Page 57 of Cruel Devil

I drag her up against me, soaping her stomach. She melts against me, shuddering when I slide a hand under her bra to massage her breast.

“That’s not true. I can think of plenty things you’re good at.”

She grabs my wrist, plucking my hand out of her bra. I flatten my palm over her stomach instead, pretending to wash her torso. She lets me, resting her head back against my chest.

“You were right. He’s going to auction them off, Caesar.”

My hand stills. “Your sisters?” The thought makes my skin want to crawl off my fucking body. Even my cock, convinced it knew how this shower was going to end, goes limp. “Jesus, Angel.”

I try to turn her to face me, but she resists, sliding her hand up and gripping the back of my neck.

“I made a deal with him.”

Her voice is quiet, hesitant, so unlike her that I wish she’d still been mute. I caress her hips, wiping soap over the bruises like I can wash them away. These are mine from the construction site, the cottage. They’re a touch darker, more purple than red. I trace my fingers around the shapes they form, and Nyx grabs my wrist again.

“Are you even listening?”

“What kind of deal?”

Her grip tightens, nails biting into my flesh. I drop my head, scraping my teeth over her shoulder, suppressing the urge to clamp down.

“He wants me to kill someone for him.”

We both still. The only sound is the drumming of the water against our bodies, the patter as it hits the tiles below.

She glances to the side, then up at me. “I can’t leave them there. He’s going to sell them!”

“My father.” It’s a statement.

Of course it’s my father. O’Brien hired her to kill him in the first place. I guess he’s giving her a second chance.

I step back, looking down at where the water is circling the drain. Nyx’s fingers land on my pecs, clawing into me.

“No.”

I blink, staring at her in confusion. “No?”

She shakes her head, wet hair shifting around her head. “It’s Sergio.” She’s whispering again like she really is convinced the place is bugged.

“What?” It’s more a laugh than a word. “Why?”

“You think he sat me down for a cup of coffee and laid out his plan for world domination?” She scowls up at me. “You don’t like him anyway. Just tell me where he is, and I’ll handle the rest. I’ll make it look like an accident, like I would have with your?—“

She grunts when I slam her against the tiled wall. I swipe hair out of her face, ducking down until we’re at eye level.

“Sergio’s not here, and I have no idea when he’ll be back. Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. I hate that piece of shit, Nyx, but he’s my fucking uncle.” I laugh dryly. “And your uncle-in-law. Or did you forget you’re a Domingo now?”

“Who deserves to live more? Athena and Phoebe, or your rapist monster of an uncle?” She’s struggling to speak around the choke hold I have on her throat. Both her hands are trying to peel my fingers from her neck, but she’s not succeeding.

“And that’s it?”

Her eyelids flutter. “What do you mean?”

There’s a hesitation in her eyes. A quickening of her pulse that has nothing to do with my finger wrapped around her throat. She’s used to me being rough with her. She fucking loves it.

What she hates is laying all her cards on the table before she knows she has a winning hand.

“Is that all you spoke about? No other revelations?”

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