“We’ve tracked them down. Both cars belong to the Onyx and Gold twins, Mr. Lucifer,” the voice from the radio crackled through the sound of crashing waves. “They’ve taken Miss Caylass to the dead harbor on the city’s west side. Our informant says there’s a yacht waiting there.”Lucifer stood on the ship’s deck, the sea wind tossing his black hair. Moonlight glimmered off the raven mask hanging from his wrist—cold, as if it were staring back into the dark sea.

“I already know,” he said flatly. “Two hours ago. Give me something I don’t know.”

Silence fell, and five minutes later the voice returned, cautious.

“Then perhaps you already know this, too? From the last recording at Miss Caylass’s house… The Mafia Twins plan to use the boss’s daughter to push their products into the Asian market. They intend to challenge the diamond mafia’s dominance—our boss is the only one strong enough to rival them.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, eyes fixed on the horizon.

“Asia, huh? What kind of business are they running there?”

“Air rifles. For school kids.”

Lucifer let out a low, humorless chuckle. “If selling illegal weapons were that easy in the diamond mafia’s territory, the boss would’ve done it long ago.”

“Seems he actually plans to this time—together with the Twins,” the agent replied quietly.

Lucifer’s expression hardened as he stared into the sea.

“Why?”

“Because the diamond mafia received news that Miss Caylass is marrying Gold. The invitation appeared on their doorstep out of nowhere. They took it as an act of betrayal… and possibly a declaration of war.”

Lucifer nearly crushed the wheel in his hand. “What!? Did you send a clarification?”

“They think it’s a trap.”

“Oh.”

Lucifer looked at the waves crashing violently against the hull, while his mind ran through a thousand ways to kill those damned twins.

---

“Get this damn white dress off me!”

Caylass snarled, struggling against the ropes binding her wrists. The gown—soft, luxurious, and revolting—fluttered with every movement she made.

Gold lounged casually in the chair across from her, shirt half unbuttoned. His golden eyes narrowed, studying her like a lion watching a small bird peck at its cage.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, his voice almost melodic. “If you keep moving like that, I might take it the wrong way.”

“Then do. You’ll regret it,” Caylass shot back coldly. “I’m not as cute as you think.”

“Regret it how?” Gold rose slowly, his every step syncing with Caylass’s heartbeat—the one she pretended wasn’t racing.

“Caylass,” he murmured, leaning close until only an inch of air separated their faces. “You talk like someone who still has power.”

Caylass met his gaze, eyes dark and defiant.

“So do you,” she snapped. “As if you’ll live long enough to regret doing this to me.”

For a moment, Gold said nothing. Then a faint smile tugged at his lips—not mockery, not amusement. Just... interest.

He leaned in until his breath brushed her cheek. His cold fingers nearly touched her chin—almost—before Caylass jerked back, fear flickering in her pupils.

“Relax,” Gold whispered. “I won’t hurt you... unless you ask me to.”

Before Caylass could answer, a voice came from behind the cabin door.

“Gold.”

The tone was calm, heavy, laced with quiet threat—unmistakably Onyx.

The door opened. His twin stepped in, wearing a long white coat that contrasted with his neatly tied black hair.

“Enough playing around,” Onyx said without looking at them. He placed a phone on the table, its screen showing fresh satellite images.

“Lucifer’s on his way here.”

Gold straightened, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Right on time, as always.”

“Do you think your father sent him here to negotiate?” Onyx asked Caylass.

Caylass scoffed.

“If my father wanted to negotiate, he wouldn’t send Luce. He doesn’t know how to negotiate.” Then she added flatly, “He’s coming to kill you.”

Silence.

Then, the twins laughed.

Gold lit a cigarette. “Then you’ll learn just how fast someone can regret stepping into our territory.”

Onyx borrowed Gold’s cigarette to light his own. “And when he arrives, we’ll say, ‘Welcome to hell, Lucifer.’”

---

An hour passed. The tiny ember at the end of Onyx’s cigarette barely illuminated his sharp-jawed face turned away from the deck light. Calm—though that calm was only a mask.

All of this—the reckless business plan, the kidnapping of the mafia boss’s daughter, the dangerously high-stakes follow-up schemes—were Gold’s ideas.

