Page 41 of The Devil's Secret

“Was any of it real? Just tell me the truth.” The question comes as a whisper, tasting bitter on my tongue, but I need to know.

She swipes a finger under her eye, her face straining as her gaze holds mine. “It was all real,” she breathes. “Every moment. Every second. Wewerereal, Enzo.”

“Then why?” I rush over, palms cradling her face as I stare deeply. “Why the fuck were you kissing him?”

Her eyes go downcast, her lips clasp shut, tears drifting down her cheeks.

“Still won’t tell me, huh?” I drop my hands, moving toward the door. “I’m leaving. You’re gonna stay here until I can trust you not to try and run away. Not that you can.” I shrug a shoulder. “There are cameras all over my property, including this room, and my men will be instructed to restrain you if you get out of hand.”

She flashes me a gaze filled with the aching of her heart, and I hate that I’m giving her more of it.

“I’ll be back later with some food.”

Hopefully when I come back, she’s in a more cooperative mood.

“Shove that food down your throat!”

Or maybe not.

I shake my head with a laugh as I lock the door behind me. I never had a woman beg to leave me before. I’m going to savor every damn second of that fight inside her, up until the moment I send her away.

Retrieving my cell out of my pocket, I fire the app I use to see the live feeds from my home. My brothers and I all have cameras installed in every single square inch of our places. Right now, seeing Joelle running for the window to try and pry it open is making me damn happy I have them.

CHAPTERTWELVE

JOELLE

How doI always manage to get myself stuck in these shitty situations? I don’t know how long it’s been since he left. Hours definitely, if the morning light piercing from the dark gray curtains is any indication.

I’m tired as hell, but not tired enough to fall asleep while trapped here in this damn room. I couldn’t even close my eyes, the adrenaline keeping me awake this whole time. I tried to escape through the two large windows, but it was no use, they were shut with a key. Who the hell has locks on their windows?

No one normal, that’s for sure.

When I think back on everything he said, how he spilled his feelings so freely, God, it made me want to tell him everything. And if it wasn’t for my boy, I would’ve. If he’s even still alive.

By now, Faro probably already knows I’ve been caught, considering he has cameras everywhere, including the club, but I hope he realizes I’d never talk for Robby’s sake.

Once I figure out how to get the hell out of here, I can look for my son. Maybe I can bribe one of Faro’s men into telling me where Robby is? What do I have to offer them, though? Nothing but my body. But I’d give that up willingly. What’s one more man? At least it’d have a purpose. I feel dirty at the thought, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my son.Nothing.

I wrap my arms around my knees, tucking my head down, recalling all those good memories from when Enzo would come and see me at the club. I miss us—the way we were together. My feelings for him are still there, buried under piles of ash and dust. With only a slight flick of a hand, it’ll all uncover, reminding me of the days I thought I finally had someone I could trust. But that was all a lie. The truth is, there’s too much standing between us to find happiness in each other’s arms.

Even if he weren’t a danger to Robby and me, and even if he could overlook that I’m a killer just like him, I don’t think a man like that would choose to be with a whore.

The clicking on the doorknob jars me from my thoughts.

Enzo struts in, fully put together, donning a dark navy suit, straining at every single hard spec of muscle on his body as though tailor made for him alone.

There’s a large paper bag in his hand and I almost want to ask what’s inside, but don’t want to act like I care.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me what I brought?” A lazy smirk crawls up his lips as he runs a hand through his combed hair, tousling it a bit.

“Not really.” I turn my gaze to the wall, but side-eye him as he treads over to me, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Fine, tell me,” I huff out in defeat.

“You’re looking at the bag like I’ve got a torture device with your name on it inside.”

I pop a brow. “Wouldn’t shock me if you did.”

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