"Very well, I agree." The Queen's voice hardened. "However, if you fail, you and your Cretis family will cease to exist!"
Sahir smiled and gave another gentlemanly bow: "Yes!"
When he went out, Sehir practically ran. He wished he could fly. When he reached the door, he took a few deep breaths before calmly walking out and coming to Isri's side.
“The Queen has agreed, the plan can proceed.” Cecil’s voice was still trembling slightly from the strenuous running he had just done.
Isri narrowed his phoenix eyes slightly, a hint of amusement flashing in his amber pupils. He got off the carriage and picked up Ceshir from the ground.
"What are you doing!" Sesil was startled.
“Young master, I will wait for you. You don’t need to rush out like this.” With that, Isri opened the carriage door and let Ceshir in.
"Where else would you like to go, young master?" Is asked Cecil with a smile.
To outsiders, it was just a simple game between the butler and the young master, but to Cecil, it was a threat and intimidation.
If he dares to suggest where he's going, he'll surely face a barrage of sweet talk and punishment when he gets back that night.
"No, I'm going straight home." Sehir had absolutely no desire to see Isri.
“Yes, young master,” Isri said softly as he closed the car door.
"Madman!" Sehir cursed under his breath as Isri closed the car door.
He was the only surviving head of the Cretis family; his family members had all been slaughtered, leaving only Isri and his infant self.
He loved Isri. Before he was eight years old, Isri's meticulous care for him made him fall into a state of blissful infatuation, and he thought how wonderful it would be if he could live with Isri forever.
But now, Isriel is a madman! He desperately wants to lock himself completely by his side; he's a morbid, insane, and monstrous demon who wants to devour everything!
When they returned to the mansion, it was already dark outside, and the afterglow on the distant horizon was as red as the eyes of a demon.
The West Asian continent is a foggy place, and the sun seems to dislike it, setting in the sky after only a few hours.
Sehir's plan was simple: to use himself as bait.
Isri had already gone to prepare dinner, while Sehir changed into civilian clothes in his room, preparing for tonight's operation.
When Islami pushed the food cart in, she was also dragging a long dress in her hand.
"What are you doing with that long dress?" Cecil couldn't help but ask.
Isri pushed the food cart to the bedside and placed her white dress on the bed: "Young master, didn't you notice that the victims are all women?"
Cecil frowned slightly, his voice turning cold: "You want me to wear women's clothing?"
A glint flashed in Isri's eyes, and a smile played on his lips: "Yes, young master."
“Impossible!” Cecil looked at the dress on the bed. As the only male head of the Cretis family, how could he possibly wear a dress!
Isri's expression turned worried: "Do you want the plan to fail? That madman doesn't like boys."
Sehir gritted his teeth, his fists clenched tightly, and after a minute of stalemate, he finally gave in to Isri.
Isri took the dress in her hands, gently untied the back straps, draped it over her arm, and walked to Cesil's side.
"Young master, let me change it for you."
As he spoke, he reached out to unbutton Cesil's collar, but before he could touch it, Cesil instinctively slapped Isri's hand away: "I can change myself."
Isri's hand froze in mid-air, his smile unwavering: "Young Master would wear this dress?"
Following Isri's gaze, Ceshir carefully examined the dress in his hand. The ribbons on it were exceptionally intricate, layer upon layer, dazzling the eye.
While Sehir was still in a daze, Isri had already unbuttoned quite a few buttons on his collar.
Cecil gritted his teeth, determined to endure it for the sake of tonight's plan. In less than a minute, his snow-white, alabaster skin was exposed to the air, his clean, flawless body curves shimmering silver in the moonlight.
Isri's hands moved slowly, and although he was wearing white gloves, they still occasionally brushed against his skin, causing Sehir to tremble slightly.
Chapter Three
Isri's eyes swept over Cesil's slender, beautiful back. Her fair skin was flawless, as if it had been soaked in milk, and it exuded a faint fragrance.
He desperately wanted to pin the person down and let him violate him right then and there, but reason ultimately prevailed over him.
Sehir is his god, his supreme god, and he cannot do this; he cannot defile his faith.
The long white dress was slowly lifted from her feet, and the boy in the mirror instantly transformed into a well-behaved and lovely girl, except for her short, bright golden hair.
The skin on his back was exposed, which was specially chosen by Isri. He had been looking forward to his young master wearing women's clothing for many years, and now his desire had finally been fulfilled.
Sehir looked at himself in the mirror, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. He, Sehir, the high and mighty Sehir, was now wearing women's clothing.
When Isri noticed Cesil's expression, a surge of heat rose in his own lower abdomen. Without thinking, he tightened the straps around Cesil's neck.
"Ugh... Ugh!" Caught off guard, Sehir cried out in pain, "Isri, what are you doing!"
Isri was provoked by Ceshir's shout; his amber eyes, like those of a lion standing on a plain, were fixed on his prey.
The hand movements did not lessen; on the contrary, they intensified. He pressed Cecil down on the waist, causing Cecil to lose his footing and fall face-first onto the mirror.
Isritain reached out and put his arm around Cesil's slender waist from below: "Young master, don't move, the straps should be tied like this to look good."
Isri's voice, like a demon's growl, lingered in Sesil's ear, and Sesil blushed so much that he couldn't hear anything else.
