Cristina stepped into her new life, clutching the €9,500 tightly. Her heart raced with a mix of excitement, relief, and disbelief. For the first time in her life, she felt truly free—not just with money, but with a life she could finally call her own.
Her apartment in Strasbourg was the epitome of luxury: a French-style kitchen gleaming with polished appliances, a spacious drawing room with elegant décor, soft, stylish furniture, and every corner radiating sophistication. That day, she had indulged herself in luxurious clothes, elegant sandals, designer bags, accessories, and high-end makeup, every purchase a quiet celebration of her independence.
That evening, she dressed for herself. A deep emerald dress hugged her curves perfectly, and her long chestnut hair fell in soft waves down her back, catching the warm streetlights as she walked. Her makeup was flawless—subtle yet glamorous, highlighting her red-rimmed, tear-stained eyes and flushed cheeks. Even through the heartbreak, she looked breathtaking.
As she walked through Strasbourg, people glanced at her as she passed, drawn by her elegance, but Cristina ignored them all, lost in her own whirlwind of emotions.
She entered Le Pont Tournant, one of the city's most famous restaurants. The chandeliers sparkled above, the soft hum of conversation filling the air. She allowed herself a treat: truffle-infused lobster risotto paired with vintage champagne. The flavors were rich, luxurious… yet they could not soothe the ache in her chest.
Tears began to fall. Hot streaks ran down her cheeks, her shoulders trembled, and soft, quiet sobs escaped her lips, a sound that carried the weight of years spent alone. Her eyes were red and swollen, cheeks flushed from crying, yet there was something raw and achingly beautiful about her vulnerability.
A waiter paused nearby, concern in his voice. "Are you… okay, madame?"
Cristina lifted her gaze, letting a small, shaky smile form. "Yes… yes, I'm fine," she whispered, her voice soft but firm, hiding the storm within. She didn't want anyone to see the full depth of her pain.
Alone again in her thoughts, she whispered to herself, voice trembling, "Why… why did my parents do this to me? Why did they leave me all alone? My own father, my own mother… and they just… left me like an orphan."
Her hands gripped the stem of her champagne glass tightly. "No one… no one ever loved me, ever treated me like I mattered. It was always just… nothing. Just me."
Her sobs continued, quiet but relentless, until slowly determination glimmered through the sadness. "If no one will love me… then I will. I'll treat myself… I'll love myself. I'll give myself the happiness they never gave me. I'll take care of me. I'll make sure I get everything I deserve."
Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, a small, shaky smile broke through.
She promise to herself. With enough money saved for the future, she dreamed of buying her own house—a place that would truly be hers forever...
After finishing her meal, Cristina returned to her luxurious apartment in Strasbourg. She changed into comfortable clothes and poured herself a cup of coffee, taking a slow sip as she let herself breathe.
She glanced around, briefly admiring the elegance of her home, then caught her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks flushed from crying, faint streaks of tears still visible. She pressed her palms to her face and whispered, "Oh God… my eyes… my cheeks…"
She washed her face, but the redness didn't fully fade. A small smile appeared on her lips. "No problem," she murmured. "I'll sleep… after an hour it will be better."
Determined, she picked a nice outfit for the night, something elegant yet comfortable. Looking at herself in the mirror, she straightened her posture and said softly, "Let's do it."
Cristina walked up to the gate, holding her access card calmly. She completed the formalities quickly, the demon at the entrance stepping aside as she passed. With each step, she moved confidently, her luxurious outfit and long chestnut hair catching the light, fully aware of her own presence.
Inside the corridor, Alexander was standing, reading something, until he looked up and saw her approaching.
"Ooooh… look, look who's here!" he said, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "You look… beautiful. Shopping spree, huh?"
Cristina gave a small smile, ignoring the comment, her stride steady.
But as she drew closer, Alexander's expression shifted instantly, concern flashing in his eyes. "Wait—what happened to your face? Your eyes!" he shouted.
Cristina's hand rose to her cheeks, brushing at the faint streaks of tears. "It's nothing," she said softly, her voice calm. "I'm fine."
"Wait… you cried?" Alexander's voice carried concern, his eyes scanning her face.
