Page 31 of The Devil's Daughter

“Maybe it’s time to let the high school drama go. He was dead to rights when he confronted us about those photos of Elle. It’s no wonder he thinks we haven’t changed.”

“She sent them, though. It was none of his business. And they wereinnocent. She was sixteen then; she didn’t know what dickheads we really were. But Sam knew.”

“That he did. Little did we know he already had designs on Toni.”

“The way I see it, we’re square with him, and if he gives us shit, we’ll be justified in putting him in his place.”

I glance at him as he hands the bottle over after taking a swig. “We’re bigger men than that,hermano. Besides, Elle’s too close to him. If we care about her happiness, we have to let that shit go. Maybe friendship isn’t in the cards for us with any of her brothers, but we can at least try to be civil for her sake.”

He looks sullen as he takes his turn with the bottle. “How did she seem today? I admit I’ve been avoiding her. It’s too hard to be around her. Drake’s in the same place. If anything, he seems like he’s worse off than I am. Like he isn’t sleeping any better either.”

“You know her. She buries herself in work or school when she’s avoiding something. Used to be her shitty home life when her dad was on leave.”

He nods. “I guess there are worse ways to cope.”

I lift an eyebrow at the nearly empty tequila bottle he hands back to me, and we both laugh. But when we make it back to our beds, I can’t help thinking that keeping our distance is ultimately doing more harm than good.

I’ve seen Elle spiral when she’s stressed. It’s nothing like the tantrums she threw after a week of being cooped up in the penthouse. She finds the nearest project to occupy her mind and digs in, devoting every last ounce of energy to it until she’s nothing but an exhausted husk.

When I make it upstairs the next morning, I find Elle in her pajamas in the dining room, glued to her laptop with a half-full cup of coffee in front of her. Her top is a loose, baggy thing falling off one shoulder, and I don’t think she’s wearing a bra.

I have to pause to gather my wits before she notices me, because even when she’s a wreck, she’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever set eyes on.

“Hey, how long have you been up?” I ask, not sure I remember whether she was here when Ben and I came back down last night.

“Since about when you two went to bed. I couldn’t sleep. Is Ben okay?”

“He’ll survive. But you’re going to hate life if you don’t get more sleep. I know how you get when you’ve pushed too hard.”

“We don’t have time to slack,” she says, barely looking up from her work. “I think you need to look into Drake’s old head of security. He had access—maybe he still does. Do you know who he works for now?”

“No, but it’s as good a lead as any. I’ll see what I can dig up.”

We eat breakfast while we work, Elle’s coiled tension keeping me on task even though my concern for her is overwhelming my thoughts more than the desire I kept tamped down over the past two days.

Just when I’m starting to feel relief that the longing has finally taken a back seat to something else, Elle rises and comes around to the back of my chair like she did two days ago.

My neck tingles with anticipation seconds before she digs her fingers into my shoulders, her touch reigniting every dormant thread of need to have her. I let out an involuntary groan, because her fingers are fuckingmagical,and my fucking brain immediately strays to thoughts of what she’d do with them on other parts of my body.

It’s a challenge to pull away, but I do, only to turn and face a very frustrated, but beautiful Elle glaring at me.

“Are youtryingto wear down my defenses? I don’t know if I’m strong enough, Elle.”

She sits down, looking dejected. “I knowI’mnot. But what’s worse: letting it eat at us like we’ve been doing for the past three days, or getting it out of our systems? Ben slept that first night because of what we did, but he hasn’t since. None of us are sleeping.”

“Elle… It isn’t just about letting off steam. We can’t let ourselves go down that road if we want to keep you safe.”

I sigh and turn my chair halfway around to face her. Taking her hands again, I stare up into her eyes, trying to find the words to tell her all the reasons why we can’t. But I’m lost; she’s so fucking beautiful I want to cry.

It’s never been like this before. I’ve always been able to maintain distance, both emotionally and physically. She’s a friend. She’s Sam Santos’ younger sister and my brother and I don’t exactly have a stellar history with him, probablybecausewe’ve been friends with Elle all this time. We’ve been forced to let go of any bad blood now that Sam’s withoursister, and it would get supremely complicated if we were to turn around and start datinghissister.

Who is also our sister’s half-sister…

I groan and swipe my hands over my face as the tangled mess of our family trees sweeps over me again. But it doesn’t change a thing about how I feel, and I’ve never been so painfully aware that I canhaveher—if I’m willing to cross a line, both professional and personal.

“Baz, trust me, I know, and it isn’t that bad,” she says again, crouching in front of me and squeezing my hands.

“No, Elle, it’sworse. It’s fucking reckless to want you so much. Seeing that little dance you put on for the cameras on Monday … it kind of broke my brain.”

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