Marked By The Devil's Heir
Trigger Warning: This book is extremely dark, containing themes of obsession, strong sexual content, abuse, and psychological manipulation. Read at your own risk.
"I'll delete the pictures depending on how obedient you are. You have to do everything I say. If I want you to become a dog, you get on your knees and bark. Do we have a deal?"
Pierce leans down to Malakai's height, his lips brushing the shell of his ear, close enough to taste his fear.
"You don't want her to know what a dirty little creep you are, do you?"
Malakai Kreston is the preacher's perfect son. Quiet. Obedient. The kind of boy no one looks at twice.
But Malakai has a filthy secret. And he'll do anything-anything-to keep it buried.
Enter Pierce Masterson.
Wealthy. Attractive. Pierce doesn't just want Malakai's secret. He wants Malakai. All of him. His fear. His obedience. His body. His mind.
Pierce wants to own it, and lock it away where no one else can ever touch it.
Kai has always been the hunter-watching from the shadows, obsessing in silence, taking what doesn't belong to him.
Now someone is hunting him.
And Pierce doesn't play fair. He plays dirty.
How far can you run when the devil already knows every dark corner of your soul?
In a game of predator and prey, the lines blur. The roles reverse. And the most dangerous thing isn't the boy who holds the blackmail-
It's the moment Malakai stops wanting to be free.
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Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
~MALAKAI~
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I saw him today.
The devil in shining armour.
His face brought back all the memories I've tried to forget.
All the blurry lines became clearer.
Up until now, it had been difficult to distinguish between the truth and my imagination.
I can't believe it's only been twenty-four months since we last saw each other.
Sometimes it feels like decades; other times, it's just like yesterday. But he was real.
And he is my demon. He crawls out from under my bed every night, and I'm drenched in the nightmares of his own making.
'Pierce, do you know that the dark parts of you no longer scare me? I'm only afraid of the dark parts of myself that you created.'
**TWO YEARS AGO**
The whooshing sound of the belt welcomes me as I step into our living room. I can already feel the tension in the air. The sight of the belt is something I'm already used to.
My brother, Ezra, is facing the wall shirtless as our father mercilessly strikes his bruised back. I wince at the sight. The injury will certainly take some time to heal.
"Pornography is a sin! I'm only stopping you from going to hell!" Dad says furiously as he continues to lash out at my brother.
Mom is busy in the kitchen. She usually turns a blind eye each time our father punishes us. She always tells us that Dad loves us and that he only disciplines us to make us better human beings.
Dad is a preacher at the local church, and as his children, we are expected to be godly just like him. Other kids are expected to follow our example.
"Ezra, do you think I like doing this? The belt hurts me just as much as it does you!" Dad says, and I nearly snort at that. It's a lie I've heard so many times.
Dad notices my presence and says, "Your brother is so perfect. He attends fellowship, participates in activities, and gets good grades. Why can't you be more like him?"
Ezra stares at me, and I notice his bruised lip and jaw. It seems Dad has gotten a little too excited this time.
I stand in the corner awkwardly. Each time our father compares Ezra to me, the distance between us brothers only seems to increase, and I hate it.
"I'll be in my room," I murmur to myself. I can hear Dad continue to scold Ezra as I make my way to my room and lock the door behind me.
I snatch my laptop from the table and jump on my bed. I have more important things to do, and my thighs are already shaking in excitement as I turn on my laptop.
It's quite a pity that I'm not the perfect son my father thinks I am. I stare at the image of Lana Winters on my laptop.
My dirty little secret.
She's sitting by the poolside, her hair wet, droplets of water trailing down her neck and disappearing into her cleavage. The skimpy outfit she's wearing is soaked, clinging to every curve. Her exposed thighs are slim and long, slightly parted, and I imagine what it would be like to run my tongue along them.
This is only one of the hundreds of pictures of her that I have on my laptop. I've categorized them by outfit, by location, by how much skin she's showing. The swimsuit folder is my favorite.
I love Lana. She just doesn't know it yet, but she's going to be my wife and the mother of my kids. Yeah, maybe I'm delusional, but I don't care at this moment. One day she'll understand that no one will ever love her the way I do.
I put my hand in my pocket to withdraw my prize. Something I'll add to my collection.
Lana's panties.
White cotton with a tiny pink bow at the front. So innocent, just like her. A moan escapes my mouth as I press the flimsy material against my nose and inhale deeply. It had been difficult to steal this. After today's swimming lessons, I had to sneak into her locker while no one was watching. My hands were trembling the entire time, my heart pounding so hard I thought I'd pass out. But it was worth it. Hell, it was worth it.
I inhale again, deeper this time, letting her scent fill my lungs.
Good heavens. Even her underwear smells delicious, just like her. Sweet. Clean. Another moan escapes my mouth. I'm already getting excited. I stare at the image of Lana on my laptop and frown slightly. Why did he always have to be everywhere?
