Page 47 of Devil’s Promise

But that is not my concern. It sits heavy in my stomach, but this isn’t a moment for stupid fucking feelings. “I need the construction rights in section seven amended. I want more freedom in what buildings I build and who I hire to complete them.”

Don gives me the ugliest smile, so…plastic, that it’s disgusting. Promise was right. Again. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Make it happen, send it to my lawyer.”

“I’ll send it now. I’d like everything signed before you marry my daughter. Naturally.” Don’s smile widens and I stand. One might almost mistake his words for paternal care. Filthy animal.

I don’t shake Don’s hand as I turn to leave, he’s not worth touching. Axel pushes off the mantel, following me to the door.

Axel is silent until we reach the parking lot. “18c?”

“Don’t ask.”

“I’m asking.”

I let out a long breath. “He wants me to make Promise go away. Permanently. Preferably within six months of an election cycle.”

“You are fucking shitting me,” Axel spits. “You’re going to fuck her and then kill her?”

“I keep my promises.” He gives me a hard cold stare before he climbs into the driver’s seat of his car. I draw in a deep breath and open the passenger door.

When I sign that document, I’m making one.

This ends in death.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Promise

We don’t go back to Angel’s loft, instead we go to the club.

As if I needed another reminder that this wedding is a complete sham. I’m dumped in the shit apartment at the top of the building.

I have no idea what to do with myself, facing a day of nothing. I’m still in my Nantucket sundress.

I finally take it off and start doing some exercises just to work off some of the energy. This day has been so much, and I just need to do something physical.

But I’m only fifteen minutes in when a knock sounds at the door.

I jump into the bedroom, scrambling to get the dress on over the sheen of sweat that’s broken out over my skin.

“It’s Candy. I’m coming in.” I stop struggling, wilting onto the bed. She’s seen my naked bits, I don’t need to dress for her.

She slowly opens the door to the bedroom and then stops to stare. I’ve flopped back on the bed, sweaty, my dress half on.

“Bad time?”

Sighing, I shake my head. She hands me a pad of paper and a pencil.

Trying to keep busy.

“Angel sent me up to see if you needed any beauty treatments before tomorrow.”

I guess I am actually going to do a few bride-type things. I nod.

Highlights?

“Agreed,” she says as she studies my hair. “And some low lights too.”