Betrayed, I Knocked Demon Lord's Door - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

"So, he's really slumming it in Ekavine City now, huh?" Kathleen Duncan asked, her voice laced with a mix of intrigue and skepticism.
"Yep," came the reply, steady but respectful.
The woman stood before the massive chair, her curves hugged tight by a sleek, form-fitting outfit. She kept her head bowed, the picture of deference.
The chair groaned as it swiveled, revealing a white-haired girl who looked barely fourteen. Kathleen's piercing gaze pinned the woman in place, her youthful face masking a mind that churned like a storm.
She propped her dainty feet up, letting them swing lazily as she toyed with a cup.
"Rumor has it he's crashing at the Demon Lord's crib?" Kathleen's eyebrow shot up, a spark of curiosity flickering in her eyes as she leaned forward slightly.
"You got it. Rolled into town and made a beeline for the Demon Lord's estate," the woman said.
Kathleen let out a soft, almost dreamy sigh, her gaze drifting to the brooding, ash-gray sky outside the window.
"A half-dead hero, dragging himself to the Demon Lord he just smoked?" she murmured. "Since when are those two buddy-buddy? What's the real story here?"
The woman shifted, her voice cautious. "Uh, my lady , about the Human Alliance… they've been poking around—"
Kathleen's head snapped back, her eyes flashing with icy contempt. "Oh, tell those losers to kick rocks!" she spat, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. "They don't get to throw their weight around in Ekavine City. Think I'm clueless about the slimy crap they pull?
"Anyone in my city plays by my rules, or they're done. No one lays a finger on them otherwise. Capeesh?"
Her grip on the cup tightened, her mind seething with disgust for the Alliance's underhanded schemes.
Then, a slow, devilish grin curled her lips, her tongue flicking lightly over them. "And let's be real," she purred, her voice dipping into a sly whisper, "even if Leon's barely standing, you think those chumps they sent could take him out? Please.
"And with my dear—I mean, Caitlyn—playing host? No way she's letting those vultures near her new houseguest.
"Yeah, she's a fallen Demon Lord, but she's still not someone you mess with unless you wanna get roasted."
Her grin widened, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. "That big throwdown between them? Something's off, and I'm itching to dig up the dirt."
The woman gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable. "Got it, my lady." She turned, her boots clicking softly against the floor as she headed for the door.
"Hey, hold up!" Kathleen called, her tone flipping to playful in an instant, though her mind was already plotting. "Heard Germaine's in town too, right?"
"Yup. She's camped out at 38 Royal Street," the woman replied, pausing in the doorway.
"You're free to bounce." Kathleen flicked her hand dismissively, then stretched. She swiveled toward the massive window, the city's neon pulse flickering against the stormy sky.
'Well, well… think I'll swing by and mess with Germaine a bit,' she mused, a sly smirk tugging at her lips. 'Girl's bound to spill something juicy.'
"Morning," Caitlyn tossed out, forcing a casual tone despite her racing pulse.
"Morning," Leon mumbled from the couch, his voice gritty with sleep.
Their eyes locked for a split second. Caitlyn glanced at her flimsy tank top and felt her cheeks burn. Nope. She spun around and darted back to her bedroom to swap it for something less revealing.
She stepped out in a crisp white button-up and jeans that clung to her curves like a second skin. Short, sure, but her figure was fire—those jeans carved out her hips and thighs like a sculptor's dream.
Sexy, yet somehow pure.
No one would guess she was the Demon Lord who'd once made the world tremble.
She headed for the bathroom, but Leon's footsteps trailed her. Her heart gave a quick thud.
Their gazes collided. Caitlyn leaned against the doorframe, brow raised. "You lost, or what?"
Leon blinked, all innocent, his hazel eyes glinting. "Just gotta brush my teeth."
Caitlyn's lips twitched, half-annoyed, half-amused. She stepped aside, flipping her hair. "Damn, someone's perky after a nap. Thought you'd be moping for weeks."
Leon's shoulders sagged, his voice low. "Sulking's useless. Doesn't fix shit."
