The Ex-Wife's Deal with the Devil

His POV

I hear the door roughly slide open.

Then a wailing man was dragged in and was forced to kneel in front of me.

Puffing a smoke out, I looked down on him, groveling on the floor and crawling towards my feet to beg for forgiveness, but before he could even stain my expensive shoes with his filthy blood, Pierce stopped him by the collar and slammed him back.

"Please... please..." I hear his whimpers.

I see his bloodied nose and his busted lips from the beating he had received from my men, but it isn't enough to pay for the crime he committed.

"I didn't know it was her... her face was covered... please spare me!" He reeks of fear, as he should.

I rest my chin on my hand, thinking about his punishment.

On the outside, I was calm, but inside I was seething with rage.

He touched her.

He dared to put his hands on her and pulled her by the hair.

"Which hand did you use?" I cut in.

My voice was neutral, smooth, almost too soft towards a man who did something worthy of death.

He swallowed hard, choking on his own sobs.

He didn't answer, so I stood up from my seat and moved towards him, my slow footsteps served as a countdown to something inevitable.

My men tightened their grip on him when he planned to run away as he saw me approach, pressing him down hard against the floor.

"I asked a question, or am I talking to a dead man?" I asked, my tone eerily calm.

He finally nodded, "It was... it was my right hand, but I swear, Mr. Frantz, I didn't hurt her."

What I hate the most are people who refuse to own up to their mistakes, even when there was already proof... he should have hid it better.

"The CCTV footage from the bank says otherwise," I stepped on his right hand, slowly crushing it down with my own weight. "I saw her wince in pain, you hurt her," I added.

He tried to suppress his screams, but the pain was too much that he let it slip, tearing through the empty warehouse.

"Please forgive me! Please forgive... I was wrong!" He sounded more desperate, so I lifted my foot and walked back to my seat.

"If you know you did something wrong, justice must be served then," How ironic for me to speak of justice when I have evaded the law countless times.

Relief seemed to wash over the man's face, "Yes, I will serve time in prison-"

"Who said anything about prison?" I stopped him, leaning back against my chair and snapping my finger to gain Pierce's attention.

After working under me for a decade, Pierce already knew exactly what I wanted and immediately brought out a gleaming blade.

In my world, I decide what punishment to give.

"Cut off his right hand," I huffed out.

His tortured screams echoed as Pierce pressed the blade down while the rest of my men pinned him on the floor, their faces expressionless since this is a daily occurrence in our line of work.

The sound of flesh tearing and bones cracking was a symphony to my ears, a music that somehow dimmed the rage I was initially feeling after I found out that this filth of a man had hurt her...

When his hand had fully been cut off, he clutched the stump where it used to be and cried louder.

"Spread the word," I spoke, pulling out her photo from my pocket and sliding it towards his direction. "Anyone who dares touch this woman loses more than their hands next time,"

I snapped my fingers once more, and they dragged him out of my sight, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Except for Pierce, "Sir," he stood beside me with a crystal glass and I took it, letting the whiskey burn as it slid down my throat. "Mrs. Coleman had gone back to her work immediately after the robbery. She didn't ask for treatment for the injuries she got."

I leaned back, for a long moment, I just sat there and stared at the ceiling.

"Haah, should I just kill her husband?" I let my thoughts run freely, but Pierce was always there to ground me, weighing out the pros and cons of my horrid desires.

"Unfortunately, making Hollywood's biggest actor disappear won't be an easy feat, sir."

He's right, that man seemed to be untouchable nowadays, and I know it's because of her.

Tch.

Such boundless talent wasted on a vermin like Liam Tate.

I should have made her mine in the first place, I should not have allowed him to approach her that day... things would have been different for her, and for me.

So, imagine my fury when I saw the news on TV about her divorce.

Her photo was shown across every screen in the city. A woman suffering from a messy scandal.

She was disheveled, and her eyes were always red from continuous crying, from carrying years of sacrifice only to be discarded aside like trash by the man she built into a star.

The vultures constantly circled around her. Every reporter and magazine vilified her, shredding her reputation, and every fan sharpened their pitchforks and demanded her punishment.

My heart hurt for her but all I could hear that day was blood rushing in my ears and my deafening pulse of excitement.

She's divorced and alone.

Despite her cruel fate, I can't help but smile.

A dangerous smile from a man who had been waiting for so long.

Finally. The moment I had been waiting for had arrived, and the universe served it to me on a silver platter.

Kerri, the woman I desired, the woman that plagued my dreams, is broken, betrayed and vengeful.

Perfect.

Because a woman who has lost everything doesn't need comfort.

She needs a devil.

And I'm the only man wicked enough to play that role for her.