Devil May Love

1

My father was a crime lord.

When he was alive, his underlings would bow deeply in respect to me.

After he was shot dead, I became a trophy for our rivals.

At the nightclub, I needed to entertain dozens of guests a day.

But that wasn't the hardest part.

The hardest part was being injected with drugs.

If nothing unexpected happened, this would be my life.

I was only 23.

2

Jayce Jonston came to the "Silver Lamp" nightclub.

Maybe he was looking for someone.

He was always so dignified; this wasn't a place he'd usually visit.

When he entered the private room, I was being pinned down on the sofa by several men, my skirt pushed up to my waist.

Without a word, Jayce grabbed a bottle and smashed it over their heads.

Desperately, I crawled over to pick up a drug-laced cigarette butt, trembling as I brought it to my lips.

Once I sobered up, my whole body felt like it was being fried in oil.

Perhaps I still had a shred of dignity.

I didn't want him to see me like this.

3

Jayce hit them hard.

The onlookers called the police.

The nightclub claimed it was my personal act of prostitution.

The police detained me for a few days, then sent me to a rehab center.

I graduated from the best local university and once had a bit of ambition.

Now, mingling with thugs and prostitutes, the guards looked at me with disdain.

Jayce must be quite disappointed in me.

He was once my teacher, a professor in the English Department at my university.

In the first class, he taught us the meaning of reading.

To seek truth and wisdom, to serve humanity, and to preserve the teachings of the past.

I remembered it all.

But I couldn't hold onto it anymore.

4

I was Jayce's fiancée.

Three days, just three days away from our wedding.

But he was an informant for the police.

Thanks to him, my father was gunned down right at my birthday party. There was a gaping hole, as big as a bowl, in the back of his head. Blood spurted out and splattered all over my white princess dress, a dress that was supposed to stand for purity and innocence.

Because of him, I was humiliated in front of my father's coffin, the child I carried, became a pool of blood between my legs.

Because of him, I was injected, controlled, and thrown into the nightclub. Even now, the pain in my lower body was excruciating.

I was in great trauma.

But he stood in the sunlight.

5

When I got out of rehab, Jayce came to pick me up, bringing a down jacket.

He draped it over my shoulders.

He said he would marry me to take care of me for a lifetime.

As long as I didn't relapse, as long as I lived a good life.

He held me tightly in his arms, and I just let him hold me, like a dead tree.

I had always been a good person.

I never got involved in my father's business, worked diligently, and never spent his money.

If I were guilty, the law wouldn't have let me go.

They were not fools.

But Jayce, he never really loved me.

Yet he was once my sun, and for those years, I grew madly towards him.

I gave him the most sincere love and devotion of my life.

But something too pure, a single stain becomes glaring.

I took off the down jacket.

Jayce lowered his eyes, took out fifty thousand dollars check from his bag, and handed it to me.

I tore it up.

I was not unreasonable; I understood good and evil, right and wrong.

I knew I had no grounds to blame him.

But for us, this was the end.

6

The time I saw Jayce again, it was eight years later.

He was covered in blood, tied up, and thrown in front of me.

I was with Eddie Fleck, the biggest crime lord in Northern Myanmar.

Unlike before.

This time, I was dead - set on getting involved in the business. I wasn't satisfied with merely being Eddie's woman. I wanted them to recognize me as a capable businesswoman in my own right, not just someone's appendage.

I wanted them to respect and fear me.

I didn't want to be a woman hiding behind a man, nor did I want to be anyone's trophy again.

The underlings said Jayce was a police informant.

I had no doubt.

I just didn't understand why a university professor would involve himself in such a mess.

Eddie squinted at me, "Seems like he still has feelings for you, dear."

I laughed.

I walked over and sat on Eddie's lap.

I took the cigarette from Eddie's mouth, took a puff, and licked my lips.

Then I pulled the gun from his waist and fired at Jayce's head.

The opposite wall was pierced.

Eddie pushed my hand away, the gun barrel moved up a few centimeters.

Eddie kissed my mouth, his hand in my hair, "Luna, why would I let you get blood on your hands?"

Eddie ordered someone to inject him.

He convulsed, struggled.

Eddie stepped on his hand.

Eddie looked down, "Jayce Jonston, I know you. You are an university professor, a decent man. That's why Luna watched you for so many years. You're noble, different from us. You're even a hero in some way. So let's see, what is the ending of the hero."

Eddie ordered people to throw him out.

He turned back to see me sitting there expressionless, smirking, "What? Worried about him?"

I lowered my head and smiled faintly, putting on a full display of charm, "What do you think, my love?"

7

Whenever I had time, I drove to follow Jayce.

To see the other side of his well-dressed appearance.

In the desolate dusk, Jayce clutched a worn briefcase, like a nervous novice, glancing around nervously.

He planned to open it when he got home. He'd managed to get it from a vendor with great difficulty. He was in such a state, with tears and snot streaming down, and only after a struggle could he blurt out, "You got the things?"

He shivered as he found a corner to sit down, unwrapping the foil.

He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, his face showing an unnatural stupor.

What he got was trash that had changed hands countless times.

I wanted to see how many times his salary could afford his habit.

After sobering up, Jayce regretted it, deeply regretted it.

He tied himself to the bed leg, trying to quit several times, eventually breaking the bed.

What if he managed to quit?

I would still make him relapse.

I stood in his cramped room, moonlight casting on my face, half in light, half in shadow.

The cigarette twirling between my fingers.

"Want it?"

I tilted my head and smiled.

He looked at me, sitting on the sofa, panting heavily, his eyes filled with greed and longing.

"Do you want the cigarette, or do you want me?"

"I want you." He panted, crawling over desperately, "I love you, Luna."

Love me?

A strange laugh escaped my throat, eerie and ghostly.

Three days, just three days away from our wedding.

Three days, and we would have been the closest people in the world.

I still remember kneeling on the ground that day, in a pool of blood, looking up at him.

He didn't dare look at me.

He stood behind the fully armed police, just standing there.

Now I held his face, watching him crawl over desperately, begging me, kissing my neck, saying he loved me.

See?

Love came so easily.

8

When I got home, Eddie wasn't there.

The maid said he went to the nightclub.

So I went to find him.

When I entered, Eddie was playing cards, a woman with an innocent face sitting on his lap.

Some scenes suddenly overlapped in my mind.

I couldn't stand the atmosphere, initially wanting to say something to him, but I couldn't help turning around and leaving.

Eddie chased after me.

I drove fast.

Like a mouse cornered by a cat, scurrying everywhere.

Eddie stopped me.

Eddie knocked on my car window, tossed me a cigarette, and casually lit one himself.

"Luna, you're getting too close to Jonston."

I looked at him, tears falling.

Eddie panicked, pulling me out, "Don't be like this, Luna. Don't you know me? What could I possibly have with a woman?"

My eyes glanced westward.

Eddie, he still didn't understand.

9

Eddie was my father's adopted son.

But I was the one who brought him back.

I was five years old at that time. I saw him, a dark - skinned and skinny figure, rummaging through a trash can in search of food. I offered him a piece of bread and then took him home.

Back then, I was still a good person, so kind that I'd shed tears for suffering kittens and puppies.

Let alone Eddie, an orphan.

He was loyal, somewhat slow, and his sharpness only showed when protecting me and my father.

I remembered the year I was kidnapped by my father's enemies, Eddie, wielding a sword, walked twenty miles overnight, fearlessly chasing after them, and managed to rescue me.

He was only 13 then.

When my father died, Eddie was in Thailand on business, unable to return in time.