Demon King (Claimed By Lucifer Book 1)(10)

Suddenly, I felt very small and very alone, surrounded by all of these nice things I couldn’t afford, under the complete control of a man who could either shower me with riches and gifts or end my life altogether, if he so chose.

“Lucas,” I said, trying to speak to him around the rush of people. “I can’t accept all these expensive clothes.”

He stood up and crossed the room to me, then took my chin in his hand as he gazed into my eyes. “You can and you will. After all, if you’re going to be seen in public with me over the next few days, you need to look the part.”

I swallowed, my throat dry again, and this time from the mix of lust and fear pulsing inside me. “Is this some kind of Pretty Woman thing?”

“Not at all. I’m not paying for your body. I only bargained for your time.” His thumb trailed across my lower lip, tracing sensual patterns that made me breathless. “And as part of spending time together, I demand you dress properly for the occasion. I assure you, I will not miss the money, and the gifts come with no strings attached.”

I nodded slowly, hypnotized by his eyes and the low, melodious sound of his voice, not to mention the way he touched me—like he owned me already. He looked at me as if nothing else existed in the entire city, and it was hard not to want to be his completely.

I tried on some of the clothes and set aside the ones I liked, but then I found myself wanting to put some back. It just seemed like way too much, especially when I glimpsed a price tag. My monthly rent to Brandy could pay for one of the shirt sleeves and that was about it.

“She’ll take it all,” Lucas said in a commanding voice. “Pack it up and send it to my penthouse.”

The treatment was the same at the next several stores, with the result of my head spinning and me feeling like some sort of kept woman. Or a mob boss’s wife. That was probably more accurate.

We sped through Louis Vuitton, where he insisted on the rarest bag they had. Apparently, only three had been made, and I got one of them. I carried it on my arm—empty— to the next store, stiff as a corpse as Lucas wound an arm around my waist. I tried not to lean into him, but it was pretty much impossible, especially when he was so much bigger than I was and my body seemed determined to melt against him, even when my brain said it was a bad idea.

Fendi, Prada, Chanel. We got more clothes, plus matching shoes and accessories, creating a wardrobe fit for a princess, but one I could never wear in my normal life. Why would I need so many clothes for a week’s worth of time? I kept trying to tell Lucas it was enough, but he ignored me. At one point I saw an outfit I loved, and he must’ve read my mind or something because I was very careful not to show any reaction. I didn’t want him to think I was taking advantage of his generosity when really the weight of it left me cold, but he told the salespeople to pack it up like everything else.

The next stop was Tiffany’s. I hesitated at the door, below the sign in the iconic blue. “Lucas, really. This is too much.”

“I insist.”

He took my hand and I didn’t react quickly enough to stop him. With a short tug, he had me walking through the door and into another private showroom, just as fancy as the last five or six, or however many we’d been to at this point. As soon as we were spotted, sales people practically fell all over themselves to help us. I tried to refuse everything, even as I marveled at the jewels, but Lucas picked out several pieces, including diamond necklaces and stud earrings.

“For everyday wear,” he said.

I snorted. “My everyday wear does not consist of diamonds.”

“No?” He gave me a charming smile that wreaked havoc on my brain. “I thought diamonds were a girl’s best friend.”

“Not this girl,” I muttered. “Give me books over diamonds any day, thanks.”

“I can do that too, you know. But perhaps we can find something that’s a bit more you.” He stopped in front of a case that had a matching set including an emerald necklace, earrings, and a bracelet. The gems were exactly the color of Lucas’s eyes.

I held up a hand. “They’re gorgeous, but—”

“Yes, these are perfect,” Lucas said with an air of finality. He looked from the jewels into my eyes. “Emerald is your favorite, isn’t it?

My breath caught. First the coffee, now this. Was he stalking me? “How did you know?”

He gave me a devilish grin. “Consider it a lucky guess.”

“But where would I even wear them?”

The hunger in his gaze made my heart race. “You can wear them for me in my bed, with nothing else on.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I said with a very unconvincing laugh.

