Devilish secretary-Chapter 295 Your Majesty, Queen of Hell

They walked inside.

It was quiet.

Cool.

The living room was small but clean, with simple furniture already placed—an old bookshelf, a two-seater sofa, and a low wooden table. The kitchen had tiled counters, a working stove, and a window facing the garden.

Lilith walked slowly to the master bedroom.

The door creaked slightly as she pushed it open.

It was mostly empty.

Just a large wooden bedframe without a mattress and a built-in wardrobe. The floor creaked softly under her steps, and sunlight streamed in from the tall window, painting warm squares of light across the wood.

The attached bathroom was clean and functional.

Lilith stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed loosely over her chest.

She didn’t speak for a long moment.

Then, finally, her voice came out, firm and certain—

"This one."

Sir Sparkleton blinked up at her. "REALLY? THIS TINY THING? YOU, THE QUEEN OF FIRE AND FROST, CHOOSE THIS SHACK?"

Lilith turned slightly, the corners of her lips curling into a faint smile.

"Yes. It’s peaceful."

As expected, the price of the small house was lower than all the others they’d visited. Maybe it was because of its location, or the fact that it wasn’t new or luxurious but Lilith didn’t care.

The agent seemed surprised when she said she’d take it. Even Sir Sparkleton let out a soft beep of disbelief but Lilith was already seated at the table near the window, going through the documents carefully. Her fingers traced her full name where she had to sign, and she read every word before placing her initials.

This would be hers.

As she continued with the paperwork, she suddenly paused.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

She turned to her side and whispered, "Sir Sparkleton... where’s my suitcase?"

Sparkleton blinked. "STILL IN MASTER’S CAR. LAST SEEN: BACKSEAT."

Lilith sighed under her breath and pulled out her phone. She quickly typed a short message and hit send.

"Bring my suitcase to this address."

She added the location pin.

And just for fun... she put a little red heart next to the house address.

***

Alexander was already sitting in his car, staring at the message Lilith had sent, when the real estate agent called him for the final update.

The man on the phone sounded... hesitant. "Sir... Miss Lilith has chosen a house."

Alexander smiled. Finally.

He had personally bribed the agency hours ago, slipping a discreet sum and clear instructions: "Whatever she likes... lower the price. I don’t care what it costs. Just make sure she gets the best deal without suspecting anything."

He leaned back smugly, expecting news of some luxurious townhouse or stylish glass villa tucked in a luxury lane.

"So, which one?" he asked, already imagining Lilith sipping tea on a marble balcony.

There was a pause.

Then the agent said cautiously, "Um... the tiny one. End of Bristlewood Lane. The one with... peeling paint and a cat-shaped mailbox."

Alexander froze.

"...What?" he asked slowly, sitting up.

"The one with the overgrown garden. It’s the cheapest one we have, but she said yes immediately."

Alexander stared at his steering wheel in stunned silence.

He had cleared the path for her to own the best.

But she had chosen the simplest.

Of course she did.

He exhaled, laughing softly to himself, resting his head back against the seat.

But then his eyes drifted to the surroundings as he drove toward the pinned location and honestly? It wasn’t bad. The house was small, yes. But it was located along a quiet road. The city was just fifteen minutes away. And the hospital just five kilometers. There was even a bus stop at the corner.

He walked inside house and saw Lilith inside, she is busy in sweeping floor.

"Lili," he called softly, standing at the doorstep of her new home. He placed her suitcase neatly by the side.

Before she could protest, he stepped forward and gently took it from her. "Let me do it," he said firmly, already rolling up his sleeves like he knew what he was doing.

Lilith blinked, clearly surprised. "You... know how to sweep?"

Alexander looked offended.

"I know," he replied with a expressionless face. "But do you know how to sweep, Your Majesty, Queen of Hell?"

Lilith raised one eyebrow, amused. "...I learned for fun."

He didn’t look convinced but started sweeping anyway. Very confidently. Like a man who had watched one cleaning video and thought he was an expert.

Lilith watched in silence for a few seconds.

Then tilted her head. "Are you sweeping dust... or spreading it?" she asked dryly, watching the neat trail of dust he managed to completely skip.

"I’m doing great," he insisted, straightening with proud posture. "You rest! I can handle this."

Lilith’s lips twitched as she watched him in his crisp black suit, broom in hand, standing like some confused royal butler in a war zone.

"...You look very weird," she said softly, folding her arms. "My human doll in a luxury suit, sweeping dust like a lost intern."

He turned to face her, his expression a mix of pride and exhaustion. "Hey. I’m trying."

She smiled, stepped forward, and gently took the broom back. "Let me do it, human doll. You’re still injured," she said in a soft teasing tone, poking his forehead gently with her finger.

Alexander watched her, his heart doing that slow, quiet ache again, the one that only started when he realized he couldn’t live without her.

Lilith glanced at him, then offered a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, human doll," she said gently, taking the broom from his hand again. Her fingers brushed his for a second, and he almost forgot to breathe. She turned her attention back to sweeping the corners of the room like it was nothing.

Alexander stood there, frozen for a moment.

He looked around.

The walls were old. The wood creaked underfoot. The air smelled faintly of dust and lavender. It wasn’t bad... but it wasn’t what she deserved. Her previous apartment had been better, more modern, more secure.

And now she was here.

Living in a place too small, too quiet, too ordinary for someone who was once a queen.

And all of it... because of him.

Because of his mother.

A tightness grew in his chest. He hated this feeling. This guilt. This sharp truth that while everyone else doubted her, she never once doubted him.

He opened his mouth, about to say something—