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Warning!!!: This Chapter contains very explicit & detailed scenes that may be disturbing to some readers.
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Hela's Devil
Hela sat on the floor of her ruined apartment, surrounded by the wreckage of her life.
The silence was oppressive. Suffocating.
Her phone buzzed.
She stared at it for a long moment before picking it up.
Cousin.
Her hand trembled as she answered. "Yeah?"
"Hela." His voice was bright. Relieved. "They dropped the charges. All of them. We're free."
Hela closed her eyes.
He did it. The senator actually did it.
"That's—that's good," she managed.
"Good? It's fucking incredible! I don't know what you did, but—"
"Don't ask," Hela said sharply. "Just—don't."
There was a pause. "Okay. But Hela, seriously. Thank you. Whatever it cost, I—"
"I said don't ask."
"Right. Okay." He cleared his throat. "We're meeting at my place tonight. Whole crew. You should come."
"I will."
"You okay?"
No.
"I'm fine. I'll see you tonight."
She hung up before he could say anything else.
The phone buzzed again immediately.
Hela looked at the screen.
Richard Calloway.
Her stomach turned.
She answered.
"Hela." His voice was warm. Pleased. Teasing. "I kept my end of the bargain. Now it's your turn."
Hela's throat was tight. "When?"
"Now." The warmth in his voice shifted to something harder. Commanding. "Come here now."
"I—"
"Now, Hela."
The line went dead.
Hela sat there, staring at the phone.
You agreed to this. You knew what it would cost.
She stood slowly, her legs shaking.
For family. For survival.
She grabbed her keys and walked out the door.
***
The drive to his house took twenty minutes.
Hela didn't remember any of it.
One moment she was pulling out of her apartment complex. The next, she was parked in front of the sprawling estate in the hills.
You can still leave. You can drive away and never come back.
But her cousin would go to prison. The gang would collapse.
This is the price.
Hela got out of the car and walked to the front door.
She rang the bell.
The door opened almost immediately.
A woman stood there. Young. Too young. Mid-twenties at most, with blonde hair and a bright smile.
His new wife.
"You must be Hela!" The woman's voice was cheerful. Oblivious. "Richard's been expecting you. Come in, come in."
Hela stepped inside.
The house smelled like expensive cologne and fresh flowers. Everything was pristine. Perfect.
He always did like things clean.
"He's upstairs," the woman said, leading Hela toward the grand staircase. "In the bedroom. He said you'd know the way, but I thought I'd show you anyway."
Hela followed her up the stairs, her heart pounding.
You've done this before. You survived it then. You'll survive it now.
The woman stopped in front of a set of double doors. "Here we are!" She knocked lightly. "Richard? Hela's here."
"Send her in," came the voice from inside.
The woman opened the door and gestured for Hela to enter. "Have a nice visit!"
Hela stood in the doorway.
She couldn't move.
Richard Calloway stood by the window, backlit by the afternoon sun. He was wearing a black silk robe and nothing else.
He smiled when he saw her.
"Hela. You look beautiful."
Hela's feet were rooted to the floor. Her body was screaming at her to run. To turn around and leave and never come back.
Move. You have to move.
But she couldn't.
Richard's smile widened. "Come in. Close the door."
Hela's hand moved to the door handle. She pulled it closed behind her.
The click of the latch felt like a death sentence.
"That's better." Richard crossed the room slowly, his eyes roaming over her body. "It's been too long. I've missed you."
Liar.
Hela's throat was tight. She couldn't speak.
Richard stopped in front of her, close enough that she could smell his cologne. The same one he'd worn when she was fourteen.
Her stomach churned.
"You're trembling," he said softly. His hand reached out and touched her face.
Hela flinched.
Richard's smile didn't waver. "Still so shy. I always loved that about you."
I'm not shy. I'm terrified.
"Do you remember?" he asked, his thumb stroking her cheek. "Do you remember how good it used to be?"
I remember you holding me down. I remember crying into my pillow. I remember wanting to die.
"Yes," Hela whispered.
"Good." His hand slid down to her throat. Not squeezing. Just resting there. A reminder of his power. "Because tonight, we're going to relive those days. Every. Single. Moment."
Hela's stomach churned.
Richard's other hand moved to the tie of his robe. He pulled it loose, letting the fabric fall open.
You can do this. You have to do this.
He was already hard.
"Undress," he said.
Hela's eyes dropped to the floor.
"Look at me," Richard commanded.
Hela forced herself to look up.
Hela's hands were shaking. She pulled off her shirt slowly, her fingers fumbling with the buttons.
This isn't real. This isn't happening.
She unzipped her jeans and pushed them down. Stepped out of them.
Richard watched, his breathing growing heavier.
"The rest."
Hela unhooked her bra. Let it fall to the floor. Pushed down her underwear.
She stood there, naked and trembling.
