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Burned by Poison, Saved by the Devil Novel Cover

Burned by Poison, Saved by the Devil

To ruin my engagement, Hailey poisoned me with a deadly aphrodisiac, but her plan backfired when I sought refuge in a freezer. There, I saved myself by sharing body heat with the frozen, paralyzed Demetrius Maddox. When my family arrived to shame me, they found me with Chicago's ruthless Iron King instead of a thug. Now, to survive my treacherous relatives, I must prove my worth as a doctor to the dangerous man who holds my life in his hands.
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Chapter 4

Avery POV

The heavy, rhythmic footsteps materialized into a towering figure stepping through the frosted doorway of the meat locker. It was Dionicio. Demetrius’s Chief Enforcer moved with the silent, lethal grace of a phantom, his tailored suit impeccably clean despite the bloody, whimpering mass he dragged by the collar.

With a flick of his wrist, Dionicio tossed the man onto the icy concrete.

It was Foy. His face was a swollen, unrecognizable mess of purple bruises and dried blood, but the pathetic whimper that escaped his lips was unmistakable.

Hailey let out a strangled gasp, stumbling backward until she hit the frozen carcasses hanging behind her. My grandmother, Carmelita, swayed on her feet, while my father, Christian, looked as though he might vomit.

Demetrius didn't spare the bleeding associate a single glance. His abyssal eyes swept over the trembling Bolton family members before finally settling on me. The possessive weight of his stare sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the freezing temperature.

"To my place," Demetrius commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that left no room for negotiation. "Now."

The ride to Maddox Tower was a suffocating blur of dread. Now, we were in the sky. Demetrius’s penthouse office was a sprawling monument to absolute power. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the glittering, indifferent expanse of the Chicago skyline, but inside, the atmosphere was just as freezing as the meat locker.

Demetrius sat behind a massive obsidian desk, a dark king holding court in his sanctuary. At his silent, subtle gesture, Dionicio forced my father, my grandmother, and Hailey to their knees on the unforgiving Italian marble floor. Only Ken and I were permitted to stand.

Dionicio grabbed a silver ice bucket from a nearby liquor cart and dumped the freezing water over Foy’s battered head.

Foy sputtered, his swollen eyes snapping open. The moment his blurry gaze landed on the Don sitting behind the desk, he broke completely.

"Please!" Foy sobbed, blood and snot dripping down his chin as he scrambled onto his knees, bowing his head to the floor. "I didn't know she was yours, Don Maddox! I swear on my mother's life! Hailey Bolton paid me! She gave me the money to do it!"

A collective gasp echoed from my family. Hailey’s face turned the color of ash.

I didn't wait for Demetrius to speak. Drawing on a well of strength I didn't know I possessed, I stepped forward. The military-grade aphrodisiac still hummed faintly in my blood, but my mind was razor-sharp.

"What exactly did she pay you to do, Foy?" I asked, my voice eerily calm as it cut through the cavernous office.

Foy flinched at the sound of my voice but didn't dare look up. "To ruin you. To make sure everyone saw you defiled so your engagement would be broken."

"And the drug?" I pressed, taking another step closer, forcing Hailey to hear every word of her own undoing. "What did she give you?"

"I don't know the name!" Foy cried out, his voice cracking with terror. "She said it was military-grade. Said it would make you beg for it so it wouldn't look like a struggle. She promised me ten thousand dollars and a place in her father's crew once he took over!"

The truth hung in the sterile air, an undeniable execution order. Hailey was weeping silently on the floor, her manicured nails scraping against the marble as she trembled. She had been stripped bare, her malicious plot exposed in front of the most dangerous man in the city.

I glanced at Demetrius. He was leaning back in his leather chair, his expression an unreadable mask. He didn't look surprised, nor did he look satisfied. His dark, calculating gaze was fixed on Foy, and I knew exactly what the Don was thinking. A bottom-feeding associate like Foy couldn't source military-grade chemicals, and Hailey certainly didn't have the underworld connections to acquire them either. There was a deeper rot here, a dangerous external variable that had just breached his territory.

The silence stretched, suffocating and absolute. The weight of Demetrius's unspoken judgment pressed down on the room until the sheer terror of her impending death began to shatter the last of Hailey’s fragile sanity.

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