Waking up with Damien in my bed, next to me, is not something I will get used to anytime soon. He looks so peaceful, like an angel. After all, he used to me an angel so maybe that is why he has these two different sides to himself. He shows me his love and gentleness, as well as his wrathful side.

I'm shuffling around in my room getting ready for work. It was a Friday, so I was hoping, and excited to spend some time with Damien after work.

I slept through my alarm a little so I'm trying to rush as I try to get dressed, nearly tripping as I try to slip on my tights, dark grey wool shorts and a nicely fitted navy sweater.

Damien is still sleeping straight on his back stretched out on my bed when I finish getting ready. I slip on my oxfords and walk over to him, bend down and kiss his lips. His eyes slowly shoot open and he spoons me to his naked body.

"Damien!"

"Good morning Anna."

He sniffs the crook of my neck.

"Hmm you smell divine."

"I have work to get to, I don't want to be late."

He pulls away so I can look at his face, he was pouting, and I burst into a fit of laughter. Hurting my stomach from it all.

'What's so amusing, Miss Bennet?"

"I had no idea the devil could be so needy, like a little child."

"You forget I am the thirty odd centuries old."

Now I'm the one pouting.

"Baby." He grabs my chin with his hand tilting it up so that I look at him. Lovingly, he kisses my lipstick covered lips. "You don't want me to make you late for work, do you?"

I roll my eyes at him and pull away. Getting off the bed and standing back up to my feet, I tuck the loose tail of my sweater back into my shorts.

"Do you want me to leave my keys for you?"

I grab my phone and put it in my bag, putting on my coat.

"No need, I wanna drop you off at work." He stands up from my bed and walks over to where his clothes lie on my chest of drawers. "I want to take you somewhere after you're done working."

I stand still confused.

"Eh, how do you expect to take me to work if you don't even have your car?"

Midway getting dressed he turns around and gives me one of his looks that tells me I should know better. Then it hits me.

"You had your advisor bring it overnight, didn't you?"

"Yes."

I sigh as I watch him put his shoes on. He stands up, walks up to me and kisses my cheek.

"Come, we don't want you being late, do we?"

Without saying anything I follow him out of my apartment, locking the door after myself.

When he pulls up outside my work building, he leans his hand over to rest on the back of my seat. I smirk thinking about how he thinks he's so smooth. Can the devil be this full of himself? Probably.

"I'll pick you up at five," he says looking seamlessly pleased with himself.

"See you then."

I give him a chaste kiss on the lips before reaching out my hand to open the door, but he stops me.

"Before I forget to tell you." He places his hand on my thigh. "We need to get you a mouse trap."

I look at him confused. "What do you mean a mouse trap?"

"I found a mouse in your bathroom last night, killed it and flushed it down the toilet."

"I have mice in my house!" I'm alarmed. Bugs and spiders, I can deal with having in my house, but mice! Those small squeaky little creatures, and how did Salem not find it first? Maybe because we were in the bathroom?

He squeezes my thigh a little firmer. "Don't worry I took care of it."

Hmm, of course he did.

"My hero," I say in a high-pitched voice, kissing his cheek and leaving to head towards the main reception before he can say anything else.

At work I was given a number of things to proof-read, from website posts, to media reports and two manual scripts. I haven't even had time to properly eat lunch never mind check my phone. I knew I should give Lily and Hardy a call to tell them my update on my situation with Damien. Maybe I'll do that later, or tomorrow. 

When I slip out of my office into the kitchen to fetch myself some tea, I notice Nina sitting down at one of the chairs. She's dressed in all black like she is ready for a funeral. Her head is down on the table, forehead resting between her long arms, and she sounds like she is crying. I debate going up to her but resist and decide to show her some of my good manners.

"Nina?"

She doesn't answer, just continues to weep.

"Are you okay?" I ask, this time in a much more sympathetic voice.

I walk up to her and sit on a seat next to her at the table. Naturally, my hand wants to wander to caress her back or head in a way to comfort her, but my hand is in the air as I resist before placing both of them on my lap. My fingers twiddling as I wait for her to speak, but she doesn't.

"Nina what's wrong?" I ask her again.

She raises her head and looks up at me. Her eyes blood shot red from all the crying.

"My pet died."

Her chin is shaking, and I can't tell if it's because of all her crying or from her unexpected growing antagonism.

"Someone murdered him!" she says through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry Nina, I..."

Midsentence she gets up and walks away shutting the door a little too aggressively behind her.

How strange. I know people can get attached to their animals but to have such a rash reaction to its death seems a little outlandish.

When 5pm comes around, I leap out of my chair in excitement when I receive a text from Damien saying he's waiting outside. Cursorily, I pack up my things into my bag, put on my coat and leave my office room locking the door after myself. Sophie at our reception looks at me as I walk past as if I am a crazy person with the biggest smile on my lips. I bite down on my lip to stop myself, but the grin just won't disappear.

