"I was Liam Tate's wife..."

My vision was filled with flashing lights from the camera shutters. Reporters from every TV station and magazine publisher were fighting to get their microphones closer to my mouth as I spoke the words I once dreamed of telling the entire world.

However, this time, it was because he fucked me over and fooled me so now, I am exposing him, exposing us, our marriage that he tried so hard to hide.

"...and I am divorcing him because he has been cheating behind my back all this time."

The sounds of camera shutters went blindingly fast. Everyone was eager to take a photo of me, the secret wife of this generation's hottest actor, Liam Tate, and it was none other than his ordinary assistant, little miss Kerri Coleman, me.

I didn't know seeing my husband fuck another woman was the push I needed to gain this courage and step out of that horrible marriage.

I had just filed my divorce papers and the swarm of reporters and paparazzi were waiting outside the court, waiting to get a scoop out of this sensational news. I told them my story, how he forced me to keep this marriage a secret just so he could get his fame, how he made me overwork myself to the brink of sickness, only to find out that his persona of being a 'playboy' was true.

Five years of marriage and Liam had slept with pretty much every fuckable actress there is.

"Miss, aren't you his personal assistant? How could you not have known that?" a reporter asked, shoving the microphone she was holding towards my mouth without regard for whether it would hit my face or not, and it did, knocking my glasses off.

I did not answer her. Instead, I crouched down to get my glasses only to realize that a tear had fallen on the floor. At first, it was only one drop, but as I continued to stare at my glasses that had a small crack in the lens, I noticed how blurry my vision became, and that I was already crying.

I tried my best to suppress the unimaginable pain I was feeling, but it was impossible to do so with the crowd swarming in my direction.

My tears and misery seemed to amuse the reporters and another wave of camera flashes blinded me. I could even hear some of them shout, "More tears! Come on! Cry some more! Do it for the camera!"

I have been in the showbiz industry for a long time and knew that none of the people in front of me cared about what I was feeling. They only see me as headlines, not a human with feelings, not a wife who had just caught her husband cheating.

Our divorce was shown on national TV, broadcast on the radio, and published in newspapers and gossip magazines, so, naturally, it didn't take long for the court to officially terminate our marriage because of the attention it was receiving.

"In light of the evidence and arguments presented... the financial assets shall remain in the possession of Mr. Liam Tate," the judge declared.

Years of my life... reduced to nothing in one sentence. All my hard-earned money, gone.

That day, Liam walked out of the courtroom with his head held up high, waving at his cheering fans who waited outside. While I slipped out the back like a criminal, all because those crazy fangirls would throw things at me again. Hurtful words, or just rocks they picked at the side of the road.

With nowhere to go, no money in my bank, no coins in my purse, I returned to my parents' house, hopeful that they would rejoice now that they had their only daughter back after finally realizing that her college sweetheart was not the one for her. But they only screamed at my face the moment I knocked on the familiar door of a place I once called home.

"You humiliated us! Get out! You are not our daughter anymore!"

Their words struck me like never before. How could they do this to their own blood? But then again, I was the one who disobeyed their warning. When they told me that marrying young is stupid, I still eloped with Liam and now look at where it brought me.

"I'm really sorry, Kerri." My only friend, Alina, was tearful as she walked me out the door of her small apartment. I had been crashing at her couch for a few days, but unfortunately, Liam's fans had discovered I was staying here, so they began vandalizing Alina's home. "I swear, once this issue dies down, my door is always open for you."

But several days later, my separation from Liam was still the talk of the town. Every media company was milking this issue to gain money. They painted me as the villainous ex-wife, but in reality, I was the victim, yet they sided with the man who has power.

"Wait!" I knocked my hands against the bus that was already moving, so it stopped momentarily to let me climb inside. "Thank you," I nodded at the driver, pulling my hood down to hide my face.

I dropped a few coins on the slot, coins I scooped out from the park's wishing fountain, and took my seat at the farthest, determined to keep my head down.

Not because I did not want people to recognize me, but because everywhere I go, I see Liam's face. Billboards of him were scattered all over the city, his TV commercials were playing at every diner and restaurant. I hear his voice on almost all the radio shows.

Pictures of his smile were everywhere, the same smile I thought was only for me, plastered across every part of the city as if he owned even the air I breathe.

