taken responsibility the moment I learned about the baby."
Father choked on his wine.
Tae-joon continued, eyes soft as he looked at me. "But the truth is… I was terrified. Bella is extraordinary. Brilliant, fierce, beautiful. She sees through every mask the world wears. I was afraid if I moved too fast, I'd lose her."
He squeezed my hand, thumb stroking my knuckles.
"I've never met anyone like her. She challenges me. Makes me better. I'm hopelessly, completely in love with your granddaughter."
Silence.
You could hear a pin drop.
Lara looked like she'd been slapped.
Father's face cycled through ten shades of red.
Grandma dabbed happy tears.
I stared at him, mouth dry.
Who the hell was this man, and what had he done with the devil from this morning?
He lifted my hand, kissed my knuckles tenderly, eyes locked on mine.
"Tomorrow, I make it official. In front of the world, she'll be mine."
Grandma clapped. "Oh, this is wonderful!"
The rest of dinner passed in a haze of his flawless performance—charming stories, laughter at the right moments, compliments that made even my stepmother blush.
But every time his gaze met mine, the warmth vanished for a split second.
Just long enough for crimson to flicker.
Just long enough for me to remember.
This wasn't love.
This was ownership.
And tomorrow, the real performance began.