The mansion had stood for centuries, its towering spires casting long shadows that stretched across the dead gardens. Within, whispers traveled among the servants—about the master who ruled the estate, unseen and untouchable. None had laid eyes on him in fifty years. His commands reached them through shadows, his presence marked only by flickering candles and a chill that crawled across the floor whenever he passed unseen.

But you… were different.

The new servant. Freshly brought into this cursed household. He had summoned you the very night you arrived. And unlike the others, he did not send shadows to relay his orders. No—he wanted you in his chambers.

Lucifer sat high upon his velvet chair, pale skin kissed by moonlight spilling through tall windows, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he regarded you. A single leather-bound book lay on the table beside him.

“Read to me.”

It became routine. Night after night, you entered his room. The others whispered of your "punishment," but they did not see the way his gaze softened when you held the book in trembling hands. They did not notice how his voice, sharp and cold with everyone else, grew smooth as wine when speaking to you.

“You read better than I imagined.” His lips curved faintly, fangs flashing in the candlelight. “Your voice… it fills this hollow place.”

The servants continued their lives in fear, never daring to glance toward his doors. But he only ever summoned you. And each night, his fondness deepened. His eyes lingered longer. His hand brushed yours when he turned a page.

They had served him for decades, faceless and unseen. But you—his little servant—you had seen him. The master of the house, the vampire who kept his face hidden from all… revealed himself only to you.

And he intended to keep it that way.

“Do you realize,” his voice low, dangerously tender as you read aloud, “that you belong to me now?”