I press the button to the elevator and as I wait, I hear my name being called out.

"Anna!"

I turn around and see Beatrice walking towards me. Her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail revealing her sharp features, wearing a light grey suit with white sneakers. She's also the main copyeditor.

"Beatrice, what's up?" I smile at her.

She stands beside me waiting for the elevator doors to open. She's leaning slightly to the side from the heavy bag on her shoulder.

"Have you heard what happened today?"

Damn, she also loves to gossip, but then again, what woman doesn't?

The elevator doors open, and I allow her to walk in first.

"What happened?" I ask her curiously as I walk in after her, pressing the ground floor button and allowing the doors to close.

"Nina was sent home by Mr Murphy because she was having a hysteric attack over a dead pet, talk about attachment issues."

"Oh, I saw her crying in the kitchen earlier today," I add to the gossip.

"Around what time?"

"Eh, lunch time?"

Beatrice snorts to herself as if she remembered a private joke. I shove my hands in the pockets of my black coat.

"Do you know what kind of pet it was?" I ask out of rarity and to fill the silence with some sound.

"No idea."

Just then the elevator doors open, and we walk out, both nodding at the same time at the girls behind the main reception desk.

We walk out into the somewhat cloudy Vancouver and my eyes immediately spot Damien leaning against his shiny car. He looks so good in his coat and a dark green sweater, hair pulled back to the side.

Completely forgetting that Beatrice is with me I leap myself into his arms, pressing my lips to his very briefly.

"Hi," I murmur.

"Hey baby," he says letting me go and taking my heavy work bag from me.

"Why didn't you tell me your boyfriend was so good-looking?"

I'm suddenly startled back to reality, turn around and Beatrice is staring in awe. I feel a bright red patch forming on the apples of my cheeks.

"Yeah...amm..."

I don't know what to say to her. Though a sudden surge of jealousy hits me. He was mines. My king of hell. Quickly, I shake the negative through out of me, there was no reason for me to be suspicious, she was already married.

"We'll talk about it all on Monday, have a good evening you two."

I turn around to face Damien again and he's looking at me perplexed.

"Is she always this upfront?" he grunts.

"Kinda, I guess." I give him a reassuring smile. "Where are you taking me?"

He opens the passenger door for me.

"My apartment," he states matter-of-factly.

"You're apartment?"

I slide into the passenger seat. He hands me my bag and I place it on the floor beside my feet while he closes the door. I watch as he walks around and slides into the driver's seat.

"I thought the cottage was your place."

Without looking at me he turns on the engine.

"The cottage is just a small extra little place I have."

I don't say or ask anything else and allow us to drive off in peace. I try looking out of the windows to see if I can recognise the streets to figure out where we are going. I don't see too many clues. It's not until he pulls over at Richards Street into a huge apartment block, driving down into the car park that I realise just where he lives.

"This is your place?" I ask surprised feeling like my words are breaking as I look at him amused, even before I have seen his actual place.

"It's just a small penthouse," he states as he parks and cuts off the engine.

"A penthouse!"

He snickers at my reaction, unbuckling my seatbelt as I'm left immobilised.

"Don't worry its nothing compared to my place in hell." He leaves his words hanging in the air as he gets out of the car, walks around and opens the passenger door for me. He holds out his hand and it takes me a few more seconds to recollect my shock before I take it and get out. He locks the car, taking my hand and guiding us towards a pulley.

"Just how rich are you?" I ask as he walks us into the elevator.

"Rich enough." He's smirking at me now, squeezing his hand around mines as he presses some buttons on the pad and it begins to shoot upwards.

"You know that doesn't answer my question and where in the world do you get all of your money from?"

I look up at him but he's staring in front. Patiently waiting for the elevator to arrive at its destination.

I exhale very loudly and wait with him for the doors to open. When they do, he guides me into the foyer, and I am mesmerised just by the look of everything. If I was in a cartoon show you would be able to see my jaw dropping right down to the ground.

There's huge windows from the ceiling to the floor with views of the city and mountains. No doubt he gets to enjoy some beautiful sunsets up in his sky castle. I snort thinking how ironic it is.

"What's so amusing?" he asks looking at me as he takes off his coat and flips it over his arm.

"You positioned yourself closer to heaven than hell."

"Well, I am original from heaven, remember?" he takes my hands and guides us further into the living room area. It is very spacious but has a lot of warm elements to it with how much furniture and décor is around. The walls are mainly cream coloured with enormous grey curtains covering most of the windows. They almost look like they are just there to collect dust. On the far side there is a huge fireplace blazing alight. It's all black concreate with black marble and gold accents.