Pierce Masterson.
I can't even sneak a good image of Lana without capturing him as well. He seems to always hover around her, standing too close, looking at her like she belongs to him.
I don't like it.
He's always sniffing around her like a dog. But Lana is mine.
I'm not about to allow him to ruin my good mood. I quickly glance at the door to confirm that it's locked before I bring down my pants.
I work on myself with my eyes glued to the screen.
"Lana," I whisper, "I really love you."
The low gasp leaves my mouth as I released, my vision going white. It takes some moments to regain myself, my chest heaving, my body trembling with the aftershocks.
I stare at my laptop that's covered with the evidence.
Only it didn't land on Lana's face.
Pierce.
His face is stained with it. Streaks dripping down his cheek, pooling near his mouth.
I should be disgusted. I am disgusted.
But something twists in my stomach as I stare at it. I wince and grab a tissue, wiping the screen aggressively.
Such a turn-off.
I guess I'll have to start cropping his face from Lana's pictures from now on.
***
The bell rings for the first period. I'm sitting in my usual seat, waiting for the teacher to arrive.
"Hey, this seat is empty, right? Can I sit next to you?"
I look up at the owner of the voice, and my heart nearly explodes out of my chest.
Lana Winters, like always, looks so beautiful that I can't even concentrate on her words. Her lips are moving, but all I can think about is how those lips would feel against mine, how soft they looked, how I'd imagined them wrapped around my-
My mouth is wide open. I'm openly drooling over her when she suddenly asks, "Are you okay? If you don't want me here, then-"
You're already making her think you're a weirdo!
"N-no, I mean, s-sure, it's fine. You can sit here!" I rush out. I'm sitting so rigidly in tension, my spine completely straight, and my heart is roaring blood to my ears so fast I can barely hear myself think.
Even though Lana attends my father's church along with her parents, she's never directly spoken to me before. The new semester only started yesterday. How on earth did I ever get so lucky?
"Thanks, you're sweet," she smiles as she sits down.
I get a whiff of her sweet perfume, and heat creeps to my face as I realize she's just complimented me. She thinks I'm sweet!
If I had a tail, it would surely be wagging because of how excited I am right now.
"T-thanks," I murmur, hoping she can't see how flustered I am.
"Malakai, right? I'm Lana. We'll probably be seatmates for the rest of the semester. I hope we get along well." Lana smiles, and my heart is beating so fast that my feet start to twitch beneath the desk.
I can only think of the fact that she knows my name.
She fucking knows me!
I wish I could record this moment. It will certainly be the happiest day of my life.
The teacher enters, and everywhere quietens.
Still, my whole body refuses to calm down. I mean, Lana is sitting beside me, and I can't control the effect she has on me. Her arm is only inches from mine. If I shifted slightly, our skin would touch.
"Pierce Masterson..." The teacher starts to call attendance.
The mention of his name prompts me to look back, only for my eyes to clash with his intense stare.
He's already looking at me.
No. Not looking. Watching. Like a predator tracking its prey.
An unwilling shudder sweeps through me. I've always thought that Pierce looks a little crazy in the eye. There's something hollow behind them, something cold and calculating that makes my skin crawl.
I can't place this unfounded fear of him, but something in me knows that he's not someone I want to cross. Yesterday flashed in my mind and I look away, embarrassed, my cheeks burning.
Why am I suddenly thinking about that disgusting occurrence?
I try to focus on the board, on the teacher's voice, on anything else. But I can still feel Pierce's stare burning through the back of my head. It makes my neck prickle, makes my stomach tighten, and I don't know fucking why.
I can't concentrate on the lectures anymore.
Can he be jealous that Lana is sitting beside me? I'm always around Lana, so I know that Pierce likes her as well. Maybe that's why he's glaring at me. Maybe he sees me as competition.
The thought makes me want to smile.
"Moron..."
The word is quiet, almost lazy, but I hear it clearly. My shoulders stiffen.
He can't possibly be referring to me, right?
Yeah, I'm convinced that he doesn't like the fact that Lana is beside me.
The feeling is mutual because I hate Pierce too.
But even as I think it, I can still feel his eyes on me, and something cold settles in my chest.
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9.2
Averie spent hours preparing a perfect third-anniversary dinner for her billionaire husband, Jarett Sharp.
Instead of celebrating, she received an anonymous photo of him intimately holding another woman.
When Jarett finally arrived, he didn't even look guilty.
"Candida. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm on my way."
He simply took a call from his mistress, shoved Averie aside, and walked right back out the door.
That same night, Averie's father suffered a massive heart attack.
The hospital demanded a half-million-dollar deposit before they would operate.
But when Averie frantically tried to use the emergency medical trust card Jarett had given her, it was declined.
Jarett had deliberately frozen her access to the funds just hours earlier.
While she begged his assistant on the phone, Jarett refused to be disturbed, busy wrapping his expensive coat around his mistress in the hospital garden.
