Chapter 20: The Escape Plan

"Isn't that right, Rosa?" The way Lucifer said her name, the venom in his tone, sent an involuntary shiver coursing through her body.

His eyes darkened, the crimson glow within them flickering like embers, and there was something feral, something untamed that left her heart racing.

Rose's breath hitched. This wasn't just anger—it was jealousy. Jealousy? A bitter laugh threatened to escape her lips.

This man barely knows me, yet he acts like he has the right to claim me, to feel this possessive rage? What a ridiculous being.

"Why do you even care?" she shot back, her voice laced with mockery, though a faint tremor of sadness betrayed her.

Lucifer's smirk faltered, his gaze narrowing as if her words were a challenge he couldn't ignore.

"You had no right to take me from my loved ones," Rose continued, her voice rising with a mix of fury and pain. "And yet, you did."

For a moment, Lucifer didn't react. His piercing eyes bore into hers, his expression unreadable, until his voice came, cold and cutting. "Would you rather I torture and use you instead?"

The chill in his tone froze her in place, and the sheer lack of emotion sent a ripple of unease through her.

"What?!" Rose blinked, disbelief and horror mixing in her expression. "Why would I ever want that?"

Lucifer leaned closer, his towering presence suffocating her as he spoke, his irritation unmistakable.

"Then give me a good reason why you complain," he snapped, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Rose's heart pounded. She felt cornered, helpless. Anger surged within her, a last desperate push against the weight of his dominance.

"Would you let me go back, then?" she demanded, her voice breaking, tears shimmering in her eyes. "Would you let me see my family—my loved ones?"

For a moment, Lucifer's gaze softened, the fury in his eyes dimming to something almost... regretful. But it was fleeting.

He looked away, as if her words carried a weight he couldn't bear to face. How could he tell her the truth?

That her so-called family, the people she clung to in her mind, were nothing more than carefully constructed lies in his plan?

"Finish your food," he said finally, his voice devoid of warmth. Rising from the bed, he turned to leave, his movements deliberate, controlled.

But Rose wasn't done. "You won't leave me without answers!" she screamed, her voice raw with desperation, trembling with either fury or anguish. Perhaps both.

The force of her words made Lucifer stop abruptly. It wasn't the plea in her tone that froze him but the faint vibration that accompanied it, a resonance that rippled through the air like a warning bell.

His eyes narrowed. Impossible.

The presence of her powers—it shouldn't be possible. Not in this human body. And yet, he could feel it. The faint stirrings of an opening.

Lucifer turned on his heel, his movements swift and predatory, closing the distance between them in an instant.

Rose's breath hitched in fear, her body freezing as he reached for her.

His hand clamped around her arm with a strength that made her wince, his grip unyielding.

She struggled against him, her smaller frame no match for his overwhelming force.

"You're hurting me," she whimpered, her voice trembling with pain and fear.

At her words, Lucifer's fingers loosened just slightly, but his hold remained firm.

Rose's wide eyes stared at him, her heart thundering in her chest as she tried to understand what was happening.

Lucifer's expression was unreadable, but his eyes... they were searching, frantic yet focused, like a predator sensing something amiss in its territory.

He closed his eyes briefly, and Rose could almost feel the weight of his concentration.

She'd never seen anyone look so serious, so... intense. It was as if whatever he was sensing held his very existence in the balance.

When he finally opened his eyes, a flash of realization crossed his face. His gaze dropped to her, scrutinizing her like a puzzle he'd just begun to solve.

Her core orb—it wasn't the pure, tranquil blue it was meant to be. Threads of gold swirled within it, a mix that shouldn't exist, not yet.

His jaw tightened. What does this mean? If her powers began to manifest now, before her full transition, it would only lead to one thing.

Death.

"Tell me," he said, his voice unnervingly calm, the sharp edge beneath it barely concealed. "On your way here, did you encounter anyone?"

Rose blinked at the sudden shift in his tone, her heart skipping a beat. "No," she replied cautiously, her voice trembling slightly. "Why? Should I have?"

Lucifer's crimson eyes narrowed, studying her intently as if searching for any hint of deceit.

The silence between them stretched, heavy and suffocating, before he finally spoke.

"Good," he murmured, though the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. "If you had, they wouldn't be breathing now."

The words were spoken so matter-of-factly, yet they carried a weight that made Rose's stomach twist.

Lucifer stood from the bed, his tall frame radiating dominance as he made his way to the door.

Rose's voice rang out behind him in a mix of urgency and annoyance. "At least, can I know the name of the man I'll be living with?"

He paused, his hand resting on the doorknob.

For a moment, Rose thought he might ignore her, but then he tilted his head slightly, his fiery red hair catching the light.

Without turning around, he replied smoothly, "Your husband will be a good fit," and walked out, shutting the door with a soft click.

Rose's jaw dropped. "My husband?" she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief as she stared at the now-closed door.

"I must be a joke to this soul." She threw herself back against the pillows, covering her face with her hands.

Who even was this man? And what in the world made him think he could just say things like that and walk away?

It had been days since Rose last saw Lucifer. She'd learned his name from a chatty maid who seemed eager to talk about her mysterious master.

The absence of the fiery-haired demon should have brought relief, but instead, it left an inexplicable ache in her chest.

She didn't want to admit it—maybe it was the way he lingered in her thoughts, his piercing red eyes, or that infuriating smirk. Whatever it was, she refused to dwell on it.

What mattered now was her chance to escape.

The mansion was quiet, almost eerily so. Lucifer was out of town, and for the first time since her arrival, Rose felt the sliver of an opportunity. She decided on her plan: playing sick.

That morning, Rose told the maids she wasn't feeling well and that she needed rest.

She added a sharp warning about not wanting to be disturbed, mentioning punishment for anyone who dared to ignore her wishes.

It was a bluff, of course, but one that worked. The maids scattered quickly, promising to keep her solitude intact.

Once she was sure the coast was clear, Rose got to work.