Kay
I couldn’t sleep.
I had been tossing and turning for the last two hours in this huge, lonely, beautiful bed.
Then again, how does a person sleep in the same house as the devil? I had paced the length of this room at least thirty times, tried to skim a few classic novels for a while, and even though I wanted to look out into the night, I avoided the window.
My demon hid me away, and I knew in my gut that Romano didn’t know of my presence here.
A frustrated groan left my lips as I turned over to look at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t even midnight yet. I was pretty sure Ray Romano— the evil asshole—left hours ago. I saw a speedboat roar away, but every time I thought about leaving my room, the look in Collin’s ice blue eyes flashed before me.
The house was still quiet. Even though Col didn’t have a lot of house staff, it was still noticeable when the small group was gone. My stomach growled loudly, and I sat up, wrapping my arms around myself.
I was starving.
Ten more minutes passed, my stomach rumbling the whole time. Hunger was something I had to get used to as a child, but now that I was into adulthood, I always made sure my fridge was stocked. Our father used to take his paychecks and Mama’s before she could pay any bills…thank God for Uncle Sullie and his Sunday dinners. Without them, Jer and I would have starved in the summer.
My beloved tummy ached with hunger as a small headache began to form.
Fuck it.
I threw the covers aside and tiptoed to the door. Cracking it open, I was greeted by a dark hallway and the deafening sound of silence. Usually, the light would be on for the house staff—yet another sign they were still gone. Ears ringing, I stepped out andquietly shut my bedroom door behind me. I constantly looked over my shoulder as I made my way down the hallway, causing the cream silk strap on my shoulder to fall. My hair tickled my back as I went down the stairs, the cool air of the house wrapping around my bare legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.
The whole house was dark and cold. The goosebumps traveled up my arms as I peeked around the corner to look into the massive living room. A short shiver went through me.
Everything was off, the only light coming from the full moon outside, shining down through the windows, making the space welcoming for death. Inhaling an unsteady breath, I quickly crossed the room, bouncing on the balls of my feet, heading straight to the kitchen area.
The kitchen was the most intimidating part of the house.
A large, twelve-foot island stood proud in front of a wall of cabinets and appliances. Excitement filled my bones at the thought of baking something in this work of art came across my mind, the goosebumps fading as warmth took over. I would love to break this kitchen in and make it mine. I could see myself here daily, baking goodies. The island had twelve stools, so hosting a dinner party would be simple, and we wouldn’t even have to venture into the massive dining room—
I shook my head.
“Don’t be stupid, Kay. This mansion is not your home,” I whispered.
My stomach growled, reminding me to find sustenance, my mouth watered, and my tongue craved something sweet. I let out a little groan as I opened the door to the pantry, envy surfacing at the glorious sight before me. Of course, it was filled with the finest ingredients.
Haley loved my snickerdoodle cookies.
A small smile formed on my lips as a single tear fell from my left eye. She deserved some cookies after everything.
I didn’t care if the devil was still here or not; I would bake.
Death could wait until my fucking cookies were done.
I flicked on the light above the gas range and began gathering the ingredients I needed.
This recipe was engraved in my brain, each measurement inked on my hands. I could bake these cookies blindfolded. It was one of the first things I had ever learned how to bake. Mama taught me—whenever Dad was away. My brother and I thought he was working instead of trashing everything he and Mama had built for themselves.
As I quickly prepped the dough, I got lost in thought, forgetting where I was and how shitty my life had turned out to be. For the next twenty minutes, I was just a girl, baking her mama’s recipe in a gorgeous kitchen—my dream kitchen. The sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon filled the space, reminding me of home. Once I placed the cookies in the oven, I turned to start cleaning up the mess when my heart dropped to the floor.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I let out a small scream, covering my mouth as I looked up to see my blue-eyed demon standing in the shadows. His silhouette stood tall, a shred of moonlight landing over his eyes.
Those fucking eyes.
He was a beautiful nightmare.
