Page 128 of Mercy & Her Devils

To the side of the bookcases stands a cluttered desk, which looks like a whirlwind has hit it.

On the other side of the study, however, Gabriel is sitting hunched over the neatest oak desk that I’ve ever seen.

There’s nothing on the desk apart from three different monitors, along with at least ten phones and technology that I don’t recognize. It’s laid out in ranks like they’re on military parade.

Gabriel is talking quietly into one of his many phones with a professional intensity.

I study the outline of his handsome face.

I haven’t seen him like this.

From the moment that we returned from the forest, Gabriel had truly been on a mission: committed, relentless, and focused.

It’s impressive.

All I can do now, however, is wait on the outcome of the planning that we’ve been doing all afternoon.

The pieces are finally falling into place.

I can almost taste it.

Anticipation thrums through me, more than fear.

And it’s heady.

I glance at Kai’s desk. “Your filing system is interesting.”

“It’s called the writer’s method, lass.” Kai’s lips quirk. “Plus, I know where everything is. It’s good protection against anyone stealing my secrets. Nobody else would be able to make head nor tail of those papers. And look at my handwriting.”

I let go of his hand to wander forward and peer at his calligraphic style of handwriting that’s like a spider has slipped into ink and then crawled over the page.

I can tell that he writes quickly but with intense emotion. “Huh, is that Alpha rut or Alpha butt?”

Kai crosses his arms. “See? Foolproof. Only I will be able to read that. As an investigative journalist, it’s important that no one gets the jump on me, even if they steal my notes.”

I stroll back to Kai, running my fingers over the spines of his book.

This is a real treat.

Being able to touch this many books and know that I’m allowed to pull out and read whatever I like — as if I’m an Alpha — is the most precious thing that Kai has given me.

Does he realize it?

By the way that he’s watching me devour the book titles, I think that he does.

The books are a mix of treatises on ABO dynamics, cultures and sociology around the world, and journalism.

I tap my finger on one of the files. “What made you want to dedicate your life to this? You could have run away and then spent your time and money relaxing. I don’t know, doing what other billionaires do, yachting, traveling the world, or golfing…”

Kai huffs. “I’m already an excellent golfer.”

Of course he is.

“Then why aren’t you relaxing somewhere shooting eighteen holes, rather than being here…?”

“I’m hoping to get eighteen holes here too.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I nudge him with a groan. It doesn’t move him an inch. “But if I’d wanted a boring life, which was part of that circuit, then I’d have allowed myself to be married off to that rich widow.”

I grimace. “I’m glad that you didn’t.”

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