The whisper followed her into her dreams.
It was never loud—never a shout, never an intrusive scream—but it had a weight that curled into her bones, coaxing rather than forcing. When Rose's eyes fluttered open the next morning, the sound still clung to her ears like the last note of a fading song.
She sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the floor. It was ridiculous. Voices didn't just appear out of nowhere. It had to be stress—being uprooted from the orphanage, moved into a mansion, thrown into a family where everyone looked at her like she didn't belong.
Still… her skin prickled.
---
The day passed in polite distance. Selena was away at the company headquarters, her children scattered in their own worlds. Damien roared off in his sports car. Lydia disappeared into town with a cluster of well-dressed friends. Marcus stayed home but vanished into his study, emerging only for coffee.
By late afternoon, the house felt like a museum—vast, silent, beautiful, and lonely.
Rose wandered into the library. Floor-to-ceiling shelves groaned under the weight of books, the air thick with the scent of old paper. She ran her fingertips over the spines, pausing at one bound in dark red leather. No title. She pulled it free.
The moment she opened it, the whisper returned.
So you're curious.
Rose's breath caught. She turned in place, heart thudding. "Who are you?"
The voice chuckled—low, smooth, amused. Names are powerful things. You'll learn mine when I want you to.
"You're in my head."
Not quite. More… in the room.
The air shifted, warmer, as though someone had stepped closer. Her instincts screamed danger, but there was something else too—an odd undercurrent of fascination.
"What do you want?"
The real question is—what do you want, Rose Elara?
"I don't want anything from you."
Liar.
The word sliced through her like a blade.
---
Lightning flashed outside, throwing shadows across the walls. When her eyes adjusted, there was a figure in the corner—half-shrouded in darkness, but undeniably there.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair falling slightly into his eyes. His suit was black, perfectly fitted, but the air around him didn't belong to this world.
Rose's breath stilled. "You're real."
He stepped forward, and with each movement, the shadows seemed to bend toward him. "Very real. And I've been sent for you."
"Sent…?"
"I help people, Rose. Not for free. But I can give you what no one else can—safety, power, freedom from the hands that want to break you." His eyes gleamed. "And you have more enemies than you think."
She thought of Lydia's icy stares, Marcus's calculating gaze, Damien's smirk. "What are you?" she asked.
His smile was slow, deliberate. "Some call me a devil. Some call me a fallen angel. The truth?" He leaned in slightly, the air between them tightening. "I am Vincent Dravis. And I am offering you a bargain."
---
Rose swallowed. "What's the price?"
"Everything has a price," Vincent said. "In my case, when I help someone, I take the thing most precious to them."
Her brow furrowed. "And if I don't have anything precious?"
"That," he said with a grin, "is exactly why you interest me."
He circled her slowly, his footsteps silent on the thick carpet. "You're an orphan. You've been taught not to love too deeply. No trinkets you'd die for, no person you'd burn the world to save. That makes you… unfinished."
"Unfinished?"
"I can give you time," Vincent said, stopping in front of her again. "Time to find something—or someone—that becomes your precious thing. When that day comes, I'll take it. Until then… I am yours to command."
---
Rose's first instinct was to laugh. The whole thing was insane. But under the surface, the temptation was real.
She thought of the whispers between Selena's children, the danger she couldn't yet name but could feel crawling in the walls of the mansion. If Vincent was telling the truth, if he could protect her from what was coming…
"What do you get out of it?" she asked.
Vincent's eyes darkened, though not unkindly. "Power. With every precious thing I take, I grow stronger. It is the order of things. Angels give. Devils take."
"And if I say no?"
"Then I leave." He tilted his head. "And you face what's coming alone. I've seen the way they look at you, Rose. I've heard the things they plan."
Her pulse quickened. "What things?"
Vincent smiled faintly. "Sign the contract, and I'll tell you everything."
---
The book she had pulled from the shelf was no longer just a book—it now lay open on the desk, its pages blank except for a single line written in a language she didn't recognize.
"Blood," Vincent said simply. "A drop. It seals the bond."
Rose hesitated. She had survived without help her whole life. She didn't need anyone.
But the truth was harsher: survival wasn't the same as living. And she was tired—tired of fighting alone, tired of waiting for the next blow to land.
She pricked her finger with the tip of the letter opener lying nearby. A bead of blood welled up. She let it fall onto the page.
The words shimmered, shifting into a language she could understand. The pact is bound. The devil is yours until the precious thing is found.
The room pulsed once—like a heartbeat—then stilled.
---
Vincent's expression softened, though his smirk lingered. "Wise choice."
"So… now what?"
"Now," he said, "I stay close. I make sure no harm comes to you. And I wait to see what you love enough to lose."
It should have sounded like a threat. But for reasons she couldn't explain, Rose felt… lighter.
"Do you live here now?" she asked, half-sarcastic.
"I can live anywhere I want," Vincent said. "But yes—I'll be near. No one will see me unless I wish it." His smile turned almost teasing. "Consider me your shadow."
And then, just like that, he vanished—leaving only the faint scent of something sharp and clean, like rain on metal.
---
That night, Rose dreamt of him—not in the way she might have expected, but standing in fire, unburned, chains of molten gold snapping under his hands. His eyes found hers, and she woke with her heart pounding.
She didn't know yet how much of her life had just changed.
But somewhere, deep in the folds of reality, a devil now walked beside her.