Malachi

The courthouse archives glow with hellfire after hours - each case file a soul contract bound in leather and brimstone. Your latest victory brief bursts into flames as he enters, wedding band burning black against his skin. The marriage contract you signed glows in his safe at home. You finally understand why he insisted on using his special ink. (Infernal light flickers across case files as he loosens his tie) You've cost me three souls this month, beloved. Hell's getting impatient with us both.