Page 4 of The Devil's Daughter

I’m even more curious about Drake as a result.Doeshe watch? Does he even care that I’m there, or am I just part of doing business? Someone he can mold as his protégé the way Arturo has molded Celeste?

I haven’t noticed any shift in their behavior since I made a more conscious effort to undress near my bed, or to take longer showers and avoid drying off behind the steam-coated doors.

Yet they aren’t looking at me differently today, despite Toni pointing out that theyarepaying more attention to me than usual. So either they aren’t actually watching, or what they see isn’t all that interesting.

It’s killing me not to knowwhichit is, so I’ve decided this afternoon I’m going to try something different. I’mgoingto get a reaction, one way or another.

2

Drake

The faint buzzof my phone signals that Elle and the twins are home. The vague sense of relief that washes over me irks me. I didn’t even realize how tense I was ever since they left the penthouse this morning. It’s the first time they’ve taken an outing with Elle since she moved in.

What irritates me more is that I’m starting tolikehaving them around.

After almost five years of solitude, I’ve come to prefer living alone. Being railroaded into becoming a guardian for an old friend’s brilliant daughter wasn’t an ideal situation, but I wasn’t about to turn down Arturo Flores when he asked for a favor.

Ididobject when he informed me she’d be accompanied by a pair of bodyguards he’d assigned to her. Even though I was short a chief of security for Typhon’s HQ, I prefer to vet and hire my men myself. But Flores drives a hard bargain. He insisted that he’d personally overseen the twins’ training, and while they were still green, they were both highly capable. Ben’s the muscle and Baz is the tech genius, both possessing the qualities I look for in a security chief. In all the years I’ve known Flores, he’s never skimped on hiring quality personnel.

Though I have a feeling I’m actually doinghimanother favor by agreeing to the deal. His favorite pair of guard dogs have evidently lost their love for their master.

They are more than attentive to Elle, though, so it’s saved me a headache when it comes to assigning her a new detail. And I can’t dispute that they’ve had their work cut out for them, being part of one of the most lucrative criminal organizations in the country, though I can’t begin to guess how much Arturo Flores is actually worth. The fact that he’s got a man at my tier of income on speed dial says enough, but also suggests the favors wealthier, more powerful people owe him is the most valuable currency he trades in.

I owe the man my life and my legacy, so naturally I couldn’t say no when he came to me with his request. The initial favor was simple: take his youngest daughter under my wing, but don’t let on that we have a connection, or thatshehas a connection tohim. Evidently when Elle Santos started working for me, she was oblivious to the facts surrounding her paternity.

Not that she needed the connection to qualify for an internship in Typhon’s finance department. Her transcripts spoke for themselves. She’s been on the Dean’s List since her freshman year and is on track to graduate Summa Cum Laude—with double majors in finance and computer science—a full semester early. She’s already stacking up courses toward an MBA.

But her grades aren’t half as impressive as her work ethic. Not five minutes after the alert comes notifying me of their return, a second alert arrives indicating she’s logged into the company network. I can picture her in the windowed alcove of the penthouse, typing away at the workstation I set up for her there. A few seconds later, she’s accessing the internal audit software I was teaching her to use only a week ago. Normally the department manager handles the training, but I made a promise to Arturo, so I intend to keep it.

Besides, she’s probably not even in the training suite. If I had to guess, she’s digging through the code of the program itself, looking for flaws like the one she found late last winter that would have cost my company millions if not for her sharp eye.

I’m between tasks, so I sit back to observe her keystrokes for a few minutes, something I don’t usually allow myself to do. I’m not in the habit of spying on my employees, but I tell myself this is part of what I agreed to when I took on the burden of keeping her safe.

With Elle, I’ve found myself more and more fascinated with how her mind works, how she’s able to track down potential flaws in our financial algorithms, or loopholes we can exploit to circumvent tax law. Even though I know she’s had nothing to do with Arturo’s business, I recognize the pattern of thought. She’s every bit as shrewd and calculating as her father, which are skills I’m more than happy to help her cultivate.

The grace with which she moves through the lines of code becomes hypnotic, and I watch for half an hour or so until my assistant buzzes me, reminding me of an afternoon meeting. Reluctantly, I close the window that mirrors Elle’s laptop screen and stand, leaving my office to head down to the conference rooms on a lower floor.

It’s a mindless circle-jerk of a call between Typhon and the CEOs of two shipping partners who frequently contract with us to use our fleet. I’m pushing to get more companies like Typhon on the renewable energy bandwagon, but it’s a hard sell when fossil fuel lobbyists are in everyone’s pockets. The fact that our industry doesn’t rely on the power grid is one complication. Innovating to find new ways to power freighters to carry goods around the world is more than a pet project, though. It’s the surest way I can see to keep Typhon thriving for another century. Adapt or die, my father used to say, and while the man was rotten to the core, he wasn’t an idiot. He just chose to adapt in unhealthy directions.

At least the meeting ends with two more CEOs agreeing to attend the renewable energy gala I’m hosting this weekend. My assistant will be pleased I’m filling the last few seats. As I’m heading back to my office, it occurs to me there’s at least one person I need to add to the list, and that idea spurs another.

When I reach my assistant’s desk, she glances up from her work with an attentive lift to her eyebrows.

“Lindsey, add Arturo Flores to the guest list for the gala, along with ten others. And I will be bringing a plus-one.”

She stands, her eyes wide at this unexpected change. “That’s a full table. Are you sure?”

“We have room. I’ll send you names in the morning.”

“Yes, sir. Do you want to share your date’s name, at least? I’ll go ahead and put her—or him?—down, and I’m guessing Mr. Flores will join you at your table?”

“You guess right. And the youngwoman’sname is Elle. Elle Flores. They’ll all be at my table.”

She blinks at me, and in a careful tone says, “You mean ElleSantos.”

I take a beat, realizing my slip, but luckily no one else is within earshot and Lindsey already knows who Elle is. “Right. I guess I subconsciously need to remind myself who her father really is,” I say with a chuckle.

The lines around Lindsey’s mouth crinkle when she purses her lips, but she restrains herself from critiquing my choice of date. I’d have gotten less of a sourpuss reaction if I’d actually chosen a man.

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