The Library

Sebastian

M y phone vibrates on the counter, pulling me from the shadows of my thoughts.

Lilith: We need to talk. Seriously this time.

I smirk, tossing my phone back onto the counter. Of course, we do, Lilith. The last time we “talked,” she was on her knees, my cock buried deep in her throat, and laying on my bed while I fucked her virgin pussy, submitting to me like the good girl I knew she would be. But this time? This time it’s different. I can sense it in the tone of her message. She’s seeking more, grappling with truths she’s not yet ready to face.

She’s starting to piece it together, isn’t she? My life, the things I’ve done—the bodies I’ve buried, both figuratively and literally. She wants to understand the darkness that surrounds me, the blood that stains my hands. But what she doesn’t realize yet is that I am the darkness she’s drawn to. I am the devil she’s more than willing to let consume her.

A thrill courses through me at the thought of her curiosity, her need to dig deeper. She’s dancing on the edge of a cliff, and I’m the one coaxing her to jump. She thinks she wants answers, but she has no idea what she’s asking for. I’ll give her just enough to pull her in further, to make sure there’s no escape. She’s already too far gone to turn back now.

And then there’s the part of her that’s still so naive, still convinced there’s more to this than control, power, lust. She wants to see some semblance of humanity in me, to find something to cling to. How adorable. She doesn’t know yet that the only thing she’ll find is a man who will take everything from her, leaving her utterly broken and still begging for more.

Yes, Lilith, I think to myself, we do need to talk. But she won’t like what she hears. Or maybe she will, because once she knows the truth, she’ll never be able to run from it. She’ll crave the darkness like she craves me. She’ll realize there’s no turning back.

The irony is, she’s already mine. She admitted it when she whispered my name like a fucking prayer while fucking herself as soon as she got home. I knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with just being fucked half way gently, I knew exactly what I was doing when I let her to go home. She can try to fight it all she wants, but every time she caves to that desire, she becomes more entangled in my world—my power. She’s already surrendered.

Now, she wants answers.

Answers I’m not sure she’s ready for.

I stare at the phone, contemplating how I want to handle her. Lilith thinks she’s in control, thinks she can confront me on her terms. But I know better. She wants to know about my family. About the Society. About the trail of bodies I’ve left behind, each one more justified than the last. She wants to know the man she’s letting inside her, inside her life and her beautiful pussy, the man she’s becoming addicted to. But what she doesn’t understand yet is that it’s too late for answers.

She’s already too far gone.

I let the tension simmer, deciding not to reply just yet. Let her stew, let her wonder. The push and pull only make her want me more. But before I can put the phone down, it buzzes again. I glance at the screen, expecting another message from Lilith, but it’s not her.

It’s a text from one of my father’s associates.

UNKNOWN: We need you for a job. Tonight.

Fuck. The timing couldn’t be worse, but the Society doesn’t care about timing. When they call, you answer. My father’s made that clear since I was old enough to understand what our family does. And when they demand something, there’s no room for hesitation. You show up. You deliver. Or you die.

I shove the phone into my pocket, standing up from the bar stool. There’s no time to indulge Lilith’s questions right now. She’ll have to wait. Duty calls.

This job is delicate—clean, surgical. It requires precision, the kind of precision only someone like me can deliver. Someone crossed a line, betrayed the wrong people. That’s how it always is. Some poor bastard gets a taste of power, thinks he’s untouchable, invincible, until the Society reminds him otherwise. The moment they step out of line, they’re nothing but a loose thread, one that needs to be snipped before it unravels everything. And that’s where I come in—swift, merciless, the last thing they’ll ever see. It’s not personal. It’s never personal. But it’s always final.

I grab my jacket, the familiar weight of the blade in my inner pocket settling against me like a second skin. The same blade I’ve used for years, the one that’s ended lives for reasons that hardly matter anymore. But tonight, it’s not just the blade. I reach for my gun, sliding it into the holster beneath my jacket. The cold steel feels like an extension of me, ready for whatever the night has in store. Lilith’s been wondering what I do when I’m not with her, and tonight… Tonight she found out what kind of man I really am.

I ride through the city on my black Ducati Diavel, sleek and powerful, its engine purring beneath me like a beast waiting to be unleashed. The bike is more than just a machine; it’s an extension of me, dark and dangerous, built for speed and control. Every twist of the throttle feels like a reminder of the power I wield, both on the road and in life.

The Society isn’t just a network of powerful men; it’s a machine, a force that operates beneath the surface of everything. It controls politics, wealth, power—hell, it controls the very foundation of the world as most people know it. And I’m one of its sharpest gears, turning in the shadows, pulling strings no one even knows exist.

Most of my work revolves around control—manipulating assets, acquiring leverage, removing obstacles. The Society’s influence is vast, insidious, woven into the fabric of everything from corporate empires to government regimes. But sometimes, those obstacles aren’t just business deals or loose ends. Sometimes, they’re human. And when that happens, the only solution is blood. Cold, calculated, and necessary.

The Society doesn’t tolerate weakness, and it doesn’t leave loose threads. We’re the guardians of an order that no one sees, and I’m the one who ensures it remains unbroken.

The target tonight? An old associate of my father’s. He made the mistake of trying to broker deals behind our backs, and the Society doesn’t forgive betrayal. When I get there, he’ll beg for his life, and I’ll silence him before the words even leave his mouth.

My father groomed me for this—killing without hesitation, without guilt. It’s in my blood. And I’ve accepted it. But Lilith… She doesn’t know the half of it. She’s seen glimpses, but she’s far from understanding the scope of what I’m capable of. And yet, I see that spark in her, the one that wants to embrace the darkness in me. She’s more like me than she realizes, and it’s that hunger that draws her to me. She wants the power, the control. She wants me to drag her into hell.