Cristina caught his worried expression and shook her head gently. "No… why would I?" she said softly. Then, realizing he was genuinely concerned, she smiled faintly. "Yes… but it's only because of happiness. I… I got a lot of money. It's… happy tears."
Alexander's face softened, and a small smile appeared. "Oooh… really?" he said, his tone warm,
Cristina nodded, smiling softly. "Yes."
After finishing some of their work together, Cristina glanced at Alexander, tilting her head slightly.
"Alexander…" she began, a hint of curiosity in her voice. "What's the demon's name? It's… really confusing to just say 'Mr. Demon' or 'Demon.' You know, the gate demon is also a demon… so…"
Alexander chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Ah, I see what you mean. After finishing some of their work together, Cristina tilted her head, curiosity clear in her eyes.
"Alexander spoke calmly. "Yes… sir has a name. I never said I knew his name, but I do."
Cristina looked at him. "How do you know?"
"Because of work formalities," Alexander replied. "I was comfortable calling him sir, so I never bothered to use his name."
He studied her for a moment, then asked quietly, "So… you want to say his name? Don't you have fear?"
Cristina's face turned serious, her voice steady.
"No. If I had fear, I wouldn't be here. Living is hard… dying is a relief," she said with a faint smile.
Alexander paused. Then, clearly, he said—
"His name is Lucian Ravenswood."
Cristina smiled faintly, tilting her head. "Lucian Ravenswood… it's such a royal, ancient-sounding name."
Alexander nodded. "Yes, I know. But he… has it."
Cristina frowned slightly, curiosity shining in her eyes. "Still… the name doesn't really match a demon, does it?"
Alexander's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "That's exactly what makes him… different."
Alexander's voice came out hurried, almost pleading. "Cristina… if you have courage, then you can help me today… just for an hour, please."
Cristina frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Just… work with Sir for an hour," Alexander said in a begging, hurried tone. "I'll join you after that hour."
Cristina crossed her arms. "Why… I never said I would!"
"I have some pending book work from yesterday in the library. Remember?" Alexander replied quickly.
Cristina nodded. "Yes, I know… but I'm supposed to work alone after a few days. How would I manage today?"
"I know," Alexander admitted, his tone urgent. "But today, you have to take care of it. I'll come after an hour."
Cristina grabbed Alexander's arm, her fingers tightening slightly. "Wait… at least for a minute… please."
Alexander shook his head gently, urgency in his eyes. "No… I have to."
We both looked at the clock. It was time… the demon would arrive.
The gate opened slowly, and a hush seemed to fall over the corridor.
We both looked down as he appeared.
"Hello, Sir," Alexander said formally.
The demon's eyes scanned us briefly. "Hello, Alexandra," he replied, his voice calm but commanding.
Cristina's voice trembled, slow and hesitant. "Hello… Mr. Lucian Ravenswood."
Lucian Ravenswood froze for a moment, shocked, as if he hadn't expected her courage to speak his name. He waited, silently processing her words, before finally saying, "Hello… Cristina Smith."
Cristina's eyes darted to Alexander, disbelief clear. "How… how does he know my full name?"
Alexander met her gaze, calm and serious. Without a word, his eyes seemed to say it all: He knows everything.
Lucian Ravenswood's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice calm but commanding. "What's going on?"
Alexander's gaze was sharp. "Nothing," he said shortly.
Cristina nodded, serious. "Yes… nothing."
Lucian's eyes flicked down. "You both… are holding onto each other's arms."
Quickly, they both let go of each other's hands, stepping back.
"I have to some pending urgent work in the library for an hour," Alexander said, his tone firm. "So… Cristina will work with you for an hour, Sir."
Lucian Ravenswood nodded slowly. "Hmm… okay."
Alexander glanced at Cristina, then ran off without another word, leaving her standing beside Lucian ravenswood.
They sat opposite each other at the large wooden table, the corridor silent around them. Alone with him, Cristina couldn't help but notice him more sharply.
He wore his usual black attire, but the design exposed part of his chest, revealing the well-defined lines of his six-pack. Even seated, the strong lines of his neck, broad shoulders, and powerful frame were impossible to ignore. His hands rested lightly on the table, long and precise, moving with calm authority, each gesture deliberate.