I hate the fact that our divorce skyrocketed his career. I bet he's thinking that he should have gotten rid of me sooner if he had known this would happen.

"He's so hot," I heard a giggling voice behind me, while another one gasped in response. "But he's a playboy!"

"So? That is one of his charms."

Disappointed. I forgot that people will overlook one's crimes as long as they are hot and six foot tall.

I hear them swoon and whisper about my ex-husband again and again, while I tug my coat tighter around me, wishing that this bus ride would come to an end soon.

When I reached my destination, I hurriedly stepped off of the bus before those girls – those fans – recognized me. As I stepped out, my gaze momentarily lifted, and it landed straight onto another billboard. Bigger than anything. And Liam's face loomed over me, this time advertising a toothpaste. With a cheeky grin as if mocking the situation I was in after our divorce.

He did tell me constantly during our entire marriage that I was nothing without him.

You are right, Liam. I am nothing, and I have nothing... You took it all with you.

I walked faster, rubbing my hands together to keep myself warm on this freezing winter's night, but just as I was about to turn to a corner, a forceful hand grabbed me by the hair and roughly pulled me into a narrow alley, slamming me against a dumpster so hard I fell down and was forced to look up at the three girls towering before me.

I have been harassed previously by Liam's fans, but I have never encountered such unhinged downright violence as this, to the point that my body was trembling in fear.

"It really is her."

"Hey, you're Liam Tate's ex, right? It would be so embarrassing if we pulled the wrong girl, you know."

"Damn, you look quite a miserable bitch."

I opened my mouth to speak, but they shoved me again and my bag slipped from my shoulder, exposing its pathetic contents – a few coins, free coupons, and my broken glasses.

They laughed, cruel and deafening. While my mind had already turned into autopilot. Instinctively curling my body to shield myself from whatever they throw at me.

One pulled me by the hair, one kept slapping my face, while the other kicked me at my sides. They were relentless, and although I could stand up for myself and fight back, I didn't, because if I was injured enough, I could stay at a nearby clinic for the night. I get to sleep on a bed for free.

But then – silence.

Heavy footsteps followed, slow and deliberate. Then the air shifted, and numerous presences were felt.

I couldn't open my eyes fully from the pain, and I still kept my head buried under my arms, but I could hear the girls' hurried footsteps rushing away from the scene like spooked rats.

Oh, good.

The police must have arrived. I am saved.

"Chase them..." A deep voice cut through the alley, it was ice-cold. "...break all their limbs,"

What?

A police officer won't order such a thing, and not in a way as though they were ordering a cup of coffee.

I slowly lifted my head from the ground and caught sight of a tall man dressed in a long black coat that swept behind him as he walked. He stopped just in front of me, standing there, rather protectively, while he kept his eyes in the direction where the girls ran off too.

I followed his gaze to the other end of the dark alley and saw other men, dressed in black, dragging the three girls who ganged up on me, and they were roughly grabbed by their arms.

"N-no! Wait! We were just–"

A scrunch of bones along with their ear-piercing screams tore across the place, yet suspiciously enough, not a single passerby arrived to see what the ruckus was about nor came to their rescue. I didn't even see what was done to them since the tall man crouched down in front of me, as if shielding my eyes from a brutal scene.

His hand reached for my face and I flinched at his icy touch but later melted into a soothing warmth as his thumb gently wiped my tears and the streak of blood on my cheeks. It was an unexpected softness from a man who commanded his underlings to break the bones of teenage girls.

His overwhelming presence alone kept me stunned at my spot, and I stared at him. His deep voice spilled from a perfect pair of lips, his emerald eyes below his dark brows stared back at me and his black curls framed his face. A face I did not recognize, but I knew, and I felt, that this person was not a police officer, not a savior, but someone far more dangerous.

And as if sealing a fate, he spoke again in a velvety voice, his lips curled in a small smile.

"Darling, you have been used by men who promised you heaven... how about making a deal with the devil instead?"

When I woke, my vision blurred and my whole body ached like never before.

Then I remembered why – I was cornered in an alley and was beaten by Liam's crazy fans, but then I was rescued... by a man who claims to be the devil.

"The name is Arlo Frantz, darling." A voice spoke across from me, a deep rumble I felt in my chest.

My eyes caught sight of the man leaning back against his leather chair.