* * *

I pull up to the warehouse, the same place that’s seen more bloodshed than anyone could ever comprehend. But tonight, as I step off my motorcycle, I spot Ty leaning against the entrance, his usual cocky smirk plastered across his face. He’s early for once. I walk toward him, the familiar weight of my blade and gun settling in my pockets, the cool night air brushing against my skin.

“Well, well, well,” Ty drawls, pushing off the wall and swaggering toward me. “What’s with you tonight? You’re in a good mood for once. You fuck someone or what?”

I glance at him, giving nothing away, just a slight smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.

Ty’s eyes widen, and he throws his head back, laughing. “Ohhh shit, it’s that girl from the Halloween party, isn’t it? Lilith or whatever her name is?” He slaps me on the shoulder, shaking his head, still grinning like an idiot. “Man, I hope the poor girl’s okay. I know how you are in bed. Fuck, you probably wrecked her, didn’t you?”

I just smirk again, still not giving him the satisfaction of a response, but I know he’s not wrong. Ty’s seen enough to know the truth, even if I don’t say it out loud.

He leans in, his grin growing wider. “Well, shit, I hope you left something of her. You’ve got that look in your eye. Ya know, the one that says you probably made her cry and loved every fucking second of it.”

I shake my head, walking past him toward the warehouse. “Focus, Ty,” I mutter, but there’s no heat in my voice. It’s just how he is. He jokes around, fucks off most of the time.

Ty follows, still grinning. “Man, if this is the mood you’re in after a good fuck, I might just keep you supplied with women for the rest of your damn life. Shit, maybe I should check on her, make sure she’s still breathing after you’re done with her.”

I give him a sideways glance, the smirk still playing on my lips. “You wouldn’t survive her.”

He lets out a bark of laughter, “Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’ve got a way of breaking people, brother. And I like to partially leave ‘em in one piece.”

Ty’s never serious unless he has to be, but that’s part of why I love him. Even in killing, he’s got that same fucked-up sense of humor. But no matter how much he jokes, he always gets the job done. He’s the only one I’d want by my side in this life, especially tonight. Hell, in some ways, Ty’s even more fucked up than I am. He loves to draw out the torture, to really make the bastards feel it. There’s this sick satisfaction in him, a twisted joy as he smiles and talks shit while he’s ripping someone apart, making their suffering even worse with his words, like he’s getting off on their pain.

I’ve watched him work before, dragging it out, making sure every second feels like a lifetime for the poor fucker tied up in front of him. Sometimes, I think he enjoys the build-up more than the actual kill itself, loves watching them break piece by piece, terror seeping into their bones while he smiles, laughs, and mocks them.

It’s dark, darker than most people can handle, but Ty? He thrives in it. It’s what makes him perfect for this life.

We step inside, and all humor fades from Ty’s face as he eyes the poor bastard tied up in the middle of the room. He cracks his knuckles, his eyes lighting up with that glint of sadistic glee. “Looks like we’ve got work to do,” he says, voice low, almost a growl.

“Yeah,” I mutter, pulling out my blade. “Let’s get to it.”

But even as I step forward to handle business, my mind flickers back to Lilith. Ty’s right, of course. I wrecked her, and I’ll do it again.

The thought of her, the way her body bends to my will, makes me pause. I pull out my cell phone, unable to stop myself from sending her a quick text before we deal with tonight’s business.

Two days. Be ready.

I hit send, pocketing the phone as I turn back to Ty. I can already picture her staring at the screen, that mix of excitement and dread flooding her system. It’s the same feeling I get when I think about her—an addictive pull that’s impossible to shake. But right now, there’s work to do, and as much as I want her, this bastard has to be taken care of first.

I gave her two days for a reason. I know how long this is going to take—how Ty likes to stretch it out, play with his food before finally finishing them off. It’s always the same. He enjoys the slow burn of it, loves dragging out the suffering until the poor fuck is begging for death. I know I’ll be here for a while, stuck in this blood-soaked room with Ty’s fucked-up grin, so two days was a safe bet.

“Better get comfortable,” I mutter, glancing over at the guy strapped to the chair, his eyes wide with fear. “This is gonna take some time.”

Ty flashes me a grin, cracking his knuckles. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”

One more job. Then I’ll have her all to myself.

It’s simple. Direct. She’ll understand. I’ve been away, and now it’s time to finish what we started.

As I collapse into bed, I think about her—about the way her body trembles under my touch, the way she moans my name like I’m the only god she’ll ever worship. It’s intoxicating, the power I have over her. And soon, she’ll understand just how deep that power runs.

The Society, the blood, the bodies—it’s all part of who I am. And now, it’s part of her too.

It took a day and a half of Ty torturing that poor bastard before I finally pulled the trigger, putting a fucking bullet through his head. Putting him out of his misery. And if I’m honest, putting myself out of it too. Ty, as usual, was dragging it out, loving every second of it. The sick fuck could go on forever with that shit, smiling while he ripped the guy apart, making it as drawn-out as possible.

As I holster my gun, Ty wipes the blood off his hands, grinning like a kid in a candy store. “What the fuck, man? We were just starting to have some fun,” he says, looking at me like I’ve ruined his day.

I shake my head, smirking. “You’re a sick fuck,” I tell him, already half thinking about getting back to Lilith.

Ty just laughs, slapping me on the back. “Yeah, well, you love me for it.”

He’s not wrong. But right now, my mind’s already with her, back in my bed. We ride out of the warehouse, the roar of our bikes tearing through the night as we head our separate ways, my thoughts consumed by her.

Lilith. Soon, she’ll know everything. And when she does, she won’t be able to escape.