Page 29 of Married to the Devil

STELLA

“What the fuck is this?”My voice is faint.

“It seems to be a workshop,” Ben quips beside me, bringing me back to our situation. Not that I’d ever really left.

“I can see that, but—” I break off and take the room in. This isn’t just any workshop. The room is laid out exactly likemyworkshop. The one I had at the townhouse I shared with Mom.

I’d never been able to craft much at my place of business. The sounds of traffic and the train were too hectic for me to sink into my work in the way I need to.

Therearedifferences. This room has a dark and lush botanical-themed wallpaper instead of the white walls ofmyworkshop, and the window is floor to ceiling with the view of sunlit skyscrapers around us instead of my mother’s garden. None of the buildings are quite as tall as this one so the sight goes on and on. A thick curtain hangs to one side, ready for me to pull it to block out the world for when I needed to go deep into the work.

The most notable difference is the sage-colored plush reading chair in the corner I’d always kept empty. Once upon a time, I meant to get a chair or sofa for that corner. I’m alwaysfalling asleep at my desk, sometimes for a short nap to recharge during my magic workings and others when I’d stay up too late to apply finishing touches to a deadline project. But I explained away the need for one because it’s not like my actual bed was that far away. I shouldn’t be napping in my workshop anyway.

The chair looks so comfy in its placement that I cast those arguments away. I should have gotten the damn chair…and now I have one.

But other than that, the similarities are striking and eerie. The bookshelf of reference books I treasure is to the side of the door with my large worktable on the far wall. The antique-looking mini drawers that sit on the tabletop make me suspicious enough to step forward. It’d taken me months of scouring flea markets to find that type of storage.

The small scuffed up gold handles on the drawers are familiar, and I run my fingers over the deep scorch mark in the center of the desk.

“This is my stuff.” The revelation is a relief as much as it inspires more questions. I didn’t realize how much a part of me missed the stability of having a room that is wholly mine now that I’ve been thrust into a world of new rules and surroundings.

I thought I’d have to leave everything behind, butsomeonemade sure I wouldn’t.

“Did you do this?” I ask Ben, my voice cracking, but I suspect the real answer. This is the only place I’ve been able to pick up the faint scent of Stoneheart.

Why did he bother?

Ben shakes his head, brow furrowing in thought as he takes in the room. “He seems to care about your comfort.”

My mouth opens, but words escape me. None of the interactions I’ve had with Stoneheart would indicate this level of care. “He probably just got someone else to set it up. You were the one who moved the items I’d packed up at my place.”

Ben tilts his head. “I did. You should have told me to bring your furniture.”

I shrug. My throat is thick with an odd mix of emotions. Confusion is at the forefront, but also…gratitude.

“I didn’t think about it.” I was focused on the fact that I finally got my revenge. I didn’t consider everything I’d leave behind. “And I didn’t know what type of living situation I’d have here. I thought I may need to set up a place in my closet or something to craft charms.”

My nail digs against the blackened spot of the wood, and I wonder if I open the drawers under it if they’ll be full of my supplies organized how I left them. This is something that would have had to be done before the wedding.

I sit on my work stool. “Just when I think I have him figured out, he pulls something like this.”

His apology was a manipulation. The gleam in his eyes when I called him out on it made that clear, but that doesn’t explain this.

Ben blows out a breath. “I think that the moment anyone has anything figured out about Stoneheart, he changes to counter from a better position.”

So combative, but that goes with my own assessment. Would I even benefit from getting the upper hand on Stoneheart?

I blink at Ben who settles on the reading chair. It’s been near silence between us since Stoneheart pronounced him my bodyguard. A part of me is leery of his presence. Is he someone for me to trust? Or someone Stoneheart has a use for?

“How is Katarina doing?” I ask. My friend put on a brave face before I walked down the aisle, but she hadn’t been all right. Nearly losing your mate and child will do that to a person.

Ben clears his throat. “She’s doing well. Better this morning than she’s been.”

I nod in relief, making a note to myself to reach out and check on her myself. The only thing that’s stopped me so far is that I’m drowning a little here and don’t want to pull her down with me.

There’s a silent pause, neither of us seeming to know what to say in this cluster fuck. I nearly kissed him last night, and he knows it.

I shake my head. I can’t go on with this awkwardness between us.

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