Their Midnight Obsession | 18+

Chapter 3

I stood frozen, shocked and furious, my gaze fixed on the blazing inferno that was once Sebastian's car. The flickering flames painted the evening with an eerie glow. Shadows danced in rhythm with my racing heart. The air carried the acrid scent of burning metal, suffocating my senses.

"Sabe..."  I began, my voice barely a whisper, but he interrupted with a grunt, his attention fixed on his phone, a silent fury etched on his forehead. The charming man he was just minutes ago had transformed into a raging storm at the sight of his burning car.

"Go inside,"  he commanded, his words curt and loaded with frustration. The cold breeze swept across my arms, sending shivers down my spine as I stole one last glance at the dimly lit street.

"FUCKING GO,"  he barked, his gaze intense, as if trying to sear his instructions into my mind.As I turned away from the burnt-out spectacle, I couldn't shake the feeling that this night had set in motion something far beyond my control. The Devil Hideout, the place of my first job, awaited me like an unexplored maze, its secrets veiled in the dimly lit interior.

Little did I know that within those walls, I would encounter true devils and minions of Satan, each with their own stories and agendas.

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7:14 PM

The Devil Hideout was a dark and lively place. The lights were low, and the music was so loud you could feel it in your bones. People from all walks of life filled the room, dancing to the beats in a colorful display of blue and red lights. As I walked in, I saw everyone: well-dressed businessmen sipping drinks, mysterious folks hanging around, and even individuals who, with their secret behavior and quiet talks, gave off a vibe that suggested links to the world of gangs and mafia. The air was filled with the heady mix of sex, body perfumes, drinks, and danger.

The bar had this thrilling vibe, almost like stepping into a world of sex clubs. It wasn't just a place to drink; it was an experience.

I made my way through the lively crowd toward the bar counter, but to my surprise, there was no bartender in sight. The clinking of glasses and the buzz of chatter enveloped me, and my feet instinctively moved to the beat of the music. "Watermelon Sugar" by Harry Styles played on the speakers. "Did I mention I was his fan?"

I spotted a guy near the counter, fumbling with his pockets and secretly mixing white powder into his drink. Our eyes locked, and he smirked at me, his lips forming a sly grin.

Suddenly, a pale-haired boy emerged from the corner of the bar, his black eyes reflecting yellow lights from the chandelier above. "Oh hey, beautiful, what would you like to drink?" he asked, smiling directly at me.

"Hi, actually, I'm Luna Per..."

"Oh yeah, Rose told me about you,"  he interrupted, preparing a drink for the girl next to me. The scent of her strong perfume filled the air. Rose, Zola's mutual friend, had hooked me up with this waitressing job.