"God, you're even more beautiful than I remembered." Richard stepped closer, his hands sliding over her hips. "Turn around."
Hela turned.
His hands moved over her back, her ass, squeezing and groping.
"Perfect," he murmured. "Absolutely perfect."
He guided her toward the bed. "On your knees."
Hela knelt on the mattress, her body trembling.
This isn't real. This isn't happening.
Richard climbed onto the bed behind her. His hands gripped her hips.
"Do you remember what you used to call me?" he asked, his voice low and rough.
Hela's throat was tight. She couldn't speak.
"Say it."
I hate you. I hate you so much.
"Daddy," Hela whispered.
"Louder."
"Daddy."
"Good girl." His hand slid between her legs, fingers pressing against her. "You're already wet. You want this, don't you?"
No. No, I don't.
But her body was responding. Betraying her.
"Yes," Hela said.
"Say it. Say you want me."
I want you dead.
"I want you, Daddy."
Richard groaned. "That's my girl."
He pushed inside her without warning.
Hela gasped, her hands gripping the sheets.
It's not real. It's not real. It's not—
Richard started moving. Hard. Rough. His hands gripped her hips so tightly she knew there would be bruises.
"Fuck, you feel good," he groaned. "Just like I remembered."
Fourteen years old. His hand over my mouth. "Don't scream. Don't make a sound."
Hela squeezed her eyes shut.
"Look at me," Richard commanded.
Hela turned her head.
He was smiling. Triumphant.
"Tell me you like it," he said.
I hate you.
"I like it, Daddy."
"Tell me you've missed this."
I've spent years trying to forget.
"I've missed this."
"Good girl." His thrusts grew harder. Faster.
Richard's hand slid around to her clit, rubbing in tight circles.
"Come for me," he growled. "Come for Daddy."
Hela feigned a moan. And her fake orgasm hit her like a wave, crashing over her, pulling her under.
Hela cried out, her body convulsing. Of course it was all an act. A man such as him could never actually make her feel anything other than rage.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
Richard groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Fuck, yes. That's it. That's my good girl."
He pulled out suddenly, leaving her empty and gasping.
"Turn around," he said. "On your knees. On the floor."
Hela's body moved mechanically. She slid off the bed and knelt on the carpet.
Richard stood in front of her, his cock still hard, glistening with her arousal.
"Open your mouth," he said.
Hela's stomach turned. But she opened her mouth.
Richard's hand tangled in her hair, gripping tight. He pushed his cock past her lips, sliding deep into her throat.
Hela didn't even gag, but she had to pretend, had to stroke his ego. Her hands flew up to his thighs.
"Hands down," Richard commanded. "Keep them at your sides."
Hela dropped her hands.
Richard started moving, fucking her mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts.
"That's it," he groaned. "Take it. Take all of it."
Fifteen years old. On my knees in his office. "If you tell anyone, I'll make sure your mother loses everything."
Richard pulled out, letting her gasp for air.
"Look at you," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "So beautiful like this. So obedient."
He pushed back in, deeper this time.
Hela pretended to gag again, saliva dripping down her chin.
"Good girl," Richard murmured. "Such a good girl."
He fucked her mouth for what felt like an eternity. Long, brutal strokes that made her empty inside.
Finally, he pulled out.
"On the bed," he said. "On your stomach."
Hela climbed onto the bed, her body shaking.
Richard's hand came down hard on her ass.
The crack echoed through the room.
Hela yelped, her body jerking forward.
"Count," Richard said.
Another slap. Harder this time.
"One," Hela gasped.
"Louder."
Slap.
"Two!"
Slap.
"Three!"
Richard's hand came down again and again, each strike harder than the last.
Hela's ass was on fire. She could feel the heat radiating from her skin, knew there would be marks.
For my cousin.
"Ten!" she cried out.
Richard's hand rubbed over the burning skin, soothing and possessive.
"Beautiful," he murmured. "You're so beautiful when you're marked."
His fingers slid between her legs.
"And so wet," he said, his voice pleased. "You love this, don't you?"
No. I don't. I don't.
But her body was betraying her again. Slick and ready.
"Yes," Hela whispered.
Richard climbed onto the bed behind her. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her up onto her knees.
He pushed inside her again, groaning at the sensation.
"Fuck, yes," he breathed. "So tight. So perfect."
He started moving. Short, desperate, rabbit strokes.
Rider did this. Rider made me do this.
Richard's hand came down on her ass again, making her cry out.
"Tell me you love it," he demanded.
"I love it."
Slap.
"Tell me you've been waiting for this."
"I've been waiting for this."
Slap.
"Tell me you're mine."
Never. I'll never be yours.
"I'm…I'm yours."
Richard's thrusts grew harder. Rougher. His fingers dug into her hips.
"That's right," he groaned. "You're mine. You've always been mine."
