The Devil Who Claimed Me

Chapter 15: Men like us don’t do love.

Lucas went silent on the other end of the line. It wasn’t the order that stunned him. He had carried out far crueler commands without blinking. What unsettled him was the realization that Dominic had grown attached to Mila, and this attachment would soon transform into love.

It was a danger sign Lucas couldn’t ignore.

"Is it necessary?" he asked carefully. "Those guys have been punished already. They were banned from the bar."

He thought it was enough for what they had done. But Dominic wanted a more severe punishment.

"This is not enough," Dominic snarled. "They dared to harass women. They will do it again in other places if they aren’t punished severely."

Lucas recognized that tone. Once Dominic decided something, no one could change it.

Lucas exhaled with resignation. "You are getting emotionally attached to her."

Dominic didn’t respond. That silence confirmed everything.

Lucas’ voice turned serious. "That woman can become your distraction. Worse, your weakness. In our world, we can’t be weak."

Dominic’s back stiffened. Every word Lucas said was true.

"You can’t afford emotional attachment," Lucas cautioned him, "especially not to an ordinary woman who has no idea what kind of world you belong to."

Dominic’s fingers tightened around the phone, a vein twitching on his forehead.

"If you want a woman in your bed, you have options," Lucas went on. "But love? Men like us don’t do love."

A tense pause followed momentarily.

"Emotions cloud judgment. They create hesitation. And hesitation gets people killed. That’s what we learned from our boss, Alejandro. Have you forgotten that?" Lucas asked, deliberately bringing up Alejandro, knowing how much Dominic admired him.

Dominic had not forgotten anything. But he remained silent.

"She doesn’t belong to our world," Lucas’ tone softened a bit. "And she never will. She saved you. And you saved her tonight. You are even. Leave her house. End this before it becomes something you can’t control. Don’t think she will fall for someone like us. She will hate you the moment she learns who you actually are."

The last words hit Dominic hard. He had seen fear in countless eyes. He had witnessed rage, submission, and even admiration. But hatred from Mila?

It was unacceptable.

"Our enemies are watching. If they learn you care about someone, they will use her against you. They will hurt her to break you. Are you willing to put her life at risk?"

That question pierced deeper than anything else. Dominic had walked through danger without flinching. He had faced death head-on so many times that it had stopped scaring him.

But the thought of Mila getting hurt because of him made him hesitate.

Dominic had always known the rules of their world – no attachments, no weakness, no soft spots. Yet Mila had become exactly that in just a few days.

He was attracted to her and wanted her not only in his bed, but in his life. He desired to wake up beside her every morning, hear her voice, and watch her smile. For the first time in his life, he had imagined something beyond bloodshed and power.

But when he thought his enemies could hurt her to break him, his confidence wavered.

’I can’t be with her,’ he realized.

He made his heart steel and decided to leave her, but not immediately. He wanted to be with her for some time and say a proper goodbye before disappearing from her life completely.

"I am aware of your concern," he finally spoke. "I won’t fall for her. Don’t worry."

"I trust you," said Lucas. "Then I’ll arrange your stay."

"Don’t be rushed," Dominic cut in. "My wounds aren’t healed yet."

Because of tonight’s altercation, the pain increased. Luckily, the stitches didn’t come out.

"I still need a skilled doctor. I’ll stay here until our plan is executed. After that, I’ll leave her. I won’t contact her again."

Lucas knew Dominic never broke his word. So he didn’t press further. "Alright. Be careful."

The line went dead.

Dominic lowered the phone slowly. His thoughts drifted back to Mila. In just a short time, she had changed something inside him.

With her, he wasn’t the merciless devil everyone feared. He could smile, talk softly, and feel emotions he had never felt before.

She made him want a different life, a peaceful one, without blood, betrayal, and war. But that world didn’t exist for men like him.

His life was surrounded by constant danger. One mistake could end everything. There was no place for someone as bright as Mila in that darkness. Their paths were never meant to cross.

"Love isn’t meant for me," he breathed. "I can’t put her in danger."

He wouldn’t, couldn’t fall for her. If walking away was the only way to keep her safe, he would do it.

The next morning...

Mila woke up. Her head throbbed.

"Hiss..." She pressed her fingers on her temple. Fragments of last night’s incidents returned. She recalled getting drunk with Lara and then those three drunkards. When she thought of those leering eyes and hands touching her, she felt her skin prick with disgust.

"I shouldn’t have drunk that much," Mila muttered regretfully.

Then she remembered stumbling with that injured man outside the restroom and meeting with a masked man, whose eyes reminded her of Big Guy.

"Wait. Was it big guy?"

Those grey eyes seemed familiar.

’But how could it be him?’ she questioned herself.

The man she had seen last night had been beaten brutally.

"No, no. It can’t be big guy."

To her, an injured man couldn’t beat someone else in that way. But those eyes were just like his.

Curious, she decided to ask him herself. She stepped out into the living room and found him seated on the sofa, sipping coffee, reading a newspaper.

He looked calm, composed, and of course, dashing. He carried an aura that filled the room.

Mila stood there, watching him. Slowly, nostalgically, she stepped toward him.

Hearing the footsteps, he glanced up. When his gaze landed on her, he smiled. "You are awake." He set the cup down. "How are you feeling? Any headache?"

Mila flushed instantly. "Um. I’m fine."

He humped as he picked up a glass of juice he had prepared for her and held it out for her. "Drink this."

Mila took a second before taking it. "Thanks."

She sat down and took a sip, sneakily watching him.

Dominic continued reading as if he had found something interesting to read.

"Did you go out last night?" she asked. "To have some fun? To a bar?"

He glanced at her. He knew what she had on her mind. But he pretended to be puzzled.

"A bar? I haven’t fully recovered yet. And my memory is still not back yet. Why would I go anywhere?"

Mila regretted asking. She thought she had mistaken someone else for him. Maybe it was because of the same eye color. Or maybe the alcohol had tricked her.

"It was you who went to a bar," he added. "You got drunk. Someone dropped you off."

"Uh?" Her cheeks flushed even redder. "That masked man came here!"

Dominic nodded, still pretending to be clueless. "He wore a mask. I don’t know why."

He folded the newspaper and put it away. "By the way, who was he? A friend? Or your new lover?" He deliberately asked that question to know her heart.

Mila blinked, speechless.