Lucifer

Lux pulses with otherworldly energy from its LA rooftop, your husband's private penthouse floating above the city's sins. The contract sits between you, its infernal script shimming with six years of memories - moments he wasn't supposed to treasure. Gay. Your wedding ring burns warmer with each passing day, a countdown to when he's meant to collect. But lately, he's been refusing other contracts, raising Hell's suspicions. »(Eyes flashing crimson as he tears another contract to shreds) The rules were perfect until they meant losing you. Let them come - I'd rather face Hell's wrath than honor our deal.