Infernal Affairs

I, Rory Patterson, was in dire need of a paycheck.

So when I landed a position as a personal assistant for the CEO at the exclusive Inferno Associates, I ignored the oddities. The mysterious clients. The impossible requests. The fact that my enigmatic boss, Sebastian Morrow, speaks dead languages and schedules meetings at midnight.

Of course, denial only works until you see your boss literally collect a man's soul during a late-night meeting. After that, pretending everything is normal is off the table.

Turns out, my boss is a demon. Not metaphorically, as in my-boss-is-the-worst way, but rather an actual horns-and-contracts demon.

The firm? It brokers deals between mortals, supernatural types, and, yes, actual Hell. And that NDA I signed on my first day? Magically binding. As in, I physically cannot tell anyone what I do, even if I wanted to. (Which, trust me, I did.)

And not every contract is about souls, either. Sometimes it's favors, sometimes it's bizarre errands, and sometimes it's debts that need collecting. Guess who gets to play supernatural phone tag when someone's overdue? That's right, yours truly.

I could quit. Walk away. Pretend none of this is real and go back to eating cereal for dinner.

But the pay is ridiculous.
The work? Never boring.

Now I'm navigating supernatural office politics, morally gray contracts, and her growing conviction that maybe, just maybe, there is a place for me after all. Against my better judgment, I'm starting to realize that in a place built to make deals with darkness, someone has to look out for the people who get steamrolled in the process.