Chapter 303 The Devil Returns

Liam was frozen for a moment, entirely unprepared for the force behind Vanessa’s kiss—the way her lips crashed into his, fierce and really hers. Her hands wrapped around his neck as though she couldn’t let him go. Time slowed, and for a second it felt like the world had narrowed to only her, only that moment.

Then his instincts snapped back fiercely. He gently but firmly removed her hands from his throat, pushing her back just enough to create distance. His breaths were shallow, heart pounding with adrenaline and tenderness. His touch was gentle as he guided her away from him.

Vanessa staggered back a step, clutching at the hem of her gown. Her eyes were wide, lips quivering. "I’m... I’m sorry," she whispered, choking on the last word. "I couldn’t control it."

Her voice cracked. He could hear it. The raw emotion spilling through the words.

Liam exhaled and softened. "It’s alright," he said quietly. His tone was steady, but inside his chest, everything had shifted. His heart pounded as he watched her struggle for composure again, shoulders trembling.

But he didn’t leave it there. He needed to do something more—something active. "There’s a way to help you," he said carefully. "Do you have anything here... that can make you sleep?"

Vanessa’s eyes flickered with urgency. She nodded, gaze darting toward the corner of the room. "There’s... a kit. Under the desk, by my setup. A tranquilizer gun."

Liam followed her look. Beneath a mess of cables and papers, he could barely make out a small carrying case. "Show me."

She pointed, her arm shaking slightly. With slow precision, Liam moved toward the desk, pulling aside papers, discs, cables—anything obstructing his path. He lifted the case, unzipped it. Inside lay a sleek black tranquilizer gun, small vials, syringes.

He picked it up, loaded one of the vials into the chamber. His fingers were steady.

When he returned to Vanessa, she was sitting upright on the couch, gripping the fabric of her dress like it was the last frayed rope in a storm. Her knuckles were white.

"Do it now," she hissed, voice rough as she tried to sound calm. "I’m...I’m doing everything I can not to... lose it."

Lose it.

The words echoed inside him. He stared at her for a long moment—her eyes swimming with discomfort, shame, desire,—everything tangled up inside.

He crouched beside her, picked up her hand, carefully, he inserted the tranquilizer’s needle into the delicate soft skin of her inner arm.

The sensation was immediate. Vanessa’s breathing quickened. Her grip on his hand tightened, and she closed her eyes as though she could no longer stand the weight of the world—or the weight of her body.

Her vision blurred. Her eyes flicked upward, locked on his face. Her pupils dilated as the sedative coursed through her bloodstream.

She tried to speak but couldn’t. Instead, her body gave way, and she flinched, lean into him like a marionette losing its strings.

Liam slid her gently into his arms as she went limp. Her body sagged, held by him. He laid her down on the couch and drew the blanket over her, pulling it softly around her.

He paused to study her face. Her lips were parted in soft relief, her breathing slow and even. When his gaze softened, her features seemed almost peaceful—beautiful and vulnerable.

His jaw clenched. He knelt beside her, hand still resting on her shoulder.

"I promise," he said so quietly he almost didn’t believe his own voice could carry it, "I’m going to make them regret what they did."

——

Liam stood up from the couch and placed the mask back on his face. He took one last look at Vanessa’s sleeping form. Her breathing was steady now. But the way she had clung to him, the way her body burned against his, it wasn’t something he could ignore or forget. His hands clenched slightly at his side.

He turned around and walked to the exit. No hesitation. No second thoughts. The door clicked softly behind him as he stepped out into the night air.

The sky was quiet.

His wings burst out from his back, flaring open as they caught the wind. In one strong flap, he launched into the air. His body vanished into the night like a ghost. There was no time for rest. Someone needed to pay

*****

Back at the mansion

The party was still going on. Moans, laughter, drinks spilling. It was loud, chaotic, and disgusting.

Inside one of the side rooms, Aiden sat with his head down, pouring drink after drink into his mouth. He had already emptied three bottles on his own. He didn’t look like he knew where he was anymore.

Tony sat beside him, clearly uncomfortable. He watched his friend go from angry to depressed and now fully wasted.

"You need to stop drinking," Tony said, his voice sharp. "You’re losing it."

Aiden didn’t answer. He just poured another drink and spilled half of it on his own lap. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like a complete mess.

"I’m going to fucking kill him..." Aiden mumbled to no one. "That bastard... white-haired freak... I’ll rip his head off..."

His words slurred and stumbled together like a broken record. Tony sighed. He stood up and grabbed Aiden’s shoulder.

"Come on. Let’s get the fuck out of here."

Aiden resisted. He tried to shove Tony’s hand off, but he barely had any strength left in his body. He tried to stand up but ended up falling against Tony, who caught him before he collapsed.

"Great. Now I’m babysitting a drunk idiot."

He dragged Aiden toward the exit. When they reached the main door, two of the guards stepped in front of them and crossed their arms.

"Where are you two going?" one of the guards asked with a dead stare.

Tony didn’t blink. "He’s drunk. Completely gone. I’m getting him out of here before he pukes on someone."

The guards glanced at Aiden, who was mumbling something about breaking him and burning eyes. His voice was low, slurred, and clearly out of it.

"Yeh... fffckin freak... I’ll beat his teeth in... hic... white-headed bitch... I’ll feed you your own teeth ..."

The guards exchanged a look. One of them chuckled.

"Yeah, he’s drunk alright. Fine. Get him out of here. Just don’t let him puke on the steps."

They moved aside and waved them through. Tony nodded with a tight smile and kept dragging his friend outside.

As they walked out into the night air, the stench of alcohol mixed with sweat was strong around Aiden. Tony was already regretting showing up to this party.

But then he stopped.

Someone was leaning against their car.

It wasn’t a staff member. It wasn’t one of the guests. No, this was someone else entirely.

He was tall, built, and good-looking. A smoke hung loosely between his fingers as he stood there in a clean black suit with no tie, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. His shoes were clean and polished, and his gaze was locked on them the moment they stepped outside.

Tony frowned.

"The fuck do you think you’re doing? Get the hell away from my car," he barked.

The man raised his eyebrows slowly, like he hadn’t heard that in a while.

He didn’t move.

He just took another drag of his smoke and looked them over.

Tony took a step forward. Aiden was still slumped on his shoulder, muttering curses.

"I said get the fuck off my car."

Dickson smiled.

He was in no mood for bullshit. He had been standing there for almost half an hour, watching everyone go in and out, waiting for Liam and Vanessa to show. He had expected them to walk out by now. But nothing. No sign. No message.

His patience was running dry.

And now, this clown was barking at him like a little dog.

"You got a problem, bro?" Dickson asked, his voice calm but with weight behind it.

Tony didn’t back off. "Yeah, I do. You’re leaning on my car like you own the place. Move."

Dickson’s smile dropped.

"I’ve had a long night," he said slowly. "I’m not in the mood to repeat myself."

Tony dropped Aiden against the side of the car and stepped forward fully now.

"You don’t scare me, man. Just back the hell off."

Dickson flicked the rest of his smoke to the side, letting it drop into a puddle on the pavement.

Then he stepped away from the car.

But instead of walking off, he stopped right in front of Tony.

Face to face.

"Try touching me," Dickson said. "Let’s see how far you get before you wake up in a hospital."

Tony’s eyes narrowed. His fists clenched.

Dickson didn’t flinch.

The tension climbed like a pressure bomb ready to go off.

Click Click Click

A familiar sound snapped Tony out of his tense moment with Dickson.

Dickson turned around and raised his eyebrow, "Took you long enough bitch"