As I walk further in dropping my bag on one of the dark grey sofas and taking off my coat I look around and notice so many paintings and sculptures. Of snakes and wings and demonic looking things.

The paintings are what intrigues me the most, particularly the one above the big mean fireplace. I walk over to get a closer look crossing my arms over my chest at the bloodcurdling look of it, yet it looked like something out of this world. There was God holding a big cross in the air. He was surrounded by angels and a golden halo, but that halo disappears into something dark. Some of the angels are falling, their wings being clipped off of them as they land on dark, cold looking ground. Some are screaming, but all are cheering for a man in the middle, covered in a red sash. It looks like he is holding a thunderbolt up in the air. Was this what fallen angels looked like? Was that man Damien or maybe his father?

"Interesting painting isn't it?" says Damien standing beside me startling me back to reality. I look up at him and he is gazing at the painting almost like he is in discomfort looking at it for too long.

"What does it represent?" I ask him, feeling pusillanimous.

"How easily God himself casts out his angels." He sighs. "It was painted by Gustave Doré in the 1800's."

"Is...is this an original?" I asked surprised pointing at it. He turns around to face me, his face unreadable.

"Of-course it is, who do you think gave him the inspiration?"

I open my mouth and close it again. He really has been around for quiet the time. It also means that most if not all of these paintings are originals and that puts me in awe.

"Who's the man holding the thunderbolt?" I end up asking, pointing with my chin at the painting.

"My father."

"Satan?"

I glace up at him and he wraps his arm around my waist.

"Yes." He presses me into him so that our bodies are touching side by side. "Come, don't you want to see the rest of the penthouse?" he raises his eyebrow at me.

"Yeah, of course."

We walk to the other side and in one of the corners of the big living room there is a big cosy chair with a stand to hold up a cello. It was of a dark brown wood and just above it was a shelf with a similar looking violin. Briefly I wondered if he still played. I remember him telling me, not to long ago that he used to play as a child, but then again, he never had much of a childhood. He's been a grown man for centuries.

We walk up a flight of stairs with black wood railings and he starts showing me some of the rooms, mainly just guest bedrooms and bathrooms that he never uses. There are more paintings around the hallways of some strange creatures and golden chandeliers.

"How many floors does this place have?" I ask as we begin walking up another flights of stairs.

"Only three, were going up to the rooftop now."

I resist commenting on how big and extra this place seems to be as we walk up to what looks like a cube made of glass. Damien opens a single door I didn't even know was there, lets me out first and I am greeted by the chilly air and some breath-taking views of the city.

"Wow." I'm enthralled. You can see 360-degree views of Vancouver. I can faintly see the north shore mountains.

"Damien, this is so pretty."

"Yeah but," he walks up right behind me, pressing himself against my back and wrapping his arms around me. "Not as pretty as you."

I smile holding onto his arms and we just look at the amazing view over the glass railings. The sunset is just beginning too, the sky bursting into bright orange and yellow hues. The sun setting and hiding behind the clouds. It was beautiful.

"Hmm, will you finally tell me where you get all of your money from?"

He spirals me around and sits us on some plush outdoor furniture around a blazing fire pit. I pull my legs over to myself as I twist myself to face him.

"Well..."

"It's a combination of things." He begins and I listen attentively. "Human inheritance, deals, mind control."

That is quite the combination he has told me, but it all seems so out of place, so...so confusing.

"There are a lot of rich people that go to hell, in a way I get all of their money, because of their sin of greed."

"What about mind control? That's what I'm interested in. Does it mean you can read minds and stuff?" I ask hesitantly trying to point to my head but instead my fingers grasp a bunch of my hair and fondle with it.

"I have some special gifts I suppose, one of them being mind control." He looks at me and notices just how confused I look. "I have the ability to control what people do."

I start biting on my thumbnail as I look away. This seems intense and I wonder if he has ever tried to use such a power on me, but unquestionably, he hasn't. He wouldn't do that, would he? I start to feel a little nervous, if he can control what a person does with their body, surely, he can read people's minds too. I inhale and exhale deeply as I recollect myself.

"Did you ever use that on me?" I ask finding the courage to look at him again. He looks somewhat worried as the crease between his eyebrows is beginning to form.

"No."

"How do I know you not lying?"

"Because, apart from keeping this secret from you, I have never lied to you."

"Surely, you must have debated using it on me then."

I look at him with my eyebrow raised. Lifting my chin up so I look more confident talking to him about this.

"Of-course I have, and I have tried the very first time we met, but for some reason I found something so alluring about you that I resisted."

I crease my eyebrows as I think about the first time we met. In a not so romantic way at the club.

He opens his mouth to begin speaking again but I interrupt, "Do you have any other powers?"

