Previously known as ' Always & Forever '
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"Why is it that everyone perceives you as a myth?" he inquired, curiosity lacing his voice.
She responded, her tone laced with a hint of amusement, "It is because they are gripped by suc...
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As our cars approached Devil's Mansion, a shiver ran down my spine, a premonition of the impending danger that awaited us. Alex, sitting beside me in the passenger seat, couldn't contain his fear any longer. His voice erupted with panic, his words echoing through the car.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he shouted, his voice filled with trepidation. "Her name alone gives me chills, dude. And now we're willingly walking into her lair. I'm fucking petrified! What if this is all a trap? What if she plans to kill us, Killiam? Or worse, hold us hostage? We are willingly walking into the lion's den!"
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. Deep down, I shared his concerns, but I couldn't afford to show weakness. I had studied Kali meticulously, analyzed her every move, and I knew this meeting held a purpose beyond the surface. Damon was just a pawn in her dangerous game, and we had to unravel her true intentions. It was a risk we had to take.
"I know what I'm doing, Alex," I retorted, my voice laced with determination. "Just shut the fuck up and trust me."
As we drove deeper into her territory, the atmosphere became increasingly ominous. The number of guards multiplied, their presence serving as a stark reminder of the imminent danger that loomed over us. The scene resembled a military zone, with heavily armed personnel patrolling the area, ready to attack at a moment's notice. It was a chilling sight.
"Holy shit," Alex whispered, his jaw dropping as his gaze fixated on the sight before us was a breathtaking juxtaposition of beauty and danger. The grandeur of Devil's Mansion, its pristine white exterior glistening in the sunlight, seemed incongruous with the darkness that resided within . Devil's Mansion emerged in the distance, an awe-inspiring palace that seemed to radiate a sinister beauty under the sunlight. I had no idea such a place existed in New York. It was both enchanting and foreboding.
The entry gates, guarded by four formidable figures in military uniforms, marked the threshold of Kali's domain. Their eyes locked onto us, their expressions inscrutable. One guard approached, his footsteps echoing in the tense silence. He knocked on my window, and I reluctantly rolled it down. He peered inside, assessing us, before nodding at his comrades.
"Safe," he announced in a thick French accent. The gates creaked open, revealing the path that led us further into the depths of darkness. Papa's car trailed closely behind us, a silent show of solidarity.
Inside the palace grounds, the presence of armed guards intensified. Two of them opened our car doors, their disciplined faces betraying no emotions. They swiftly retrieved the keys from our hands, a subtle reminder of our vulnerability within this hostile territory. This was Kali's realm, and we were mere intruders.
A man emerged from the depths of the palace, commanding respect with every step. Nathan Bianchini, Kali's third-in-command, stood before us, his towering figure exuding an air of controlled power. He wore a dark blue Armani suit, the tattoos peeking from his collar hinting at his allegiance to the notorious Devil's Bloodlust. The most prominent one, a snake coiled around a black rose, marked him as a member of the elite.