Though Onyx was the more cautious of the two, he often let his twin handle strategy. Not because he was dumb or lazy, but because his younger brother was braver—better at pushing boundaries without breaking them. If Onyx had been in charge, they’d probably still be trapped with their wicked stepmother, locked in the mansion’s basement, eating leftovers from their stepsister’s plate while being lectured about gratitude.

That same stepsister’s fate was now a mystery—Onyx couldn’t even remember her full name, much less her social accounts.

A curl of smoke hung in the air between him and Caylass, drawing his eyes briefly toward her.

Her fierce struggle had tilted the chair she was tied to, making her head droop downward, her dark brown hair brushing the deck, her white gown disheveled.

And for a heartbeat—one second too long—their eyes met. Deep blue and pale blue.

Caylass blinked first. “Aren’t you going to help your future sister-in-law?” she asked dryly.

Onyx didn’t answer right away. He stubbed his cigarette against the railing, watching the ashes fall into the dark water below.

“Don’t move too much. The floor’s dirty,” he said calmly.

“Why do you care?” she snapped, blowing a strand of hair off her face.

“The dress,” Onyx replied. “It was our mother’s wedding dress.” A pause. “Our late mother’s,” he corrected, a beat too late. His eyes flicked toward her, sharp and challenging, waiting for a cruel retort.

He half-expected Caylass to say something like, ‘Your mother must be ashamed in hell seeing what you’re doing with her dress.’ But she said nothing—just turned away toward the dark sea, clearly impatient for Lucifer to show up and rescue her from this painfully awkward situation. Strange, really, to trust so much in a man who worked for her father, not her.

“How do you know he’s coming for you?” Onyx murmured.

Caylass shrugged. “Because he always does?”

“You think he does that because he cares?” Onyx knew the answer—money haunted every inch of their world.

“Oh, come on,” Caylass sighed. “Lucifer doesn’t ‘care.’ He obeys. There’s a difference.”

That confidence made Onyx snort a laugh. “Obeys your father, yeah,” he said, lighting his third cigarette of the night.

“Why? Jealous?” Caylass asked, feigning surprise. Then, mock-dramatically, “Oh no, don’t tell me after pretending to be him, you started wishing you had someone like him. Or worse—you wish you were him. Someone reliable.”

Onyx didn’t reply. He was too cool for childish arguments. But he did step closer, pressing one side of her chair so it tilted toward him, and said,

“If he’s someone reliable, then where was he when—” Before he could finish, Caylass lunged forward, trying to headbutt him. Onyx dodged just in time—but the deck was slippery. Her chair’s legs slid, dragging Caylass with it, and the heavy chair fell toward him.

By some cruel stroke of luck, their lips met. Not perfectly—his lower lip against her upper, stiff and misaligned—but somehow the angle fit, too perfectly for comfort.

“Oh, shit. You’d better move,” Onyx swore, his heart pounding as he pulled back and stared at her.

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that like this? My hands are tied behind me, idiot,” Caylass snapped, pride clearly wounded by the incident. As if she had kissed him first. “Jerk. Ugly.”

“What?” Onyx blinked in disbelief. “Who’s ugly? Me?”

Caylass arched a brow. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, hard to forget when you said my brother’s hot.”

This time, Caylass’s cheeks flushed red.

“Forget that. I was teasing Lucifer. I thought you were him.”

And that was when they heard someone clear his throat.

Both turned—and froze.

Lucifer. The real one. The man who could bring hell upon anyone, stood there at the center of the deck, silent and motionless, as if he had always been there. His eyes glinted through the raven mask before he reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and tossed it toward Caylass’s back.

He didn’t need to say a word.

Onyx didn’t have to look to know what it was: a gun.

Before he could react, Caylass fired. The bullet tore through the ropes binding her wrists, splintering the deck below. She was free—and in a heartbeat, the pistol was aimed right at him.

Onyx swiftly grabbed the chair, using it as a shield.

In a split second, the tables had turned.

“So that’s what this is about,” Gold’s voice came from behind him. He had returned silently, standing with eerie calm. Onyx didn’t know if Gold had seen what happened earlier—but he was relieved his twin was there. Because that meant the sides were even.

Onyx and Gold.

Caylass and Lucifer.

And one undeniable fact:

Onyx had never lost when Gold was by his side.