And almost immediately, my blood heated to an impossible level when I heard his voice again, either because I still recall how ruthless he sounded when he ordered those girls to have their limbs broken... or... I was just smitten by his appearance.

Up close, I began filling in the gaps in my earlier assessment about him. He was beautiful in a dark way – dressed in darkness from his pitch-black hair to his suit. Shadows pooled around him like a throne sculpted for demons – that, or I am too dizzy.

I had always thought that no man would ever rival Liam's handsomeness, but seeing this person now, I was wrong.

"Where am I?" I hadn't realized that my curious gaze stayed on his face far too long, and I scrambled to break the silence between us.

The room was dimmed, but my sense of smell wasn't so busted from the beatings to not know this place smelled luxurious, contrary to the garbage-filled alley I remember so well.

"You're in my office," His lips curved into a harsh smile, drawing attention to his strong jaw.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable.

I fidgeted and crossed my legs, only to feel regret washing over me when I saw his eyes drop to my exposed legs, feeling the weight of his fiery gaze settle over me-it was intense and consuming, as if he could see far deeper than I wanted him to.

I can't help but think that even though I had escaped Liam's crazy fangirls, I might have ended up somewhere far more dangerous.

His lingering gaze went back up to my eyes when I spoke, "Why did you bring me here?" That question had been burning in my mind for quite a while.

Why did this strange man save me in the first place when almost every single person in this country hated me down to the core...?

Then, without warning, he leaned forward.

"Marry me," he says, once again in a smooth manner as if he was ordering coffee. "Marry me and I will help you,"

Marry him? This person who has no remorse for his violent actions?

Those words made anger gather in my chest.

Because it made me remember what I once heard from a man who promised me the world, but once I signed our wedding certificate, he hid me like a crime as if I was the most shameful thing to ever happen to him.

Startled by the ridiculous offer I was given, I scoffed and shook it off with a nervous laugh, "Are you not aware that conversations between two strangers usually starts with 'Nice to meet you'?"

But this man, Arlo, was not laughing.

In fact, his initial devilish smile had disappeared.

He remained serious as his gaze was still locked onto mine – steady, and terrifying.

Whatever he said had no ounce of a joke which scared me even more, prompting me to abruptly stand up, eyes flickering from side to side to find the exit, but it was too dark to even see anything.

"You must be joking! A normal person won't just throw out a proposal like that."

"But I am not a normal person," he retorted. "I am Arlo Frantz," he said, as if expecting I should know the name, but it didn't ring a bell.

"Yeah, and I'm the President of the United States," I hissed, sarcasm dripping in every word I spat.

I was beginning to get tired of everything.

I had just survived a deadly encounter with Liam's fans and god knows what else is waiting for me next, but I do know a wedding with a strange man isn't in my calendar.

"Let me go, I do not know you, and you do not know me-"

"You are Kerri Coleman, but after your divorce, you dropped that last name, but it still haunts you wherever you go... so why not change it to Frantz?"

He was not smiling, not even moving. His steady gaze held mine, like a predator watching its prey struggle.

But I refuse to get tied down to another loveless marriage.

From the villainous coldness in his voice, I know that he was not offering kindness, he was offering a deal.

A deal that I might regret soon.

"Mr. Frantz," My fists throbbed from clenching so tight, but the pain was nothing compared to the fury of being treated like an object, that I was only something to be passed around. "My last marriage destroyed me, I won't walk straight into another. No matter what you offer,"

There was a flicker in his eyes, almost destroying that devilish aura he had after hearing my trembling voice.

"Even if I offer the chance to make your ex-husband crawl, broken, and beneath your heel?"

I admit, hearing that made me think for a moment.

Imagining Liam, the man who wasted my younger years away and discarded me once he got his goal, groveling on my feet for forgiveness made me ecstatic. I almost cracked a smile.

My fist loosened, and my heart pounded as if trying to jump towards the temptation that spilled from this man's perfect pair of lips.

Fire ignited under my skin as I was reminded by all the hardships I went through, but I quickly dimmed it down before I took a bite from that forbidden fruit.

"I refuse,"

My answer made Arlo's eyes slightly widen. He must have been so sure that I would accept his deal, but I won't sell myself like that again.

His gaze steadied, and he leaned back against his chair again. "I understand... but I know you'll come back," he flashed a knowing smile, as if he knew I would come knocking down on his door again.

