He Chose Her, The Desert Chose Me - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Thirty minutes later, under the cover of darkness, a sleek black van rolled to a stop outside the hospital. Two silent figures in black emerged, ushering me out with practiced efficiency—making sure no one saw a thing.
The van carried me to the city's edge, where an unassuming industrial complex—disguised as a chemical plant—hid something far more sinister beneath its surface. A secret facility, unlike anything I'd ever seen.
And there, waiting in the shadows, was him.
The man who had saved my life in Dungeness.
The man who called himself the Devil.
He stepped forward like a nightmare given form—tall, broad, radiating authority. His face was striking, aristocratic even, but ruined by a vicious scar that slashed from his left eyebrow to his temple, twisting his handsome features into something predatory.
I remembered the first time I'd seen him.
In the desert.
I'd been seconds from death.
A pack of wolves had closed in, their leader lunging for my throat. I'd shut my eyes, bracing for the end—when a single gunshot cracked through the night.
The alpha collapsed at my feet, blood darkening the sand.
Then, like ghosts, men in black tactical gear descended from an SUV, moving with lethal precision. They finished off the rest before hauling me up.
And then he appeared—the Devil.
Pulling off his mask, he revealed that scarred, commanding face—something out of another world.
"I'm sorry," he'd said, voice colder than the desert wind. "Coyotes and wolves… you can't leave even one alive. They'll always come back for revenge."
I'd stammered my thanks, still shaking. When I asked his name, he smirked.
"Call me Devil. It's what I am."
But he hadn't saved me out of kindness. He'd known exactly who I was.
"You've been wronged," he'd said, studying me like a puzzle he intended to solve. "And I've been wronged too. We both want revenge on the same family. Call me if you survive. Maybe we can help each other."
He left me with a single bucket of water and a few packs of compressed biscuits—my test.
"If you make it out of Dungeness alive," he'd said, "then you're strong enough to take revenge."
And now, here we were.
"You've decided?" he asked, voice flat.
I met his icy stare. "Yes. I want revenge on Arthur and Bella. I'll fulfill our deal."
The Devil's lips curled—just slightly—though his eyes stayed frozen.
"Good," he said. "Everything is ready. Focus on your recovery first. When the time comes, I'll tell you what to do."
With a few sharp orders to the medical staff and bodyguards, he turned to leave—just like in the desert. No wasted words, no hesitation. A shadow slipping back into the dark.
By morning, Birmingham's elite were in chaos.
The news spread like wildfire: The Lawson Family's golden daughter and the Findley Family's future bride had vanished overnight from the hospital. Whispers of scandal, betrayal, and conspiracy swirled through every corner of high society.
But no one—not Arthur, not Bella—had any idea.
I wasn't their victim anymore.
I was the storm gathering on the horizon.
And when I returned, I'd burn their world to the ground.