Page 11 of The Devil's Pawn

“Yep.” I shrug. “The owner is old and has his rules. Something about a married man being better suited to take care of the house. If I want his place, I have less than a week to find a fake wife who can live with me for three months and pretend to be mine.” I turn right, nearing my house. “I kind of told him I was already engaged and the wedding is in two weeks.”

Her mouth falls open.

“Now you see the problem?” I grin.

She nods with a nervous laugh. “A little.”

“He wants to see the marriage certificate once it’s finalized,” I explain further. “And after he’s happy that I’m married for three months, he’ll sign the contract for the property.”

I fucking hope she buys this shit, or I’m going to have to do what Dom will be doing to Chiara tonight: lock her away in a room until she accepts her new world.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Her eyes narrow.

Yes. You.

“Not yet. It’s a hard ask, even with all the money I’d offer her in return.”

And the pot has been sweetened.

“Money?” Her tone rises with excitement. “How much money?”

“I think a million tax-free would be fair. What do you think?”

Her brows shoot up. “I’ll do it!”

“What?”

I turn my head to her as I park the car in my driveway.

“Are you serious? You should really think about it,” I push, but internally I’m grinning like a bastard, knowing I have her where I want her.

“I don’t need to think about it.”

She reaches for my arm, clinging to my bicep with all the desperation slinking in her eyes. I feel it and hate that I do.

I’d let you fly away if I could, little bird, but I can’t. You’re mine now.

Will she be this desperate to escape me when she learns of her new fate?

It shouldn’t matter to me. None of it matters. Not her pain, and not what I have to do. It’s all irrelevant. The only thing that I care about is avenging the deaths of my family.

“Look…” She drops her arm away from me. “I don't have anywhere to go. If I go home, I'm afraid my mother will send me to the altar the next hour. And my fiancé? He’s a real asshole. I'm scared of what he'll do once he gets his hands on me. So even if you’re some crazy psycho killer…” She laughs. “That’s okay. I was considering offing myself tonight, so you’d be saving me the trouble.”

Those words slam right into the center of my chest.

Fuck. This woman.

“Raquel….”

I lift up my hand, my fingers inching toward the sharp contours of her face. My palm finds her cheek, and I love how well it fits.

“Don’t say that,” I whisper, my thumb feathering softly over her skin.

She blinks the tears away, but they can’t hide from me. I see them. I feel them rotting through the marrow of my bones. I hate that I feel sorry for her, but I can’t block it out. The sensation overcomes me. She’s such a good person; it kills me to see that amount of pain in her eyes.

“I’m sorry for my sob story.” Her voice cracks, dripping with emotion. “Maybe I was meant to meet you. Maybe you’re my one chance to have a fresh start, somewhere they can’t find me.”

I wish that was true.

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