Cristina's thoughts raced. Why does he always wear black? Why does he always look so perfect, so… different?
Lucian Ravenswood made a soft, deliberate sound, like a clearing of his throat, before speaking.
"Cristina… are you okay?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge of concern that made her heart skip.
Cristina took a quick breath, coming back to herself. "Yes… I'm fine," she said, forcing a steady tone, though her heart beat faster, a little shaken by the thought that he might have known what she was thinking.
Lucian's sharp gaze lingered on her. "You don't look fine. Your eyes… they're red."
Cristina's fingers subconsciously moved to tuck a strand of hair across her face, covering her eyes. "No… it's just… an allergy,"
Lucian Ravenswood's voice broke the silence. "Be careful… in the future."
Without waiting for a reply, he picked up the diary from the table, scanning the pages as he read something intently.
Then he turned to her. "Here," he said, explaining a passage from the book in detail, his tone calm and precise, "this is how it should be written."
Cristina nodded and began copying the text carefully. When she passed the diary to him to check, he accidentally brushed her hand.
When Lucian Ravenswood's hand accidentally brushed hers, Cristina felt a rush of sensations—cold, warm, soft, all at once, sending a small jolt through her.
She quickly pulled her hand back, keeping a careful distance.
Lucian's voice, calm yet sincere, broke the silence. "I'm… sorry."
Cristina forced a small, steady smile. "It's… okay, Mr. Lucian Ravenswood," she said softly, though her pulse still raced.
Both of them were silent for a minute. Lucian picked up the diary, flipping through it carefully, reading each point with quiet focus.
Cristina's mind wandered, thoughts spinning. Can a demon really be so… gentle? she wondered. A warm voice, concern in his tone… If a demon is like this, then… how would an angel behave? She had never seen anyone on Earth act like this.
Her thoughts drifted further. If such demons existed in our world, all women would jump at the chance to marry them… even knowing they could die, they'd still be happy to do it.
Lucian Ravenswood picked up the diary and looked over a page. "Check this," he said, passing it to Cristina.
Cristina took it carefully. "Yes… okay," she replied, her tone steady.
After a moment, she spoke up, pointing out a section. "Mr. Lucian Ravenswood, here is a point that needs to be changed."
Lucian's eyes scanned the note, his expression thoughtful. "Hmm… okay," he said simply, nodding.
Alexander called out, hurriedly packing his things. "Come on, Cristina… finally! I'm done with my work, but there's so much pending in the library. I've marked it for you."
Cristina's eyes lit up, and she sped off happily, nodding quickly. "Yes… sure!" she called, her excitement making her heart race.
In her hurry, the pen slipped from her hand and fell to the floor.
Alexander chuckled, shaking his head. "Go, go! I'll pick it up," he said, watching her dash away with a small, amused smile.
You two… becoming friends, huh?" Lucian Ravenswood said, his voice calm, curious.
Alexander straightened, replying seriously, "No, sir… we're colleagues..
Both Lucian Ravenswood and Alexander immediately turned their focus to the urgent work, opening the diary and reviewing the points that needed attention.
....
The scene shifted to the quiet library.
Cristina ran to a large wooden table in the library and sat down. She began working on whatever Alexander had left for her.
In the middle of her work, she whispered his name softly to herself, Lucian Ravenswood… who are you exactly…?
Cristina glanced at the large clock in the library. It was time. She quickly ran to the cabin.
The demon was already standing by the gate, as if he had been waiting.
"Bye, Sir," Alexander said respectfully.
"Bye… Mr. Lucian Ravenswood," Cristina added softly.
Lucian Ravenswood nodded calmly. "Bye, Cristina Smith… and bye, Alexander."
Cristina looked at Alexander, curiosity still in her eyes.
"Now… what do you want to know, Cristina?" Alexander asked gently.
"How do you know so much?" she replied, amazed.
Alexander smiled faintly. "I can read your expressions… whatever you want to ask, tomorrow."
Cristina opened her mouth, starting to speak
But before any words could leave, both vanished to their worlds.
The cabin fell silent....empty