"Sweetheart, the Devil always gets what he wants. Sooner or later you will want me just as much as I want you."

"But mom-"
"Shhh... let loose angel, this is your destiny."

****

Lucifer.
Father of sin.
King of Hell.

The Devil is obsessed with me. He married my mother just so he could own me. No matter how hard I try, I can't escape from him. He just doesn't want to let me go and I don't know why.

I have never understood his fascination with me. Most of the time he's just there, staring at me like an adept predator sizing his prey, gazing into my soul with those soulless silver-blue eyes.

All the attention he should be giving my mother, he showers me with and I am getting more and more entangled in his web of deceit and decadence and thrown into his dark world.

He calls me Angel, but wants nothing more than to stain my innocence and ruin me with pleasure. 

******

when a sweet, innocent, naive little angel mingles with the step-father from Hell. 

Vanessa does not remember what a normal life is. She is shunned by the world, has no friends, and has never dated or been kissed. She likes to blend in with the walls and keep to herself and mostly pretend she is not affected by her devilish step-father's interest in her. 

Vanessa has no idea what she really is to the Devil.

Vanessa is the Devil's step-daughter, but the Devil knows that they are destined to be so much more and he will stop at nothing to make her his.

Daddy Lucifer

Chapter Thirty Three- The Devil She Doesn't Know Part Eight 


It instantly occurred to me that I was in the arms of a stranger, I had never seen this man before my entire life, but his ethereal beauty and his alien, striking features looked so familiar to me. I quickly figured that that was because he held such a strong resemblance to the object of my torrid fantasies and vivid nightmares. 


 -----••••¡¡¡¡•••----- 


Varto casually wore his black gloves, fixed his jacket and shirt which I noted to be different from the button down he was wearing when we left the hotel. The shirt must have gotten besmirched with blood and brain matter, which he is very aware that I hate the smell of and sight of, so he must have changed. Once he was done putting himself together, his stoic demeanour was admirable and bewildering as he instructed Morvig to stop the car in front of the garden. 