"hurry up!"
"I understand, young master. I'll be quick."
Iris smiled, gently stroking her still trembling waist, and pulled the straps behind her back up again.
After all, he was a demon. How could a demon give up so easily? Isri looked at Cesil, whose face was flushed red in the mirror, and his smile became even more unrestrained.
With one hand on the bent back, he tightened the straps with the other. Fortunately, Cecil had been gritting his teeth and didn't make a loud noise.
Isri wasn't satisfied yet. His long, phoenix-shaped eyes narrowed slightly, gleaming with silver light. He put one arm around Cesil's waist and asked, "Young Master, do you prefer a taller one or a shorter one?"
Seiler's warm back pressed against Isri's butler's uniform, the cold buttons fastened tightly, making Seiler shiver from the cold.
Sehir froze, a look of disbelief flashing in his eyes, and said angrily, "What nonsense are you thinking!"
Isri continued binding his hands: "Of course it's binding. Did Young Master think of something else? I didn't expect Young Master to know so much."
Sehir's face turned pale and then purple as he was told by Isri, his brows trembling with anger, and his hands clenched tightly together.
"Isri!"
"What is it, young master?"
Sesil's dark blue eyes stared directly at the gloating Isri in the mirror. To maintain his image, he said sternly, "Know your place!"
Isri's lips twitched as he finished tying the last bandage: "Yes, young master."
Ellis took a step back and pulled a box from under the food cart. Inside the box was a wig that matched Cecil's hair color.
If people didn't recognize Cecilia when she wore a wig, they would think she was a young lady from a noble family; she was so beautiful.
A long silk dress gently draped her slender body, flowing like water to the ground. Her long, loose golden hair covered her barely visible skin, and in the darkness, Cecil seemed to glow.
The white dress was sophisticated and unconventional, highlighting Cecilia's figure and making her look like a doll just taken out of a shop window, sacred and untouchable.
Isri smiled and stroked Cesil's ear, his voice alluring: "Regarding the question that Young Master just mentioned, my answer is, I prefer someone taller."
As soon as he finished speaking, Cecil's ear tips became visibly congested with blood, as if they were about to explode.
Sehir glanced at his reflection in the mirror, then turned and walked to the food cart, picked up his knife and fork, and prepared to sit down on the bed to eat; he was starving.
But the skirt was too long, and as soon as she took a step, Cecil accidentally stepped on the hem.
In an instant, losing his balance, Cecil fell forward, the knife in his hand about to pierce his eye.
Isri reacted quickly, taking a step forward and pulling Sehir into his arms, snatching the knife from his hand, and looking at the person in his arms with a gloomy expression.
Sehir's eyes were wide open, his heart was pounding, as if his eardrums would burst at any moment.
Isri kept his head down, making it impossible to see his expression, but those fluorescent amber eyes made Cesil break out in a cold sweat. He tried to push himself up, but Isri held him tightly and he couldn't muster any strength.
“Isri!” Sehir was getting angry.
The next second, Isri suddenly raised his hand, and the knife went straight for Cesil's eye, but stopped when it was about a centimeter away from the pupil.
"Young master, you are so careless. Your eyes are beautiful. Be careful, or I'm afraid I'll pluck them off and hide them next time."
It wasn't until Isri removed the knife from Sessil's eyes, closed the door, and left that Sessil came to his senses, his whole body drenched in cold sweat.
Isri! That madman! Sehir clutched the white dress tightly, crumpling it at the sides, and the fear in his eyes deepened.
Chapter Four
Once everything was ready, Sehir and Isri went out again. Because of the series of kidnappings and murders, there were only a few people left on the streets.
Isri followed three meters away from Ceshir. He wanted to get closer, but he held back in order to complete the mission.
Sehir walked through several deserted alleys, the cold air outside sending chills down his spine. When he looked back, he could no longer see Isri; he had no idea where he had gone.
Sahir suppressed his fear, hugged himself tightly, and forced himself to keep walking.
Thick fog permeated the alley, cascading down like snowdrifts from one hilltop to another. The rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard from time to time, and apart from the occasional bark of a dog, the deserted street was completely silent.
As if the cold air blocked out the light, the dark night was like a giant beast with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow you whole, bones and all, if you weren't careful.
The alleyway stretched into the distance, its end invisible. The sky wasn't a normal deep blue; instead, it was a deep blue tinged with an endless expanse of dark black, shrouded in mist, extending far into the distance.
Before Cecil had taken more than a few steps, a chilling, intermittent song drifted into his ears, grinding its teeth like a child's cry.
"Baby, baby is lost."
"Baby, baby is looking for mommy."
"The baby's mother is missing."
"Why is Mom only left with her head?"
"So Dad was beheaded."
The sound was very soft, but in the deserted alley, everything was magnified. Cecil stood still, panting heavily to calm himself down.
"Woof woof woof! Woof woof woof!"
Suddenly, a mad dog rushed out from in front of Cecil, its sharp snout and fangs still covered with raw meat it had recently eaten, and its teeth still stained with blood.
Sehir was terrified and turned to run, but the next second when he turned around, he was so frightened by the pair of pure black eyes with double pupils behind him that he sat down on the ground.