Run With The Devil

Statement

Lyras pov

The next day, the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. I stretched lazily in bed, my body still tangled in the oversized shirt I had worn the night before-Deon's shirt, which always managed to make me feel oddly safe and wrapped up in him, even when he wasn't next to me.

I turned my head to the side, expecting to see him still asleep, but the space beside me was empty. Typical. Deon was always up early, handling something for the mafia or checking in with his men. It didn't matter how late we stayed up talking, or how much I told him he needed to rest, he was always ahead of the game, keeping everything in order. That's just who he was.

A soft sigh escaped me as I kicked the blankets off and stood up. The coolness of the floor sent a slight chill up my spine, but I ignored it. I shuffled over to the bathroom, glancing at myself in the mirror. The scars that yesterday I had tried to cover stared back at me, but for the first time in a while, I didn't feel the immediate urge to hide them.

Deon's words from last night replayed in my mind: "I love everything about you, every part of you. You don't need to hide." He had been so firm, so adamant, and I believed him. At least, I wanted to.

After brushing my teeth and pulling my hair back into a messy ponytail, I headed downstairs. The sound of voices filled the mansion-Harper, Marco, Angelo, and Vincent were already in some sort of heated debate, their voices carrying into the hallway. I smiled to myself, amused by how lively the mornings here always seemed to be.

As I entered the living room, I saw Deon standing off to the side, his arms crossed as he listened to his men argue over breakfast. The second his eyes met mine, a soft smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He was in his element-commanding, in control, yet relaxed. And, as usual, annoyingly attractive in his dark suit.

Harper was the first to notice me. She waved from the kitchen counter, a mug of coffee in her hand. "Morning, Lyra!" she called out.

"Morning," I replied, making my way over to the couch and plopping down with a groan. "What's the argument this time?"

Angelo sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "The movie last night, of course. Vincent won't stop complaining about the ending."

Vincent shot him a glare. "Because it didn't make sense! The main character should have died. There's no way he survived that explosion."

I couldn't help but laugh. "It's a movie, Vincent. Not everything has to be realistic."

Deon chuckled softly from his spot by the wall. "You should've heard him last night. He wouldn't let it go."

I shook my head, watching as they continued their back-and-forth. It was moments like this-simple, lighthearted, and carefree-that made me appreciate how far we had come. Despite the chaos and danger that seemed to lurk around every corner, we still managed to find pockets of peace. It was strange, feeling at home in a place that should've been anything but safe. But with Deon... it felt right.

"Alright, enough about the damn movie," Marco interrupted, cutting through the conversation. "What's the plan for today?"

Deon pushed off the wall and walked toward us, his posture shifting into that of a leader. "We've got a few things to take care of, nothing too heavy. Just need to check in on some shipments, make sure everything's running smoothly."

I noticed how effortlessly he commanded the room. It wasn't just his words-it was his presence. Everyone listened when Deon spoke, even if they had their own opinions, they always deferred to him. It was one of the reasons I admired him. He didn't need to demand respect; it was just given to him.

"And what about me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I looked up at him. "Am I included in these 'few things' you have to take care of?"

He gave me a knowing smile, stepping closer until he was towering over me. "You can join me if you want, but..." He trailed off, eyes glancing down at my bare legs under his oversized shirt. "You might want to change first."

I looked down at myself, then back up at him with a playful smirk. "What? This isn't appropriate mafia attire?"

Deon leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "It's plenty appropriate for me. But if you keep wearing that, we might not make it out of the house."

I felt a shiver run down my spine at his words, but I didn't let him see it. Instead, I rolled my eyes, playfully pushing him away. "Fine, I'll go change."

Harper snickered from the counter. "You two are hopeless, you know that?"

I shot her a look, but it was all in good fun. "Like you're any better with Angelo," I teased, watching her blush as Angelo winked in her direction. It was nice seeing her more comfortable with us, especially after everything we'd all been through together.

I stood up from the couch and stretched. "I'll be quick. Don't start the fun without me," I called over my shoulder as I made my way back upstairs to get dressed.

I sped up to my room and got dressed into a short provocative tight black dress with a cropped black leather jacket and black heels

I brushed out my hair and did makeup then sped out my room back to the group

"Well, damn," Marco said with a smirk. "Someone's trying to make a statement."

As we drove, I couldn't help but glance at Deon, who was focused on the road ahead. He looked calm, but I knew him well enough by now to know that his mind was always running through scenarios, always planning. His protective nature extended to everything around him, and sometimes, I wondered how much weight he really carried on his shoulders.

"You're quiet," I said softly, breaking the silence in the car.

He glanced at me briefly before returning his gaze to the road. "Just thinking."

"About?"

He smirked, that familiar look of his flashing across his face. "About how I'm going to keep you from causing trouble today."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Me? Trouble? Never."

He chuckled softly but didn't argue. Instead, he reached over, taking my hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Just stay close."

"I always do," I replied, lacing my fingers through his.