A shadow crossed his face, and Caitlyn's chest tightened. The world had screwed him over—betrayed him and left him with nothing. Acting fine? Total BS. She knew that look.
But then—
Leon's gaze softened as it landed on her, a faint warmth breaking through. He held out his hand, hesitant.
Caitlyn blinked. "What's that for?"
"Toothbrush…" he muttered.
She huffed, cheeks warming. 'This guy.'
She grabbed a new toothbrush from the cabinet and slapped it into his palm, then squeezed toothpaste onto her own with a blank stare.
"That's not free, FYI,"she said.
Leon shot her a couple of wary glances, his shoulders slumping. 'Great, more debts.' Still, he grabbed the toothpaste tube, squeezed out a blob, and splashed some water on it before brushing.
'Whatever. She's letting me stay, so I guess I owe her,' he thought, the bristles scrubbing away his lingering doubts.
Truth was, she could've ditched him. Left him in that storm and moved on. But she hadn't. She'd patched him up, given him a couch, even tossed him a blanket.
Leon's mind was a mess of dark thoughts. If Caitlyn had kicked him out, where'd he be? Maybe rotting in some alley, or back at the Human Alliance, taking down corrupt suits until they buried him. He didn't know.
But someone had his back now.
He glanced at Caitlyn in the mirror, her pouty scowl oddly… cute.
A soft smile crept up. 'Demon Lord? Nah, she's too soft.'
Caitlyn caught his stare and froze, toothbrush pausing. She rolled her eyes, spat out foam, and jabbed her toothbrush at him. "Quit with the puppy eyes! You're not off the hook.
"Soon as you can fight, you're hustling to pay me back. My couch? My rug? Expensive. Plus rent, food, and this toothbrush!"
Leon's warm vibe faded. His lips flattened. 'Okay, not that soft.'
Over breakfast, Caitlyn slid the running tab of expenses under Leon's nose with a sly grin, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Leon's jaw clenched, a mix of irritation and embarrassment swirling in his gut. "Soon as I'm back on my feet, I'm hitting the grind to pay you back, alright?"
Caitlyn leaned back, twirling her hair with a lazy smirk. "No rush, tough guy," she drawled, her tone teasing.
'Yeah, right,' Leon thought, swallowing a scoff. 'She's not in a hurry, so why should I be? Unless she's expecting me to pay her back with cuddles... nah, no way.' His face warmed at the ridiculous thought.
Caitlyn flopped onto the couch, snagged the remote, and flipped to the news. The anchor was yammering about the Rift of the Outlanders.
"The Level 3 rift disaster's under control. Rain's gonna ease up this afternoon. Stay chill, folks."
Leon sank beside her, his eyes narrowing at the screen, a familiar unease knotting his stomach. "Ever since we hung it up, those Outlanders have been running the show."
Caitlyn crossed her arms, letting out a sharp "Pfft," her lips twisting into a sulky frown.
Leon didn't need a crystal ball to know she was still pissed about their last fight.
She was stewing over that beatdown. She'd ditched the Demon Lord title long ago, but getting her ass handed to her? That stung her pride.
And that fight was a mess—him charging in, all business, no fire. Nothing like their old, pulse-pounding throwdowns.
Back in the day, She wasn't the Demon Lord when they first clashed, and he was no S-rank hero. Those battles were brutal—blood, sweat, and pure chaos.
But later? Things got wild. Leon turned into a hero who didn't play by the rules, and Caitlyn became a Demon Lord who didn't act the part.
Their final showdown? A hot mess—half-assed, chaotic, and… yeah, kinda spicy in the heat of it.
"You been crashing here since then?" he asked, shaking off the memory.
Caitlyn shrugged, propping her feet on the coffee table. "Yup. Going back's a headache I can't be bothered with."
She switched to her guilty pleasure—a cheesy idol drama—and sank into the cushions.
Leon let it drop, half-watching the sappy show, his brow furrowing as the dialogue grated on him. His mind shifted gears to the real problem: how to pay her back.
'The Outlanders...' He mulled it over.
Word was, Ekavine had a beast-hunting crew, the Guild of Hunters, in some neutral city. 'Bet they wouldn't turn me away,' he thought, a spark of hope