Page 143 of The Devil's Deal

“I did. A lot. And, yeah…” Her voice drifts off with a sigh. “He’s so good at that.”

“Well, okay, then. Glad you’re…ah…having fun.”

She giggles low. “I love you, and I can’t wait to see you soon. If my family contacts you, don’t tell them anything.”

“Are you kidding? I’d never.” I pause. “You sound happy.” My lips pinch with a smile.

“I am. I only miss my job, but they’re fine with me taking some extended time off. I told them I had a family emergency. I’d say being forced into a life I didn’t want is an emergency.” She lets out a dreary sigh. “I thought my life was over, Chiara. I really thought I’d have to marry that asshole or die. Now, I’m married to someone else. I know it’s not supposed to last beyond our arrangement of three months, but…”

“But what?”

“What if it did? What if we stayed married? I mean, he’s nice to me, and it feels like he genuinely cares.” A heavy breath rushes out of her. “I sound insane, I know. I barely know him. It’s only been just short of a month.”

Wait, a month? Around the same time I was taken? Shit. I had no idea.

“You’re not insane. You’ve been with him all this time, alone in that house. Things happen.”

“I guess, yeah. I don’t know what’s going to happen with us, but I like it so far. Anyway, I should go in case they have the phones tapped, but we’ll speak again soon. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She hangs up, and I drop the phone on my bed. She’s really okay. Dante wasn’t lying.

I’m glad one of us may get their happiness. I don’t think that’s ever in the cards for me. But even still, with everything Dom has done, I want to hear him out. I think I need that closure, even if forgiving him might not be something I can do.

* * *

I arrive at Vixen promptly at seven, but I can’t seem to make myself get out of the rental car. Remaining in the parking lot seems safer than what awaits inside.

It’s not that I’m afraid of him. It’s more that I fear for my heart and what he can do to it.

There’s so much hidden beneath our wounds, so much shrouded by agony, yet still it’s hard not to stare at it, to feel it in my bones.

The old Dom and Chiara are within the walls of our demise, waiting to find their freedom, waiting for what could’ve been.

Running my fingers through my pin-straight hair, I flip open the car mirror and look at my face. The dark brown shadows do a great job at concealing the puffy eyelids, but I still don’t look like myself.

Closing the mirror, I exit the car and shut the door. My black stilettos click against the pavement as I near the club entrance. The parking area is near empty, except for a few cars. I doubt the place is even open at this time. Most dance clubs don’t start until at least nine.

As I approach, a tall, fit man with a shaved head and black t-shirt greets me with a smile.

“Are you Chiara?” he asks as he palms the door handle, pushing it open.

“Yes, I am.”

“Go right in, ma’am.”

The entryway greets me, and I thank him before stepping inside. The door shuts as my eyes adjust to the narrow, empty hallway. There’s a window to my left with a sign that reads “coat check,” but no one is there.

I keep walking, not sure where he is.

“Hey,” he greets me from behind.

I gasp, my body hyperaware to the undercurrent of his power. His energy is all around me, his deep, raspy voice flipping my stomach erratically.

My heart races as I remain still, unable to look back, afraid I’ll want to jump into his arms and feel them around me, keeping all the bad away.

But he was the one who was bad. He’s the one who hurt me when I never thought he could.

---