Sphnix2025

In the heart of a crime-ridden metropolis, Vincent Moreau, the cold and calculating heir to the Moreau Syndicate, navigates a world built on blood, power, and betrayal. Raised by a ruthless father who molded him into a weapon of war, Vincent has never known love—only control and dominance.

Everything changes when Celeste Laurent, a rising star in the entertainment industry, becomes a pawn in a twisted game of power. To settle an old debt, she is forced into an arranged marriage with Vincent—a man whose reputation is soaked in cruelty and blood. Celeste, who has spent her life running from her dark past, finds herself shackled to a man feared by even the most hardened criminals.

But secrets run deep. Celeste isn’t just a singer—she is the daughter of a former detective murdered in cold blood while investigating the Moreau Syndicate. And she has been searching for answers, unaware that the man she is bound to may hold the key to the truth.

As betrayals unfold and old enemies resurface, Vincent and Celeste are forced into an uneasy alliance. While Celeste tries to navigate her husband's dangerous world, Vincent finds himself drawn to her defiance—an attraction that threatens the iron control he has spent years cultivating.

But love in their world is a dangerous illusion. Surrounded by conspiracies, blackmail, and murder, will Celeste uncover the truth about her father’s death before it’s too late? And can Vincent protect her from the very darkness that made him who he is?

Crimson Chains.

Celeste sat in front of the mirror, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of her collarbone. The dim lighting of the grand bedroom cast a golden hue over her skin, but her reflection was colder than she remembered.

She wasn't the same woman who had been forced into Vincent's world.

The knife in her hand, the blood on her skin, the power in that moment—it had awakened something inside her. Something neither fear nor guilt could drown.

A knock echoed through the room before the door creaked open.

Lucien stepped inside. The older man, Vincent's right-hand and the closest thing to a mentor she had in this house, regarded her with careful eyes.

"You did well today," he said, voice even.

Celeste didn't turn. "You mean, I passed his test?"

Lucien leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You made a choice. That's what mattered."

Her fingers clenched against the vanity. "And what if I had refused?"

Lucien let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "Then Vincent would have broken you another way."

Celeste finally met his gaze in the mirror. "And what are you? His messenger? His leash?"

Lucien pushed off the doorframe and walked toward her, his movements slow, deliberate. "I'm the one who keeps him from destroying the things he finds valuable."

She scoffed. "And you think I'm valuable?"

Lucien reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He rolled it between his fingers before tucking it away again. "Not to me," he said plainly. "But to him? Maybe."

Celeste felt the weight of those words settle in the air between them.

That meant something in Vincent's world.

Vincent sat at the head of the long mahogany table, his fingers lazily tracing the rim of his wine glass. The crystal chandelier above them bathed the dining hall in an eerie glow, but the shadows in Vincent's gaze remained impenetrable.

Celeste took a slow sip of water, waiting for the moment he would break the silence.

"You impressed me today." His voice was smooth, almost lazy. But she could hear the sharp edge beneath it.

Celeste set down her glass carefully. "You were testing me."

"I test everyone." Vincent leaned back in his chair, studying her. "But you, Celeste… you surprised me."

She met his gaze head-on. "Should I be flattered?"

Vincent chuckled. "Flattery doesn't matter here. Power does."

Her stomach tightened. "And what if I don't want power?"

Vincent's expression darkened. "Then you'll never survive."

Survival. That was all she had been fighting for since she was dragged into this marriage. But now… was that enough?

Later that night, Celeste stood on the balcony of her bedroom, staring out at the city below. The skyline stretched endlessly, a world of power and corruption hidden beneath its glimmering lights.

She didn't need to turn to know it was Vincent.

His presence was suffocating, like a predator circling its prey.

"You didn't answer me earlier," he said, his voice dangerously close to her ear. "Do you want power, Celeste?"

"I want control," she admitted. "Over myself. Over my choices."

Vincent's hand brushed against her wrist, deliberate, calculated.

"Then take it," he murmured. "I'll teach you how."

Celeste turned to face him, her pulse thrumming like a war drum. "And what do you get out of this?"

Vincent smiled, slow and predatory. "A queen is only as powerful as the king who made her."

This wasn't just about her survival anymore.

The real question was—how far was she willing to go?

Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil