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THE DEVIL'S POSSESSION Novel Cover

THE DEVIL'S POSSESSION

He was her husband's worst nightmare. Now he’s her only escape. When Selene's picture-perfect marriage shatters and her husband tries to sell her to the mafia to settle his debts, it's Ronan Blackwood—cold, dangerous, and filthy rich—who steps in. Not to save her. To claim her. “You were never his, Selene. You’ve always been mine.” Now locked in his penthouse and tangled in his world of power, blood, and obsession, Selene must decide: fight him—or fall for the devil who just might own her heart.
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Chapter 1

Selene’s POV

“She’s the only asset I have left. Once you take her, my debt is cleared.”

The words punched through the air like a bullet and I froze mid-step, the heel of my shoe catching on the edge of the marble tile outside Damien’s office.

My hand hovered over the doorknob.

What was he talking about, or rather who who was he talking about?

My heart stopped beating for a moment then slammed against my ribs with a force that seems like it wanted to get out of my body.

The office door wasn’t fully closed. So it was easier to hear Damien's voice, the desperation in it and the pants in his breaths as he paced - or I assume that's what he's doing.

“I said tonight,” he hissed into the phone. “I don’t care how. Just take her.”

Shock glued my feet to the floor and I couldn't breathe.

Take who?

But I wasn't stupid. I knew he was talking about me

Take me?

A sick wave of cold crashed over me, starting from the base of my spine and crawling up to the back of my neck.

I nudged the door open just enough to see him. Damien stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, one hand gripping his whiskey glass, the other pressed to his ear.

He was shirtless, slacks hanging low on his hips, his hair disheveled like he hadn’t slept.

Or maybe like he hadn’t cared.

My husband, the charming, successful entrepreneur with his spotless suits and smooth words—now looked like man who was about to unravel in the most unpleasant ways.

He turned away from the window, facing the room. “Yes. She’s docile. Obedient. You’ll have no problems.”

My fingers curled into fists.

Docile?

Obedient?

I stepped inside, pushing the door open with a hard shove. It slammed against the wall.

Damien jolted, nearly dropping his drink. His eyes landed on me, and widened for a moment, stunned—then quickly calculating.

“Selene—”

“What the hell did I just hear?”

He set the glass down with maddening calm and disconnected the call. “That wasn’t what it sounded like.”

“Really?” I took another step forward, shaking. “Because it sounded a lot like you were offering me up like… like livestock.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t make this dramatic, Selene. You’re smarter than that.”

I laughed. “Who are you talking to? Because your wife—the woman you made vows to—is standing right here, and you just called her your last asset.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He gave me a tired look. “It’s not personal.”

My voice was a whisper now. “Not personal?”

He took a slow step toward me, like I was some frightened animal. “I owe people, Selene. Powerful people. They don’t wait. They don’t negotiate. They take. And I didn’t have anything left to give—except you.”

I flinched, stepping back.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes Selene. It was either that or kill me. Would you rather I die?! These are dangerous men - deadly men who wouldn't think twice before ending my life and…I have nothing left to give them.”

I stepped back as his words hit me.

“So what did you do? Sell me off to the dangerous and deadly men to get yourself off the hook?”

His face twisted but his silence was all the answer I needed.

This wasn't a joke.

The bastard was really serious.

I wobbled slightly as my knees almost gave out under me and I blindly reached behind me for a chair before sitting down because the whole room suddenly felt like it was spinning.

This can't be happening.

“Why would you do that?” I whispered too shocked to actually yell.

“It was either you or my life Selene. I chose me. At least they wouldn't kill you.”

I almost laughed. Typical Damien. He was my husband so even I knew just how selfish he could be.

/I chose me./

Somehow he had gotten himself in debts and decided I should be the one to pay for it - like I always did.

Docile.

Obedient.

“I gave you everything,” I said. “I paid off your debts. I stood by you when your business flopped. I believed every word you told me.”

“You believed because you wanted to.” His voice dropped, now cold and unapologetic. “Don’t act like a saint now. You needed someone to believe in, and I played the part.”

My stomach churned.

“You’re disgusting,” I whispered.

“Don't be so dramatic Selene,” he said, straightening his shoulders. “What do you expect? That I lay my life down instead?”

“The debts were yours, you bastard!” My voice grew this time and I gripped the edge of the chair so tight my fist burned, “you got yourself into a mess and you had no business trying to use me to clear it!”

Damien didn't move an inch.

“What the hell do you think I am? Some property that you could sell off whenever you want?”

“Yes!” He snapped, “that's what you are Selene. What other use are you for me? You are nothing but a pathetic excuse for a wife - penniless, worthless - all you do, is consume my hard earned money. You are nothing but a liability Selene so yes, I had the right to sell you off!”

Each words out of his lips felt like I was being stabbed over and over at the same spot- and it was hard to hear them, see him saying them and believe that it was coming from my husband.

“I am penniless because I sacrificed everything for you. Now I'm a liability?”

“Please save me the sob story. I never asked you to sacrifice shit - you jumped into the decision because that's how foolish and pathetic you are.”

My chest tightened, “Damien -”

“I did more for you! I gave you a good life, a comfortable life - more than you ever hoped for. So this is your chance to pay me back - for all the years I've had to carry you like a burden.”

His words knocked the air out of my lungs.

I sat there, stunned, as I watched him my vision blurred from unused tears pooling in my eyes.

How could he say all these to me?

“How could you do this to me?”

Damien shrugged, “I did nothing to you. If I was to calculate how much you owe me you wouldn't pay back in a lifetime.”

“I'm your wife! I had no idea there was a need to pay back for anything.”

He smiled, “not anymore you are not. You belong to the people coming for you - and don't worry. You are pretty enough so they will treat you well.”

Gosh!

“Please,” my word came out more broken than I intended, “please don't do this to me Damien.”

His jaw twisted with a bitter smile. “There she is. My docile pathetic wife with zero back bone. You will be perfect for what they need you for.”

Pathetic wife.

The word echoed in my head as he bent down and grabbed my chin with his fingers.

Pathetic wife.

That's all I was - all I've ever been to him.

But who could blame him? I was pathetic and even now… I was still pathetic.

I shuddered in self disgust as his finger stroke my chin.

“You are a good girl - so just be one for your new owners.”

I didn't blink or think. Before I could stop myself my hands flew and a loud smack echoed through the room.

Damien recoiled back in shock and palmed the cheek I had just slapped.

Without a moment hesitation, I stood and ran.

Through the hallway. Past the photos on the wall I now hated. My purse lay on the kitchen counter—I snatched it and made for the door.

But the knob wouldn’t turn.

I turned it again and it didn't bulg. The door was locked.

My knees grew numb as panic crept through me.

The door was locked.

The lights above me flickered. Once. Twice. Then all at once—they all went out enveloping me in total darkness.

I froze, and for a moment all I could hear was the sound of my heart beat racing wildly against my chest.

And then I heard it.

A creak on the back staircase. A heavy footstep near the back entrance.

“Damien?” I shouted.

Nobody answered.

The house was too quiet, creepily quiet

I reached for my phone but No signal.

Panic clawed up my throat. I bolted for the back door—

And stopped.

Three shadows stood just beyond the glass. Black-clad. Masked. Armed.

One of them stepped forward and tapped the barrel of his gun against the window, as if politely asking to be let in.

“Mr. Laurent said you’d be ready.”

My scream ripped through the dark.

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