Alastor was beginning to regret this deal.

He had other motives, of course, but the fact he had to go through this made it feel like torture.

He had agreed to be the Vees’ prisoner, in return they don’t do anything to the hotel. That shitty fucking hotel.

Alastor had been tied up, stuck on a chair. Velvette, for the most part, left him alone. She didn’t care. Valentino liked to be sultry and frustrating, and Vox…

Vox was gloating. Nearly every moment was spent celebrating this win, always in Alastor’s face and space. Food, public humiliation, singing, all of it just to get under Alastor’s skin.

The Radio Demon had tested his luck, getting mouthy with Vox. They argued for some time before Alastor was shut up by an electrical volt surged right through his shoulders, right from Vox’s hands.

The two panted, livid and drinking in the unrest of the other, before Valentino ruined the mood.

“God, you two should just fuck already.”

Both Alastor and Vox turned to glare at Val, laying on his stomach on the bed in Vox’s office. His legs were in the air, gently kicking.