Devil's Prisoner of Love by Prefer

Nick's kiss landed gently on Irene's forehead, her scent carrying the familiar fragrance of his favorite perfume.

"Irene, you don't dislike me, do you? Otherwise, why would you remember my preferences?"

"I'm sorry." Nick knew she was still brooding over the past. People often said that mistakes led to missed opportunities, but he wasn't willing to miss Irene.

"Mr. Johnson, don't leave me, okay?" Irene's words seemed to drift into another scenario entirely.

Nick could only apologize over and over. "I won't leave you, Christina." Since she had placed herself into this role, he decided he might as well play along as Mr. Johnson.

Irene lifted her head from his embrace, her trembling fingers reaching toward his face. Nick caught her hand and gently placed it on his cheek, wondering if she had something important to say.

He waited in silence, watching her closely. Then, with deep emotion, Irene spoke a sentence he would never forget.

"Mr. Gustafson, do you remember the days we used to share?"

Nick: "..."

"Irene, I'm taking you to bathe." He realized he couldn't keep indulging her whims, or she might drag him into another melodramatic scene.

"No, no, Mr. Gustafson, no! I don't want to!" Irene twisted and flailed as if reenacting a scene from the many dramas she'd been watching lately.

Nick had no choice but to transform into a "tyrant." "Be good, Irene. Take a bath, and I'll give you candy."

A kind tyrant, at least. Anyone who saw Nick like this would be utterly shocked-this was the same cold and ruthless man?

To his surprise, his words actually worked. Irene blinked at him with wide eyes. "Really?

candy because I'm a

strawberry it is, my little princess." He kissed the tip of her nose affectionately and carried her to

thoughts were already wandering. Heaven help

gaze turned sultry, her voice commanding and cold. "Call me

that a bit too quick of a role switch?

Now she

be peaceful. Nick resigned himself to serving as her loyal servant for the rest of

Aurora, after drinking, was the complete opposite of Irene.

fingers clutching his shirt as though

was as though he were holding a delicate little bunny

bed. The alcohol worked its magic, and he slept soundly through the night

to wake. Having lived alone for years, he was used to attending social events and, no matter how drunk he got, still waking up

with the routine. With an average tolerance for alcohol, he'd often find himself repeatedly vomiting in the bathroom before returning to drink more. Over time, he built

previous night, Asher decided to tidy up. With nothing else to do, he cleaned the house and

Robert stumbled into the kitchen, yawning, he was surprised

eyes widened. "Wait, you're cooking breakfast?

question, merely offering a

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to explain himself. When Asher cared for someone, he didn't need others to know about it. In New York, he had grown accustomed to taking care

the spot. You're like a treasure-successful, hardworking, and domestic!" Asher shot him a

You're all so mean to me," Robert muttered, storming out in

never been able to sleep well in unfamiliar places. Robert spotted the dark circles under his eyes and

night? Didn't sleep

in full drama mode, acting out until the early hours of the morning. She only fell asleep

managed two or three hours of sleep before dragging himself out of bed. "Was it Irene..." Robert teased with a knowing grin. His expression clearly hinted at unspeakable

would Nick look this frustrated and fatigued? Obviously, it was a case of unfulfilled desires and lack of

"Get lost," Nick snapped.