He stood up and approached me, while I instinctively raised my arms up as if preparing for a fight, but seeing me react like this made him laugh instead, a smooth, velvety laugh that sent chills down my spine.

This man is dangerous.

He could just ask his underlings to kill me, bury my body, and no one would know I had disappeared – in fact, the world would have rejoiced if I just dropped dead.

The media would not mourn me, they would feast on my death just like they did with my divorce.

"I won't lay a hand on you, darling." He leaned forward, dangerously close to my neck since I felt his warm breath caressing my skin.

Certain that he would bite a chunk of my flesh, I instinctively covered my neck with my hand and leaned away.

"Don't approach me so brazenly," I hissed, and he did take a step back, respecting my wishes, but his smile had dropped and was, once again, replaced with a serious expression.

"Pierce, escort her outside." He spoke in a calm tone.

I looked to my side and a tall man emerged from the shadowy corner, as if he had been standing there all along as quietly as possible.

I left the room as fast as I could without stealing one last glance at the man who offered me a ticket to destroy Liam's career, though the delicious image of that lingered in my mind.

"Follow me," this man called 'Pierce', led me through a series of corridors until we finally reached the elevator and rode it down all the way to the first floor.

Pierce opened the car's door for me and I slid inside as fast as I could, terrified that one of Liam's fans were waiting to ambush me again.

"Where to?" Pierce spoke for the first time, a low and emotionless tone.

I didn't think that Arlo would have me escorted all the way, so I didn't prepare an answer to his question.

I have no home.

I have nowhere to go to.

"Uhh..." I began, racking my mind for a place to go to. Then I remember I was ambushed and might need medical care, "The... city hospital, please."

Pierce looked at me from the rear mirror, narrowing his eyes.

"What?" I ask with furrowed brows.

"But Sir Frantz has already treated your injuries-" He abruptly stopped and began driving, avoiding eye contact.

It felt as though he wasn't supposed to say that.

I looked down on my hands and saw that my wounds were indeed wrapped carefully with bandages, then I reached for my face to feel a plaster at the same spot where I was slapped repeatedly.

Arlo Frantz treated me? That's outrageous coming from a man who spits commands of brutality.

"Would you like to listen to the radio?" I heard Pierce's voice again and I nodded.

He must have seen me clutching my hair out of frustration.

I want anything to keep my mind away from Arlo's rattling proposal.

I leaned my head against the car window, desperate for some music – but instead, Liam's voice cut through the soft static of the radio.

Of course, he's everywhere.

"Please welcome Hollywood's golden boy!" The DJ swooned, ecstatic. "Tell us, what's your secret? How did you build your career from the ground up?"

It was because of me. I built his career.

"I never gave up, that's how I did it." I hear his humorless laugh and my eyes rolled all the way back.

The DJ crooned, "And the rumors? We hear that you got help behind the scenes. I don't know, from a certain assistant, slash ex-wife, for instance?"

Liam's tone became confident, as if he was spilling the truth. "Every bit of success I have today is because I earned it. No one helped me, I did it myself."

I felt my nails digging into my palms. They almost spilled some blood.

You did it yourself? Ridiculous!

I felt my throat closing in from the rage gathering in my chest.

The more the spotlight shone on him, the darker the shadows were where I stood.

All those years I spent devoted to building his career, all of them, my efforts, erased... just like that.

Tears burned my eyes, and it felt like lava as it dripped down on my cheeks.

The next thing I knew, I was back in Arlo's cavernous office, slamming the doors open without care to see him leaning in his chair as if expecting me to arrive.

"Fine," My voice was harsh and loud.

He tilted his head, amused. "Fine what?" He wanted me to say it myself. He wanted to hear the words.

"I will marry you,"

Then comes his wide smirk, devilish and triumphant.

He looked like he had just won a game, but I don't care.

I would bring Liam down even if it meant making a deal with this devil of a man.

His POV

I hear the door roughly slide open.

Then a wailing man was dragged in and was forced to kneel in front of me.

Puffing a smoke out, I looked down on him, groveling on the floor and crawling towards my feet to beg for forgiveness, but before he could even stain my expensive shoes with his filthy blood, Pierce stopped him by the collar and slammed him back.

