Page 3 of The Devil's Daughter

“It’s a hell of a lot better than living with Arturo,” Ben mutters. Sam snorts in agreement, which for some reason earns him a dark look from both twins. Despite being joined at the hip with their sister, Sam still hasn’t quite earned much good will from Ben and Baz, but they’ll come around.

“You guyshaveto get over it,” Toni says. “Mom’s beside herself. I thought I was being a shit for not calling her much over the past three years, but at least I answered the phone once in a while when she called me. Trust me, the longer you put it off, the worse it’ll be when you finally do talk to her.”

“I can’t believe you’re okay with knowing this,” Ben says. “She and Papá Flores had an affair. While he was married!”

“Um, hello? Product of said affair sittingright here,” Toni says, pointing at herself. “So what if he did? They had an open marriage. Everyone was consenting, and when Mami got pregnant, he found her a good husband since he couldn’t marry her himself. Dad was a wonderful man. Even though their marriage was arranged, I know they were in love. They made you two and raised us together. We couldn’t really ask for a better family life, and you know it.”

Both twins glance at me then, and my neck prickles with awareness of their attention. I know they’re probably thinking about the shitty family life I had, but maybe there’s more to the look than that.

Toni lifts an eyebrow, her gaze shifting between me and the twins. I grab a puppy and bury my nose in its fur to try to hide any incriminating evidence of my embarrassment.

The twins’ attention shifts to a small group of people arriving in the lobby, and they move back to the doors leading into our little courtyard.

“Is something going on I should know about?” Toni whispers when they’re out of earshot.

“Oh, it’s nothing. They’ve just been acting weird around me ever since they found out you and I are half-sisters. LikeI’mtheir sister, but I’m not.”

She snickers. “No, you definitely aren’t.”

“That’s the problem,” Sam says under his breath. He narrows his eyes at the twins, who are back on guard duty, watching us from the shadows.

“Why is it a problem?” Toni asks. “If you and I can be together, what’s wrong with the idea of Elle and one of the twins?”

“Yeah, Sam—what’s wrong with that idea?” I ask, more annoyed that he’d be an ass about it than for any other reason.

He huffs and sits up, starts to speak, then stops and looks between me and Toni. We’re both glaring daggers at him. Finally he raises his hands. “You know what? Never mind. I’m not getting involved. All I know is that they’ve been ogling you since high school. I’ve been inonefight in my life that wasn’t in a sparring ring, and it was with the two of them—overyou, Elle. That’s how I got this scar.” He points to the jagged little line that cuts through one eyebrow.

I grit my teeth. “You know I can fight my own battles, Sam. And I highly doubt you hadanyreason to get into it with them at the time, anyway. Just some overblown sense of stupid honor. They were my friends. I told you that then, and it still stands.Friends.That’s it.”

Toni’s sly grin makes me look at her again. “What?” I demand.

“Honey, you might need to tellthemthat.” She tilts her head toward the shadows and I glance at Baz, who quickly turns his head, but not before I catch him staring directly at me. “And yourself,” Toni adds under her breath, bumping my shoulder with hers.

“So, how’s it going living together?” I say, changing the subject. “Maybe next week my jailors will let me come for a visit. All I’ve seen are photos of your house. So jealous.”

Toni chuckles and reaches out to squeeze Sam’s thigh. “Better than I could’ve imagined, to be honest. We’d love to have you over soon.”

“Little Malu’s going to love it,” I say. The puppies are being rambunctious again, and two of them topple Sam over and start licking him while Toni and I compare notes about our new living situations, as well as commiserate over the increased security measures.

Toni owns her own house near the university, a cute little mission-style bungalow with just enough open space in the back to keep a dog happy. I wonder if she knows the extent to which her brothers have gone with the surveillance and security system they installed to keep an eye on her. I consider confiding in her that I discovered the video feed proving they put cameras in every room, but I opt against it. If she knows, I’ll sound like an idiot. If she doesn’t, she might make her brothers turn off the cameras, and then I’d lose the one tenuous connection I have to the outside world from within that tower.

It’s only been a few days since I stumbled across that feed. I was hunting for dirt on my boss—and my father’s connection to him—when I found it. Cameras areeverywherein the penthouse, even more there than in Toni’s house. It’s as if we’re on some sort of messed-up reality show, but no one asked me to sign a release. Or Drake just cares that much about security.

Drake Stavros is an enigma, and Arturo must havesomethingon him to get him to agree to facilitate my protection the way he has. Granting me the internship was only the tip of the iceberg; he also agreed to let memove intohis penthouse at the top of the building he owns downtown. I’ve asked why, but he just deflects and changes the subject to work, which I suppose I should be happy with.

In exchange for agreeing to uproot my life and move from my dormitory to the penthouse, I insisted that he also mentor me in his business. There must be something big between him and Arturo though, and I have to know what it is.

Frankly, I’m not sure who I want to know more about the most—Drake or my father. Why am I worth the trouble? Why am I so special that they have camerasin my bedroom?

My gut reaction upon discovering this fact was to confront the twins about it, to demand they take the cameras out. But some small part of me resisted. Perhaps it was a subconscious need to combat the boredom in some fashion, but the idea of being watched holds a certain allure I never expected I’d feel. Admittedly, it would be different if it weren’t them; I trust the twins, and have alwaysobjectivelyknown how attractive they are. I’d be lying if I said I don’t find Drake attractive too. He’s about the same age as Marco and works out just as hard as the twins, though where he finds the time to do that is beyond me, since he’salwaysworking.

So after I got over my initial outrage about the surveillance, I started to wonder whether they find me attractive too. So far it’s been no more than a few casual tests now that I know where the cameras are. There’s one aimed at my bed that I finally found hidden just beneath the thermostat on my wall. There’s another in the bathroom, attached to the overhead light fixture. But until the last couple days I haven’t done more than carry out completely benign activities in front of them. Nothing overt, at any rate, aside from pooping with the lights off.

Knowing they’re there—that someone might be observing every time I undress, every time I bathe—has added an unmistakably exciting facet to the idea of being under lock and key. Not only that, but there arethreesets of eyes who might be watching. It’s made me ten times more conscious, more aware of Ben and Baz when we’re together.

Now, for example, even though I’m immersed in a pile of dark fur and snuggles, a heavy, hot tension deep within reminds me that the twins are nearby, watching.

It’s wrong of me not to tell my sister that they are probably watching her too. But when I went back to check the feed from Sam and Toni’s house, I realized the views of their space are nowhere near as invasive. There’s a camera in the entryway, and one in every room except the bathrooms. The camera in their bedroom isn’t even aimed at the bed, but at the French doors that lead out into their back yard. They’re monitoring her windows and doors only, it seems, unlike my room, where the cameras are all about who’sinsideand not who might conceivably enter without an invitation.

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