XXX
The year since Charlie had left Hell had been surprisingly quiet for the prince.
Lucky’s afterlife had changed drastically, but he didn’t hate it.
If anything, he actually preferred it. No more bouncing around the planet picking up lost humans, no more balancing office work with field work, no more chaotic scheduling.
He got up at the same time every day, walked to his office, got a coffee, and sat behind his still-tidy desk to handle paperwork.
The only deviation from the norm was on the first of every month, when he’d take Luke and John—who had grown to an unholy size and nearly sat eye-level with the prince—out to go collect the rent.
The Circle of Greed was thriving. They were projected to have the best fiscal year to date, expansion efforts had grown and proven beneficial, and it was officially deemed the best part of Hell to live in.
People were begging to get in. With his attention undivided, alongside taking proper time to rest, Lucky had turned into a city planning expert.
It took some time, but the king had found a way to keep Lucky’s position intact.
With the help of Lucius, Lucky remained the head psychopomp but had taken the role in a new direction.
He kept an eye on the paperwork, coached and redirected the rest of the department where needed, and crafted the perfect process when it came to collecting souls—all without ever leaving his beautiful and fully renovated office.
The file boxes his sweet Charlie had helped him with remained on the shelves, properly managed and handled with care.
The priest’s wobbly handwriting reminded Lucky that he needed to stay organized and not mess up Charlie’s hard work.
All of Hell started to look at Lucky in a different light.
He no longer partied, rarely drank, spent his free time golfing and following that passion for paint swatches and interior decorating.
He was revered, loved, and looked after his circle with a patience and watchful eye that rivaled that of Lucius.
The young prince had gained a nickname that seemed to fit his new persona: The Altruistic Architect.
Not as punchy as ‘The Patient God of Anger,’ but fitting for a ruler who treated his kingdom and its denizens with such care.
He’d had a brief conversation with the king following his two week stay in the hospital.
Lucky had discovered that his mother was indeed a human woman that had been manipulated much like Eve, then seduced, leading to his existence.
Though Lucky didn’t want to hear about his old man’s sexual escapades, he’d learned that his mother had been a nun.
She was kind, gentle, observant, and fearless.
But she’d had a fiery streak to her that had drawn the devil in, something that was uncommon at the time, and talked back to him.
Stood up to him, treated him like he wasn’t the literal devil—traits that sounded all too familiar to Lucky, but he wouldn’t bring that up.
Her death had been surprisingly hard on the king, and he’d taken such good care of Lucky because she had mattered to him, unlike many of the others.
She was also in Heaven despite his tainting, they still kept in touch, so Gabe could probably find her if he’d like to send a correspondence and make a connection.
Despite the fact that it had been almost a year since that discovery, Lucky hadn’t found the courage to write that letter.
He wanted to, but every time he considered it he worried that it would cause issues with Charlie, so he opted to simply wonder and wait.
Charlie wouldn’t live forever. Maybe once the mortal’s life came to an end and he was safely in Heaven, Lucky would finally meet the mother he’d always wondered about.
Finally find the courage to make real connections, send Charlie another letter apologizing for never coming when he called and for not saying the things he should have.
Someday, but he had an eternity to do so. There was no rush.
He’d done well to behave per the rules set out by the Seraph’s Office.
The only reason he knew Charlie was doing well was because Lucius had told him, and Lucius only knew because Seraphiel told them, and Lucky had absolutely taken notice that his older sibling and the CEO had been spending unprecedented amounts of time together.
It was weird, and even Gabe had mentioned it was making the vibes in the office—and on the pickleball court—feel strange.
Apparently Metatron had become a jealous, whiny brat about it.
The only slight bending of the rules was a bouquet that Lucky had set up on reoccurring shipments before the deal was struck.
It wasn’t the prince’s fault that he just so happened to lose the info for the flower shop.
He wanted to behave, so he wouldn’t seek out the details to cancel it.
The loophole—and some flowers—seemed to be too minimal an issue for the Seraph’s Office to intervene.