He gestured for the salespeople to wrap the set up for him, but then he caught sight of something behind me that made his eyes narrow. “Excuse me for a moment.”

He rushed past me and out the door like he was going to battle, and the swift change in his demeanor made my head spin. I watched the Tiffany employees pack up my things in cute little blue boxes and bags, wondering how this was my life.

“Should we put this on Mr. Ifer’s account?” a salesman asked.

“I assume so.” I glanced behind me. No sign of Lucas anywhere.

I poked my head out of the shop door, searching around for Lucas, and spotted him down the hall. He was talking in a low voice with another man with red hair, and their body language told me it was not a friendly conversation. Then suddenly Lucas grabbed the man around the neck and lifted him up into the air and slammed him against the wall.

No. Into the wall.

Plaster went flying and the man left a body-sized dent in it. Meanwhile, Lucas’s hand was still around his neck, holding him there with impossible strength. I could only see his back, but it was enough to send a cold wave of fear through me.

Lucas dropped the man in the rubble at his feet. “Do not cross me again, or I won’t be so lenient next time.”

“Yes, my lord.” The man kneeled on the floor and nodded, keeping his head low. He didn’t appear injured, even though he’d just been sent through a wall.

Lucas brushed plaster dust off his hands and turned toward me, leaving the man kneeling there. He spotted me watching with my mouth hanging open, and gave me a dazzling smile, like everything I’d just seen was totally normal.

He joined me in front of Tiffany’s and rebuttoned his suit jacket. “Sorry, darling, demon business. Now where were we?”

“How?” I gestured at the man, who got up and ran out of there as fast as he could.

“Don’t worry, he’s a shifter. Fox, if you must know. I barely scratched him.” He took my elbow again, his fingers strong and possessive as they dug into my skin. “Shall we continue? I have one more shop I’d like us to visit.”

I dimly nodded, my throat tight, as Lucas led me down the hall, leaving the plaster rubble behind, to another shop—Alexander McQueen. I had to practically pick my jaw up off the floor as we walked inside past all the beautiful clothes, shoes, and purses. There were actual runway gowns here on display in this secret back room, with capes and feathers and jewels. Real jewels, not tacky sequins. It was almost enough to make me forget what I just saw.

Lucas had picked that man up by his neck and thrown him into a wall. How did he have that kind of strength? And how had that man walked away without a scratch?

Could all this stuff about demons actually be true?

No. Impossible.

I had no explanation for it, but what I saw did confirm one thing—Lucas was more dangerous than I’d thought.

“I need a gown fit for a queen,” Lucas said to the salesman. “One of a kind. In her size.”

“I have the perfect thing,” the smartly dressed man replied in a respectful tone. “I’ll bring it out immediately.”

Lucas nodded and the man disappeared. I stared at Lucas with fear trailing down my spine, wondering how he could look so casual after such an act of violence. And so disturbingly gorgeous. Fuck, maybe he was the devil. Or at least the closest thing to it.

The salesman returned carrying an ethereal ball gown that was all black except for tiny crystal stars trailing down to the different phases of the moon along the bottom hem. At the shoulders, silver moon clasps held on a long, sheer black cape with more crystal stars running down it. Everything about it was soft and billowy except for the bodice, which was low-cut and form-fitting. It was the most beautiful gown I’d ever seen in my life.

Lucas nodded. “Have it fitted for her.”

I instantly reached out to touch the crystals on the gown, but then pulled my hand back. “It’s lovely, but I can’t imagine I’ll ever have anywhere to wear it.”

He pinned me with his dark gaze. “On your final night, you’ll be attending the Devil’s Night Ball as my guest.”

I counted the nights in my head. That was the night before Halloween. “What’s the Devil’s Night Ball?”

“It’s when the demons honor me as their King.”

I had no time to process his absurd words before I was whisked away into a dressing room, where a woman helped me put on the gown. Then I stared at myself in the mirror, my face pale, my eyes scared, while I stood in the loveliest dress I’d ever worn. Was this what Persephone felt like when she was kidnapped by Hades? Did Lucas think all the glitz and glamour would hide the dark, seedy depths of his underworld?