His hand moved to her hair, gripping tight and pulling her head back.
"Open your mouth," he said.
Hela obeyed.
Richard's fingers pushed past her lips, pressing down on her tongue.
"Suck," he commanded.
Hela sucked on his fingers, tasting salt and skin.
Richard pushed them deeper, making her gag.
"That's it," he murmured. "Choke on them."
His fingers pressed down on her tongue, sliding deeper into her throat.
Hela gagged, her body convulsing.
Can't breathe. Can't—
Richard pulled his fingers out, letting her gasp for air.
Then he pushed them back in.
Deeper this time.
Hela gagged again, saliva dripping down her chin.
"Good girl," Richard groaned. "Such a good girl."
He fucked her like that for minutes that felt like hours. His cock pounding into her from behind, his fingers choking her from the front.
Richard's thumb pressed against her clit, and she came with a strangled cry, her body convulsing around him.
"Fuck, yes," Richard groaned. "That's it. Come for me."
He pulled his fingers from her mouth and gripped her hips with both hands, pounding into her with brutal force.
Hela collapsed forward, her face pressed into the mattress, her body limp.
Richard followed moments later, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside her.
He collapsed on top of her, his weight crushing her into the bed.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of their breathing.
Then Richard rolled off her.
"God, that was incredible," he said, his voice satisfied. "Just like old times."
Hela lay there, staring at nothing.
This is what survival costs.
Richard's hand moved to her breast, squeezing lazily. "We're not done yet."
Hela lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling his weight crushing her. After what felt like an eternity, Richard rolled off her.
"That was perfect," he said, his voice lazy and satisfied. "We should do this more often."
Hela didn't respond.
She sat up slowly, her body aching.
Richard's hand moved to her thigh. "Where are you going?"
"I need to leave."
"Already?" He pouted. "We're just getting started."
"You got what you wanted," Hela said. Her voice was flat. Dead.
Hela pulled on her jeans. Her shirt. She didn't look at him.
"Hela."
She stopped.
"Say thank you."
I hope you choke.
"Fuck you."
Richard's smile widened. "With how much trouble that cousin of yours gets into trouble I'm sure I'll see you again."
Hela walked to the door.
She didn't look back.
***
The drive to her cousin's house was a blur.
Hela's hands were shaking on the steering wheel. Her body ached. She could still feel him inside her.
You survived. You did what you had to do.
But the cost—
Don't think about it. Don't think about anything.
She pulled up in front of her cousin's house twenty minutes later.
The street was lined with cars. Motorcycles. Trucks.
The whole crew is here.
Hela's stomach tightened.
Something's wrong.
She got out of the car and walked to the front door.
It opened before she could knock.
Her cousin stood there, his face grim. "Hela. Come in."
She stepped inside.
The living room was packed. Twenty men, maybe more. All of them looked tense. Angry.
"What's going on?" Hela asked.
Her cousin gestured for her to follow him into the kitchen.
When they were alone, he turned to face her. "We have a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
"While we were locked up, the Southside Kings moved in. They took over our territory. All of it."
Hela's blood went cold.
The Southside Kings.
She knew them. Everyone in the city knew them. They were brutal. Organized. Ruthless.
"How much did we lose?" she asked.
"Everything. The protection rackets. The loan operations. The smuggling routes." Her cousin's jaw was tight. "They hit us hard, Hela. And they're not giving it back."
Hela's mind was racing.
Rider set us up. Got us arrested. And while we were gone, the Kings moved in.
"Do we know who gave them the opening?" she asked.
"No. But it doesn't matter. What matters is getting our territory back."
Hela looked at him. "You want to go to war."
"We don't have a choice. If we don't fight back, we're done. The crew will scatter. We'll lose everything."
Everything.
Hela thought about the apartment. The files. The leverage.
I've already lost everything.
"What do you need from me?" she asked.
"Money. Connections. Whatever you can give us." Her cousin's eyes were hard. "We're going to take back what's ours. And we're going to make the Kings regret ever crossing us."
Hela nodded slowly.
Another war. Another fight.
She thought about Rider. About the Southside Kings.
Enemies on every side.
But underneath the exhaustion, underneath the pain, there was something else.
Steel.
You want a war? Fine. I'll give you a war.
"I'm in," Hela said.
Her cousin smiled grimly. "Good. Because we're going to need you."
They walked back into the living room.
The crew looked up as they entered. Faces hard. Eyes cold.
"Alright, listen up," her cousin said. "We're taking back our territory. And we're starting tonight."
There was a murmur of approval. Fists pounding on tables.
Hela stood at the back of the room, watching. She thought about Rider's smile. The senator's hands on her body. The wreckage of her apartment.
You all think you've won.
But they hadn't.
Not yet.
Hela's hands clenched into fists at her sides.
I'm going to destroy you.
But first, she had to survive the war.