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Ravaged By a Devil

Page 77

by Faye Pierce

She has me wrapped so tightly around her little finger and she doesn't even fully realize the power she holds over me.

"Okay," I say quietly.

"Have a great day today, Cain."

I let out a low, defeated sigh, running a hand through my messy hair. "You too, doll."

I end the call, lower the phone, and throw a sharp jab into the empty air beside the bed just to get the leftover adrenaline out of my system.

She's fine.

She's safe at work, and that's all that matters right now. But the next time I see her, I'm going to make damn sure she knows I'm not fucking joking about her safety.

By six p.m., I’m sitting in my car parked right across the street from The Blackwood. Whenever her evening shifts end, it's usually somewhere between six and seven. She said she’d text, and since she hadn’t texted yet, I drove out here early just to ensure her stubborn ass didn't manage to slip away again.

I cut the engine, pull my phone from my pocket, and dial her number.

It rings once. Twice. Three times. No answer.

A cold spike of adrenaline shoots straight up my spine. My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache, and I’m already reaching for the door handle, ready to storm inside that club and tear the place apart looking for her, when the line finally connects.

"Hi, Cain," her soft voice comes through the speaker.

"Is your shift not over yet?" I demand, my eyes scanning the front entrance of the building.

"Wait..." She hesitates on the other end, her voice dripping with caution. "Don't be mad."

Oh, fuck. What did she do this time?

"Alexis," I growl, my knuckles turning white against the steering wheel.

"My shift finished thirty minutes early, and I just took a cab home because I didn't want to bother you, and⁠—"

I don't let her finish the sentence. I press the red button on the screen, cutting her off mid-word because I am so fucking angry, I can barely see straight.

I toss the phone onto the passenger seat, throw the car into gear, and stomp down on the accelerator, tearing through the streets back to the estate.

When I throw open the front door of the estate, my jaw is set so tight it feels ready to snap. But instead of marching straight into my clean, marble foyer, I walk directly into a face full of leaves.

"What the fuck?" I growl, slapping the decorative branches out of my face with a swing of my arm.

I take a step back and stop dead in my tracks. Standing right beside the front entrance is a massive, ridiculous ceramic vase holding a towering fake plant. And right across from it, hanging flush against the dark wood paneling of my living room wall, is a massive, pastel-colored painting of a fucking unicorn.

I stare at the canvas, my brain momentarily short-circuiting.

What the actual fuck?

And then the smell hits me—a sickly sweet, suffocating wave of strawberry that completely drowns out the scent of my usual leather and cedar.

"Cain? Is that you?"

Alexis steps out from the hallway leading to the kitchen, her hair pinned up loosely, her apron and hands covered in white powder.

"I'm making⁠—"

"Alexis, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I explode, my dark mood boiling over as I take two long strides toward her. "I told you. The Devlins are dangerous. You can't keep doing this!"

She pauses, wiping her powdered forearm across her forehead, her eyes wide. "But I'm safe, Cain. I took a secure cab, I checked behind me⁠—"