So, on the first of each month, a bouquet of yellow flowers would arrive on Charlie’s doorstep with a note that simply read, ‘don’t forget to pay your rent. ’
As Lucky stepped into Hell HQ on a late December morning, he was waved down by Salazar before passing Luke and John off to Nyx who now met him at the lobby daily to go spend the day with the hellhound so it wouldn’t destroy half of the business district from all of the pent up energy.
“Morning, Sal,” Lucky said.
“Morning, Your Highness. New shirt?” Salazar asked.
“Yeah, I’m trying to add some color to my wardrobe but I feel like this might be a tad too bright. Bub picked it out.”
“The yellow is a little loud, if I’m being honest,” Salazar said. “His Royal Highness called for you, by the way. Wanted me to let you know before you went to your office.”
“Awesome, love that for me,” Lucky groaned. “Thanks.”
With his coffee in hand, he entered the elevator.
It sped through the floors until it stopped with a polite ding.
It was another hot and rainy day in Hell, red lightning cracked beyond the tall windows and bloody droplets coated the windows.
It had been doing that more often than not as of late, and Lucky found it odd.
Still clutching his coffee, he waved with two fingers at Lucius who was sitting in front of the massive desk before addressing his father.
“You’re being reassigned,” Satan said without a beat of hesitation.
“Wait, what?” Lucky gasped, nearly dropping his drink in shock. “I-I thought I was doing well? We had a good year, what did I do wrong?”
“And this is why I am here,” Lucius said with a sigh. “What he means to say, little one, is that we have a proposition for you. A challenge, I suppose. One that requires a small shift but I think you will find it a most exciting opportunity. You have done nothing wrong.”
Lucky bit his lower lip. “Okay?”
“We have reason to believe the Rapture is coming,” Satan noted, pointing back to the blood-covered window.
“Really? That’s… surprising,” Lucky noted.
“Obviously, we do not have a date or timeline, but things are strange,” Lucius replied.
“Due to this fact, we are expecting an increase in souls and things are… lacking in certain circles. As you are well aware, we have issues with the leadership of Limbo. The egos of many of our siblings forces them to think it is beneath them, and with it being our first line of defense it needs restructuring.”
“So you’re… demoting me?” Lucky inquired.
“Expanding your workload, or shifting it for a few months, if that is easier to rationalize. You will obviously still keep your duties here, but we would like for you to tackle Limbo in the same way you did your own circle. Look at the failures, the lack, see where it can be improved. Address their paperwork. You have free rein to do as you please. The Rapture means the whole of Earth will be shifting, and we need to ensure we are prepared from the top down,” Lucius continued.
“You have done a phenomenal job this past year, Lucky. I trust you can handle this. Set an example for the other levels that are slipping,” Satan added.
Lucky nodded. “Y-yes, of course. When do you need me to start this project?”
“Tomorrow, after you finish your first of the month duties,” Lucius said.
“However, we would like to request you take today and go survey, see what you need to order or gather for supplies so you can handle the project accordingly. Feel free to report those needs to me when you are ready, and take the rest of the day off for your own health. I will be supervising this project since it was my idea, and we need to allow Father the flexibility to handle other business since he seemingly has a war to plan now.”
“Of course. I won’t let you down,” Lucky replied.
The king waved him off. “Good, dismissed.”
“And take some time tonight to enjoy the New Year festivities. You deserve it,” Lucius added.
Lucky excused himself and headed toward the elevator.
“They’re going to be audited.”
Lucky was hit by a sense of déjà vu at his father’s words. What a cruel fucking joke that was.
“Can I request assistance? That’s quite a hefty amount of tasks to handle solo,” Lucky noted.
“Beelzebub has already offered to join you as a temporary admin while he rehabs his… pickleball injury,” Satan said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Well, Lucky assumed it was his nose, it was hard to tell with all of the fire.
“Pickleball is the worst thing to ever happen to Hell,” Lucky groaned.
“He went ahead of you and will meet you at the gates,” Lucius added.
“Am I allowed to get that close?” Lucky inquired.
“Yes, nothing will happen to your mortal. Trust me.”
“I’ll report back once I’ve looked around.”