Averie collapsed in the hallway, realizing the man she loved was deliberately letting her father die.
In the end, a childhood friend stepped in to pay the bill and save her father's life, while her billionaire husband later pinned her to their bed, throwing a check at her and reminding her he had bought her for three million dollars.
Averie didn't shed a single tear.
She slowly ripped his check into pieces, left her massive diamond ring on the dresser, and walked out into the cold New York night with nothing but her old suitcase.
She pulled out her phone and dialed her old ballet professor.
She wasn't just going to leave Jarett Sharp. She was going to destroy him.
7.5
Celine loves her lover Zack very much. It was so deep that he was willing to introduce her to his father. All he got was a wound. Zack suddenly turned cold, walked away for no reason, then had the heart to return his longing with a rude attitude.
When a status on social media reveals Zack's dark side, which is hungry for women and money, Celine's heart is broken.
What's more surprising is that none of this is a coincidence. Zack wanted to destroy it. But in the midst of the destruction, there was one person who stood silently behind Celine, Arlend. The man who had been harboring feelings, was not willing to see Celine fall too deep.
Just as Celine is about to end her life on the city bridge, Arlend arrives. He saved Celine's body and possibly her soul. From that day on, Arlend vowed never to leave Celine alone again.
But Celine's wound was not finished. When Adiwangsa was threatened with bankruptcy, his position as leader was shaken. And when he chooses to secretly marry Arlend, Zack's shadow hasn't really gone from Celine's side.
How can Celine deal with all this? Between the past, and the man who is now with her.
9.0
For three years, I wasn't a foster child. I was a living, breathing cure.
Hidden away in the attic of the Thomas mansion, my sole purpose was to keep their precious daughter alive. Every week, they drained my blood to treat her rare disease, leaving me anemic, scarred, and invisible. I was the "walking blood bag" from the wrong side of the tracks-a stray they'd reluctantly taken in.
The day Katharina was finally cured, I overheard the truth. "That walking blood bag has served her purpose," the grandmother hissed. "We are done with her."
They threw me out into a freezing rainstorm, tossing a crumpled check at my feet like a tip for a beggar. Payment, they said, for the years I'd "leeched" off their family. Payment for the six thousand milliliters of blood they'd stolen, for the chronic anemia, for the scars.
I shredded their charity in front of their faces and walked into the storm.
They laughed, screaming that I'd be back, that I'd be begging on the streets by morning. But as I stood alone on that dark road, my world shifted. A sleek, black Rolls-Royce pulled up in silence. The door opened, and my real family stepped out.
I wasn't a stray from the slums. I was their lost heiress. And the Thomases are about to learn that the girl they bled dry is now the one holding all the power.
9.0
I married him to save my family.
He married me to destroy my life.
Evelyn Hart never imagined she would become the wife of the coldest billionaire in the city especially not the man who looked at her like she was his greatest enemy.
Five years ago, she loved Lucas Blackwood with her whole heart... until he accused her of betraying him and vanished from her life.
Now he's back.
Richer. Colder. Crueler.
When her father's company collapses, Lucas offers her a deal she can't refuse:
marry him for one year... and he will erase her family's debts.
But what Evelyn doesn't know is that Lucas believes she ruined his life and this marriage is his perfect revenge plan.
Every day, he humiliates her.
Every night, he reminds her that she means nothing to him.
Every touch burns with hatred... and desire.
But the deeper Evelyn falls, the closer the truth comes out.
She never betrayed him.
She was set up.
And when Lucas finally realised he married the wrong enemy...
Will he fight for her love...
or lose her forever?
7.6
My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."
7.7
Alondra spent three hours making soup for her husband, only to find him at the hospital tenderly holding another woman's hand.
"I'm four weeks pregnant, Gerard," the woman said softly.
Gerard coldly handed Alondra a divorce agreement, claiming their three-year marriage was just a placeholder because this woman had once saved his life.
Heartbroken, Alondra fled in her car, only to realize her brakes had been completely disabled.
She spun out of control and crashed head-on into a massive delivery truck.
As she lay trapped in the mangled wreckage with her ribs crushed and blood filling her mouth, Gerard's black Maybach pulled up to the curb.
He stared at her dying body through the window with a completely blank expression.
He didn't call an ambulance or even open his door.
He simply rolled up his tinted window and drove away into the rain.
A raw, suffocating hatred burned in her chest, hotter than the pain in her shattered bones.
She couldn't understand how the man she had loved and served so devotedly could just coldly watch her die like a piece of trash.
Opening her eyes again, Alondra gasped for air.
She had returned to the exact morning two years ago, right before she was supposed to deliver that pathetic soup.
When Gerard walked in and threatened her with divorce, she didn't cry or beg.
"I agree. Let's divorce," she said calmly, packing her bags to reclaim her true identity as a billionaire heiress.