"Please... please..." I hear his whimpers.

I see his bloodied nose and his busted lips from the beating he had received from my men, but it isn't enough to pay for the crime he committed.

"I didn't know it was her... her face was covered... please spare me!" He reeks of fear, as he should.

I rest my chin on my hand, thinking about his punishment.

On the outside, I was calm, but inside I was seething with rage.

He touched her.

He dared to put his hands on her and pulled her by the hair.

"Which hand did you use?" I cut in.

My voice was neutral, smooth, almost too soft towards a man who did something worthy of death.

He swallowed hard, choking on his own sobs.

He didn't answer, so I stood up from my seat and moved towards him, my slow footsteps served as a countdown to something inevitable.

My men tightened their grip on him when he planned to run away as he saw me approach, pressing him down hard against the floor.

"I asked a question, or am I talking to a dead man?" I asked, my tone eerily calm.

He finally nodded, "It was... it was my right hand, but I swear, Mr. Frantz, I didn't hurt her."

What I hate the most are people who refuse to own up to their mistakes, even when there was already proof... he should have hid it better.

"The CCTV footage from the bank says otherwise," I stepped on his right hand, slowly crushing it down with my own weight. "I saw her wince in pain, you hurt her," I added.

He tried to suppress his screams, but the pain was too much that he let it slip, tearing through the empty warehouse.

"Please forgive me! Please forgive... I was wrong!" He sounded more desperate, so I lifted my foot and walked back to my seat.

"If you know you did something wrong, justice must be served then," How ironic for me to speak of justice when I have evaded the law countless times.

Relief seemed to wash over the man's face, "Yes, I will serve time in prison-"

"Who said anything about prison?" I stopped him, leaning back against my chair and snapping my finger to gain Pierce's attention.

After working under me for a decade, Pierce already knew exactly what I wanted and immediately brought out a gleaming blade.

In my world, I decide what punishment to give.

"Cut off his right hand," I huffed out.

His tortured screams echoed as Pierce pressed the blade down while the rest of my men pinned him on the floor, their faces expressionless since this is a daily occurrence in our line of work.

The sound of flesh tearing and bones cracking was a symphony to my ears, a music that somehow dimmed the rage I was initially feeling after I found out that this filth of a man had hurt her...

When his hand had fully been cut off, he clutched the stump where it used to be and cried louder.

"Spread the word," I spoke, pulling out her photo from my pocket and sliding it towards his direction. "Anyone who dares touch this woman loses more than their hands next time,"

I snapped my fingers once more, and they dragged him out of my sight, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Except for Pierce, "Sir," he stood beside me with a crystal glass and I took it, letting the whiskey burn as it slid down my throat. "Mrs. Coleman had gone back to her work immediately after the robbery. She didn't ask for treatment for the injuries she got."

I leaned back, for a long moment, I just sat there and stared at the ceiling.

"Haah, should I just kill her husband?" I let my thoughts run freely, but Pierce was always there to ground me, weighing out the pros and cons of my horrid desires.

"Unfortunately, making Hollywood's biggest actor disappear won't be an easy feat, sir."

He's right, that man seemed to be untouchable nowadays, and I know it's because of her.

Tch.

Such boundless talent wasted on a vermin like Liam Tate.

I should have made her mine in the first place, I should not have allowed him to approach her that day... things would have been different for her, and for me.

So, imagine my fury when I saw the news on TV about her divorce.

Her photo was shown across every screen in the city. A woman suffering from a messy scandal.

She was disheveled, and her eyes were always red from continuous crying, from carrying years of sacrifice only to be discarded aside like trash by the man she built into a star.

The vultures constantly circled around her. Every reporter and magazine vilified her, shredding her reputation, and every fan sharpened their pitchforks and demanded her punishment.

My heart hurt for her but all I could hear that day was blood rushing in my ears and my deafening pulse of excitement.

She's divorced and alone.

Despite her cruel fate, I can't help but smile.

A dangerous smile from a man who had been waiting for so long.

Finally. The moment I had been waiting for had arrived, and the universe served it to me on a silver platter.

Kerri, the woman I desired, the woman that plagued my dreams, is broken, betrayed and vengeful.

Perfect.

Because a woman who has lost everything doesn't need comfort.

She needs a devil.

And I'm the only man wicked enough to play that role for her.