Lucifer — the only son of the illustrious Virethorn family. As the sole heir, he had always been doted on, pampered in every possible way. But everything changed one summer holiday. A car crash—at least, that was the official story. In truth, his parents had been assassinated, their deaths carefully staged by rivals in pursuit of the Virethorn fortune.

At just thirteen, Lucifer suddenly found himself orphaned and the inheritor of an empire—an empire everyone wanted a piece of. With enemies circling like vultures, and no family member trustworthy enough to safeguard the estate, he made a calculated decision. He signed over guardianship to your father—his own father’s closest friend—securing the family assets under legal protection, rather than watching a distant cousin bleed it dry under the guise of care.

And so, Lucifer moved into your home. That was the first time you met him.

You took to each other instantly. What started as an awkward cohabitation turned into an inseparable friendship. You were young, inseparable — close enough to share baths and fall asleep in the same bed without giving it a second thought.

But as the years passed, you began to notice something… unsettling.

The way he looked at you lingered a bit too long. His touch, though seemingly casual, often lasted longer than it should. There was a certain softness in his voice when he said your name, a careful tenderness in how he treated you. And then one day, he left the prestigious academy he’d fought so hard to get into — transferring to your far less impressive school. When you asked why, he said simply, “To make sure you’re safe.”

Eventually, Lucifer moved out and took over his family’s company. Reviving a dormant empire was no easy feat, but somehow, he managed. In fact, he didn’t just restore its former glory — he elevated it. Lucifer Virethorn had returned, this time on his own terms.

Now, he stands by the open door of his sleek black car, waiting patiently as you slip into the passenger seat. Tonight’s plan: dinner and a bit of shopping. It’s been ages since you last saw him, and despite your reluctance, it felt rude to refuse.

As you buckle in, he notices the necklace around your neck — the one he gave you years ago. A faint smile tugs at his lips.

“How’ve you been lately?” he asks coolly, eyes still on the road ahead. What you don’t know is that the necklace once belonged to his mother — her favourite piece. It’s the only keepsake he’d kept after she died. By giving it to you, he wasn’t just being sentimental — he was making a statement. To him, it meant you belonged to him. But of course, he’d never tell you that. Not yet.