"Sometimes even the devil on my shoulder asks "What the fuck are you doing?"

The next morning, I was already waiting in front of this guy's house, clad in my skinniest ripped jeans and the most revealing top I had ever worn that hugged my frame quite tightly, sporting my favorite pair of black Louboutins.

It wasn't too hard for me to find the address Yoongi had given me. Apparently this douchebag lived in the fanciest town area, which to be honest didn't surprise me much.

Toying with a strand of my hair while chewing on my gum, I had my gaze pinned at the building's entrance. I glanced down at the red clock wrapped around my wrist. Almost 8:30 am. Most humans went to work at that time.

What exactly did that scumbag do for a living? I forgot to check. I bet it's something stupid and tacky, just like the excuses he gives the women he dumps.

I wondered if I'd even recognize him. I did my best to memorize his face, but this was one of the peculiar details I had noticed about humans – they can look entirely different in a photo and in real life.

I mean, I had a general idea of what he was supposed to look like. Tall and lean frame, broad shoulders, long legs. Raven black hair and large piercing eyes. Judging by the area he lived in, he was extremely wealthy. What most women would call the full package, I guess, but for me he was just another cliché bachelor.

Not that I cared much about it.

Tapping my foot impatiently, I let out a long sigh. One of the disadvantages of being the devil's daughter was that I tend to get quite full of myself, which that day resulted in me going to that dude's building completely unprepared. I did no research on him whatsoever. What if he simply wasn't at home? I should have checked it up.

Just as I was about to pull out my phone and call Yoongi for assistance, the door to the underground garage started opening slowly and a shiny midnight black Ferrari turned up at the ramp.

Ugh. Of course he'd drive a Ferrari.

All of those self-absorbed narcissistic assholes enjoyed showing off their wealth with shamelessly flashy cars.

Smoothly, the slick vehicle made a right and pulled over next to the sidewalk. The driver came out, dressed in black from head to toe – he flaunted a black button up shirt and black jeans that complimented his lean frame. Lustrous crow black bangs draped his forehead and cascaded over his pitch black aviators, his hair flowing gracefully with the light wind.

Gotcha.

He walked around and opened the front trunk's lid. I found myself getting a little bit frantic, which happened extremely rarely. When thinking about today, I was determined I was going to act with my gut and right now, I had no idea what I was doing. He was about to take off and I had to do something.

Whipping around with haste, I set my eyes on a random weirdo who was about to get in his car. I ran over to him, gripping on his upper arm and tugging at it.

"You," I growled out impatiently. "Give me your keys."

He offered me a shocked look which I deemed to be annoying. "But-"

"I said, give them to me," I repeated, staring deep into his eyes and letting a small part of my energy to come out and make him obey.

Dazed, his jaw hung low as he stared back at me as if he were bewitched. "Here," he mumbled blankly, handing over the keys.

Without much hesitation, I grabbed them and hopped into his car, not paying any attention to the brand. As I was about to start the engine, the guy leaned over the window and tapped on the roof of the car.

"By the way, my name's Jungkook," he smiled shyly, chewing on his lower lip and looking at me with adoration. Stupid side effect of my energy. "Can I buy you dinner sometime-"

"Sorry Junglebook, gotta go," I cut him off, stomping on the accelerator as the car shot down the street like a bullet, resulting in him losing his balance and falling on his butt on the sidewalk.

My teeth caught my lower lip as I stared back at my man-target intently. His back turned to me, he was still shuffling through his trunk. I stepped on the gas which made the car fiercely speed up. I inhaled sharply, swiftly steering the wheel in his direction as the vehicle sideslipped, gliding and colliding right with the back corner of the slick Ferrari.

"Oh my gosh, I am sooo sorry!" I exclaimed in faux dismay, tumbling out of the car hastily and putting on my most shamefaced expression.

Stealing an unnoticed glance at him, I grew aware he seemed completely unmoved by what had just occurred. Furrowing his brows, he strode to the other side of the car to stand next to me and look at the damage I had done to his precious car.

It was a minor collision, but still, he was a man. And from what I gather about human men they can get quite overprotective of their cars. Why isn't he yelling at me yet?

"That's entirely my fault," I continued rambling, bouncing on my feet. Maybe if I throw in a stereotypical sexist remark he'll respond? "You know us girls and how we are, such clumsy drivers-"

"My insurance will take care of it." he cut me off sternly without sparing me a glance.

I cleared my throat, urging him to look at me. Wait a second. Why isn't he gawking at me? Everyone who knows me well is aware that I don't particularly appreciate the lack of attention, and right now, he seemed straight up bored.

How fucking rude.

"Please," I went on. "I feel so awful, let me make it up to you somehow. How about coffee-"

"No, thank you." again, he cut me off while typing something on his smartphone and completely ignoring my ravishing exterior. This is preposterous!

On the verge of desperation, I let my fingers run up his upper-arm where I rubbed lightly. "But I insist." I gave the most angelic expression ever, innocently batting my eyelashes at him.

This seemed to catch his attention as he gave me a rather dumbfounded look and shuddered away which made my insides boil with exasperation. Once again, I let my energy pour through me and reach out to him. Zero reaction. Nothing. Nada.

Why in my dear father's name isn't this working?!

Wordlessly, he stuffed his hand in the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out something. I could hardly contain my anger when he handed me something... atrocious.

A business card.

Who does that guy think he is? When human men see me they want to give me flowers, diamonds, the world. Not a fucking piece of paper. What am I supposed to do with it, wipe my celestial ass?

"I have to go to work now. That's my info, call me so that we can exchange details and swap insurance information." He said in a flat, monotone voice with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

Brows knit together, all I could do was stare blankly at him as he spun around and climbed into the Ferrari without even waiting for my reply.

The next moment, the sound of someone clapping their hands reached my ears. "Bravo, Faye, you were on fire out there. Piece of cake, huh? I thought you were gonna be done with him in a day?" someone laughed and I whirled around to meet Yoongi's dark abysses staring at me, mocking me. He was grinning widely which earned my lethal glare as I let out an infuriated huff.

"Are you here to gloat?" I gritted.

"Faye, I thought I told you this case was going to be special. I don't think the usual way in which you approach them will work here." Yoongi shrugged, standing up from the curb and patting his clothes. He waddled over to me and pointed at the car to my right. "Hey, that's not your car."

Damn it. I totally forgot I crashed someone else's car.

"Yeah," I grumbled bitterly. "I borrowed it." I looked around to search for the guy from before but he was nowhere in sight. "Now that I think about it, maybe I'll keep it."