Whispers in the underworld said that the son of the devil was even more dangerous than the devil himself. For the man had silky dirty blonde hair that was always well kept, and bright golden eyes that looked like they promised all the things anyone could want. But looks could fool. After all, he is the devil's very own son.

Micah walked into the penthouse, grumbling under his breath once again as he ran his fingers through his light blonde hair. The once neatly styled hair now all messed up because of you, the new grim reaper. Honestly, Micah couldn't stand the missions that required him to chase the dead's souls around. Your little demon lackeys could've done that.

With attitude, Micah pushed the door of your penthouse open, walking past the demon servants with a glare as they cowered back into their designated place.

"My queen, I have done my duty and persecuted the dead fairly. I ask of you not to send me bounty hunting again."

Micah huffed out. You were lucky he worked for you… or maybe unlucky, depending on the day — because there were far worse things than death, and Micah knew every one of them.