I shift myself so that I am sitting crossed legged facing him, straightening my back as I prepare my curiosity for his answer. He itches a little closer to me. His knee touching my leg.

"I believe humans call it super strength."

"That would be the right term, yes." I hesitate. I don't know what else to say. In one way, it feels so odd to have a boyfriend with super-powers, never mind being the devil. One that used to be a beautiful angel but fell from heaven from all the sins he and his followers committed.

"What are you thinking about?"

I peek back up to look at Damien, his staring interlude making me feel a little intimidated for a brief moment.

"It's just a lot to take in." I say feeling like I've said this a million times already.

"I know, but you know what might help?"

I look at him questionably.

"Dinner, aren't you hungry?"

I exhale. "Very."

He takes my hand and guides us back downstairs back into the living room area. I've no idea why I haven't noticed it before but there is a huge nook connected to the living room that holds the kitchen. I must've been too preoccupied looking at the painting above the fireplace. Near it there is also a big double door. It looks very old and heavy, all black with gold accents around each square detail, and demonic looking gold hook handles. I wonder where this door leads to. Maybe his bedroom or some kind of office.

The kitchen is a marvellous place, all white and marble. Totally not what I was expecting. There is a big bowl of perfect red apples, they look almost like they have been painted.

"Do these have some kind of symbolic meaning too?" I ask picking up one of the apples. Immediately that fresh apple scent engulfs my aura making me wanna take a bite.

"Adam and Eve."

I turn my head to face him and see that he is sitting on a bar stool on the kitchen island.

"A collection of apples my father used to tempt Eve."

I bite my lip as realisation hits me. Almost immediately I put down the apple back into the bowl and walk around to sit beside him.

"So, food..." I spread my legs a little and put my hand on the seat between them leaning slightly forward as I watch Damien fidget in his seat.

Suddenly, I'm startled with a strange figure appearing out of the corner holding up two plates of steak. They look exhausted but dressed somewhat presentably. As he puts down the plates in front of us without saying a world just nodding, I notice that each one of his wrists has a heavy looking metal bangle around it. It looks uncomfortable and my mind jumps into thinking that they remind me of handcuffs. Handcuffs that my dad is so used to wearing at this point.

"Please don't tell me you enslaved a poor innocent man," I whisper leaning slightly over to Damien as they leave the kitchen.

"Of-course not." He starts digging into his food, cutting a piece of steak with his knife and fork and putting it in his mouth. I gaze at him, my lips pressed into a hard-thin line as I wait for him to explain this situation to me.

He stops eating when he is done chewing, looks at me and right back down to his food. "He's my slave."

I'm stupefied at how easily that word comes out of his mouth, like he has zero sympathy for the poor chap.

I don't stay anything as I continue to stare at him flabbergasted as he continues to eat.

"There are people that make deals with me, it's one of the ways I can make money, but most of the time I prefer to take their souls, after, they go to hell to receive their punishment or become my slave, now eat Annabelle, if I recall you were very hungry."

"What do you do with their souls?" I ask as I turn in my seat and begin eating.

"Whatever I feel like doing with them."

I choke on my food when he says that, my mind going to all sorts of torturing techniques he could be using on them.

"Annabelle slow down!" He sounds alarmed as he starts patting my back. I cover my mouth as I continue to cough waving my other hand in the air to tell him to stop. He hesitates but stops patting my back and instead he massages me.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." I repeat as my coughing holts and I reach out to take a few sips of water. When I put it back down, I twist my head to look at him.

"I'm sorry I just...can't stop thinking about all the possible ways you could torture someone in hell."

He continues to rub my back as he looks at me sympathetically. "The possibilities are endless, but I won't talk about them if the topic makes you uncomfortable."

I nod giving him a shy smile.

"Let's just eat," I adjure him, my voice still a little cocky from the coughing.

We don't exchange anymore words as we eat, but as we do my mind thinks about just how much I've been able to get to know him the past week. There was so much to process and I make a mental list of everything that I found out about: he was the King of hell, he has super powers, he was richer than I expected, one of his demons is out of control and possibly after me and he tortures, and enjoys torturing human souls.

I'm just going to have to get over everything and let it all sink in without questioning it.

When we finish eating the poor slave takes our empty plates and starts cleaning them. When I turn to face Damien, he is drinking his glass of water.

"You know, you showed me all the amazing rooms in your penthouse but your bedroom."

He gives me an evil looking grin as he puts down his empty glass, stands up and takes out his hand for me to take. I look at it then back up at him, perplexed, raising my eyebrow at him.

"I was saving it for a special occasion, come I'll show you."

I take his hand jumping off the bar stool and follow him through the living room area, he opens a simple looking door and pulls me inside.

"Wow," I involuntarily let out with the sight.

I hear him lock the door causing me to turn around quickly.