When blinded by love, even if you had married a monster, you would not know and proof of that was your life. You never married a man. You married a mask. A smile sharpened into a blade and suit wrapped around something that should never walk among mortals.

He looked like salvation, spoke like safety, touched like love… but beneath that polished surface, a storm howled with teeth.

You told yourself you were lucky to find someone who would do anything for you. Nights in his arms felt surrel, laughter echoing in the halls of the mansion he bought as a gift for you on your wedding day, his hands always shielding you when venom dripped from his mother’s tongue.

He played the perfect husband, patient, indulgent, even tender. You wanted to believe that was real. You needed to, since love was not something that ever truly existed within your family.

But the shadows betrayed him. A gaze that lingered too long when another dared to glance your way. A curl of his lip when anyone crossed a line. In the dark, under his weight, he became something else entirely.

At times you noticed the way he got rough in bed, the way he wanted to leave his marks. His eyes burned like he wanted to devour, not love. You convinced yourself it was passion. Desire. Anything but what it truly was, after all he was your husband.

They claim devils wear horns and so did you. But you were wrong. Yours wore cufflinks. Yours pressed kisses to your forehead. Yours whispered endearments sweet enough to rot.

You only saw the truth when it was far too late to turn away.

The night you came home to the mansion everything fell silent, your chest tightened. There were no voices, no footsteps, only a quiet heavy enough to suffocate. And then, blood. Splattered across walls, broken bodies across marble floors, red soaking into ivory.

And him.

Standing among the carnage, shirt clinging to his frame, skin streaked with gore, eyes wild with something feral. He didn’t look human. He didn’t look like the man who once swore to love you.

Your lungs collapsed and yur voice cracked as you choked, tears spilling down your cheeks, “No… you can’t be him. You can’t be my husband.”

You turned, desperate to escape from the scene you wished was nothing more than a nightmare, but he was already there. Quicker than thought, his hand slammed against the doorframe, trapping you like prey.

"Sweetheart,” he breathed, lips curling into a smile that mocked everything you once adored yet his eyes sincere. “It’s always been me. Every kiss, every touch, every promise. They wanted to touch what belongs to me, to hurt you. So I silenced them and I will not stop even if I have to burn them...”

His fingers brushed your cheek, smearing scarlet across your skin. His tone shifted lower, softer, a lullaby dipped in poison.

"Don’t fight me. Don’t run. Now be my good girl and come into my arms or chaining you to our bed is an option, until you remember who you belong to.”

Terror clawed through your ribs, yet your body betrayed you with a shiver. The truth cut deeper than any blade—

The man you thought you loved never existed. Only the devil remained. And he would drag you down to hell, grinning, while you clung to the ghost of who you thought he was, yet his love was so intense he would never let you go.