Page 12 of The Devil's Pawn

“I’ll help you. I promise.” My lips betray her even while my eyes pretend that I’m a good man.

She melts into my touch, her eyelids drifting closed as her breathing evens.

“If you’re serious about this, then I’ll get you whatever you need to start a new life once your three-month commitment is up,” I add. “I’ll hand you a new identity, a passport, and you can pick wherever the hell you want to go. No one will stop you.”

I’m such a bastard.

“You’d do that?” Her face lights up, those eyes glistening.

“I’d do that. No questions.”

There’s so much hope on her face, and it won’t be pretty when she realizes none of this is real.

“Thank you!” she cries, throwing herself at me and wrapping her arms around my neck, her small sobs denting the armor I’ve built around my heart to keep her out of it.

Stop caring about her. She’s nothing.

But I can’t seem to.

My arms go around her, tugging her even closer, wanting to protect her and not understanding why.

She’s the daughter of my enemy. Why do I care what happens to her? Why do her tears make me want to rip out Carlito’s heart and feed it to her father?

CHAPTERFOUR

RAQUEL

Gettinginto his car was a risk I was willing to take. What else did I have to lose? My life was already a living hell. Before today, I’d never have dreamed of getting into a car with a man I’d only just met.

But things have changed drastically.

When I thought the wedding was six months away, it still seemed like enough time to do something, but three months is nothing. It’ll be here before I know it.

Whoever Dante is, I know one thing: he has money, and a lot of it. From the moment I saw his car, I knew he had to be rich. McLarens aren’t cheap, and his costs a good two million. I know a thing or two about cars. It’s my side passion. I love luxury cars, especially sports cars.

Once we got to the house, I knew my suspicions were correct. His house is not merely a house, but a sprawling white mansion covering acres of land.

We sit on his cream suede sofa, my toes curling over the soft, shaggy white rug. An electric fireplace is in front of me, and a raindrop-style crystal chandelier hangs overhead. My palms surround a warm mug of coffee while he sips on his.

Considering the daybreak has come, I welcome the caffeine permeating through my pores. But honestly, I’m no longer tired. Not like I was when I got home from the wedding. It must be the anxiety spinning me out of control.

“What exactly do you do?” I ask as he takes another sip from his mug before placing it down on a square glass table before us.

As soon as I walked in, I noticed all the bodyguards stationed around the premises. Each one is tall, built, and scary enough to give me the impression that they’d kill anyone who dared walk inside uninvited.

Why would he need them?

“I run some companies,” he throws in coolly.

“They must do well,” I murmur, glancing up at the cathedral ceiling and the black-and-white contemporary artwork perched on the walls.

“They do okay.” He grins, telling me they do way more than that. “And what about you?”

“I’m a second-year resident at a hospital in the general surgery program.” My eyes are back on his. “I have three more years to go.”

“Whoa. So you’re not only beauty, but brains too? Damn.”

My cheeks burn from the compliment. I’m not used to the praise. My parents were never the type to hand compliments out.

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