Page 6 of Nocturne

So I turn my eyes away from the magnetic pull. It took more effort than it should require in a situation like this. I stand along with Ivy, who now seems to forget about the corpses temporarily. She looks scared but also intrigued.

“Troubling women again, Luciano?”

The voice that spoke before comes from the man again as he steps into the light, drawing my attention. I hear Ivy gasp lightly, and I cannot fault her.

He is a handsome man. Tall and lean but muscled, clad in a grey suit that fits him perfectly. His blonde hair is perfectly styled, and he has the fiercest blue eyes I’ve ever seen that shine under the light. His clean-shaven face flaunts his high cheekbones and defined jaw that jumps with a dimple as he smiles.

Everything about him screams perfection and charm. He looks like an angel sent from heaven.

That is until his eyes fall on us.

They remain with poised charm when he looks at me, but there is a shift when they land on Ivy. It is subtle and lasts only for a second, but I see it. I see the monster underneath the mask of charm.

He switches back to his facade of a gentleman quickly, giving us a polite smile. I push Ivy behind me slightly, not wanting her to be in his focus anymore. He observes this, and his smile broadens, turns slightly apologetic even, perhaps trying to fool me.

I’ve learned to see the wolves beneath the sheep’s clothing, and there is nothing he could do that would convince me that he means no harm.

“Go fuck yourself, Iblis.”

The boss—Luciano—growls, but it lacks the bite. His eyes are gauging the giant whose eyes I can still feel on me. It burns the side of my face, but I refuse to meet them again. They have an odd pull on me, and its…disarming.

“That is no way to talk when in the company of women.” Iblis chides lightly.

It wouldn’t be wise to draw any attention to us in this situation. But seeing we already stand right at the centre of mayhem—quite literally, might I add—I take a step to my right, towards the door to escape. The giant man cocks his head in my periphery, the move terrifying me to the bone. It’s subtle—too subtle for someone his size. But it reminds me of a predator… the way a lion might size up its prey before deciding to pounce.

My heart thuds painfully against my ribs, a warning.

He’s not just looking. He’s calculating.

That tilt of his head says everything I need to know—whatever comes next will be on his terms, not mine.

The other man, who stands a step behind the giant’s left, steps forward and into the faint light. A silent move to stop us.

This man is also tall—not as tall as the giant—and with a sheared head. His nose is slightly bent as if it has been broken one too many times. He has a slight stubble on his square face paired with dark eyes that glare at us. He wears a tight-fitted black t-shirt that showcases the tattoos on his biceps that travel to his corded neck. He stands with his arms crossed across his broad chest and a dark scowl our way stops me in my tracks.

“You went too far this time, Devlin.”

Luciano speaks, and I turn to him, the name registering now in my frayed mind. He is glaring at the giant, and I hope against hope that I heard him wrong. In the heat of panic, the name did not register the first time he said in the absence of these three charming gentlemen’s company. But now that I hear again, my mind comprehends the name as it joins the dots. Ivy seems to register at the same time.

“Oh my fucking god!” She gasps.

Devlin turns. Despite the rage, there is still fear evident in Luciano’s eyes. He looks comical, trying to confront a man who has almost a foot over him in height and double his size.

“Where is he?”

Ivy lets out a small whimper behind me. I see the scowling man blocking our path, but it’s the one behind him who holds all the power. Iblis straightens at his voice—deep, commanding, like it’s carved from stone and shadow.

The sound surpasses anything I’ve ever heard, resonating through the air, and settling in my bones. It carries weight, the kind that compels men to spill their darkest secrets and bow their heads in submission. And despite my resolve, it reaches me too.

It’s a voice that doesn’t just demand obedience—it pulls it from you, stripping away resistance with every husky, authoritative word.

A shiver races down my spine, unbidden. Not from fear. Something darker. Something I can’t afford to name.

If he were a commander of troops, his voice alone would carry across the battlefield. The kind of voice that could command the fiercest armies and silence the world with a single word. Maybe this is what the warriors of old looked like—the ones from the medieval era, hardened by war, men who didn’t just fight but conquered.

His voice isn’t just deep—it’s relentless. Unforgiving. It reminds me of the North Sea—harsh, wild, dark. A sea that carries death in its tides and pulls everything under, swallowing even the strongest without mercy.

“He is not here. He ran away the minute he knew that you were coming.” Luciano speaks.

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