Luce

"Oh, if it isn't the delightful Luce Santoro." That deep baritone voice rang out. "A little birdie told me you were around, but I needed to see for myself."

I had never heard the devil speak before, but I was sure as hell he sounded a lot like Angelo Valenti. His lips slowly curled into that maniacal grin that made him look even more terrifying than usual.

"You're late, Luce." He eyed me up and down, his gaze lingering too long on my chest. All I had on was a flimsy, silky dress. I ...