Page 77 of The Devil's Pawn

“Yeah. See you soon.”

I hang up and send her the address, then erase the text before getting to my feet. Returning to the kitchen, I find Janet with a mug in her hands and the smell of coffee drifting in the air.

“Are you okay?” Her brows furrow as her pale blue eyes assess me. “You look like you were crying.”

“I’m fine.” I brush a hand over my face, leaving her cell on the counter. “My mother can be difficult.”

“Ah,” she laughs. “One of those, huh? Sounds like mine. She’s still alive and driving me crazy any chance she gets.”

“Sounds like they’re related,” I snicker as I head for the freshly brewed coffee, grab a mug from the cabinet overhead, and pour some.

“Maybe they could become friends and leave us alone.”

“Ha. I wish.” I roll my eyes at her playfully as I find the creamer and sugar.

“Me too, honey. Me too.”

She gets off the chair, advancing toward the sink to wash her now-empty cup.

“I’ll see you later for dinner, okay?” Her hand falls to my shoulder.

“Yeah.” I return a smile. “Thanks again for letting me use your phone.”

“Anytime.” She moves over to the table and grabs her handbag, waving goodbye before she goes.

As soon as the door clicks to a close, that gnawing in the middle of my gut is back. The hurt Dante left inside pours into my heart. I weep silently into my hands, the tears like drops of acid, burning scars across my palms.

After long minutes of drowning in heartache, I force myself to finish my coffee in slow sips, knowing that in less than one hour, nothing will be the same.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

RAQUEL

The hour arrives quickly,and the fear of my escape grows with every step I take toward the front door.

I’ve come up with a reason to go outside. I don’t think Dante’s men will refuse me. If they do, I’m screwed. Everyone will be. My mom will not let it stand. I can already hear her calling the family and arranging an army to come get me, no matter what she said.

If her foot soldiers don’t see me up front when I’m supposed to be, they’ll find a way to get me, even if it involves bullets. My mother might have promised to keep the guns at home, but I know her. She’ll make sure every man is strapped. I have a feeling Dante’s men won’t let me go that easily, either.

Dante.

His name alone brings a lash of pain into my chest. I’m going to miss him. Miss what we had—or what we could’ve had. I really liked him, and if I’m being honest, it was starting to feel like a little more than that.

Tears sweep over my gaze as I exit the kitchen, but I rapidly brush them all away. He doesn’t deserve them. Whoever he is, he isn’t who I thought he was.

Dante was a fabricated illusion, tempting me with lies. I see it all now. If Mom is right—and I have every reason to believe she is—then the moment we met at the bar, he knew who I was and he knew what he was doing. Everything must’ve been part of his well-constructed deception.

But why? How could he do that to me? I’m not part of any of this. I don’t deserve to be caught up in the war between my family and his. If I ever get the chance to look him in the eyes, I will demand to know how he could do this to me.

Despair and anger pulse within every one of my heartbeats, radiating down into my bones and lacing with my grief.

I hate him.

I wish I’d never met him.

I’ll make him pay for this. Somehow.

I march toward the front door, with two guards on each side.

---