Page 5 of The Devil's Secret

It has to be them. Dante has told me she’s their favorite, and I’d bet a bullet that’s who she fears. Those fucking bastards taint everything they touch. But I won’t allow them to hurt her. Not anymore.

“Hey.” I tip up her chin with a finger. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I lie. “But whoever they are, tell me where I can find them, and you’ll never have to be afraid of them again.”

She exhales weakly, her eyes on me again, her chin trembling, then she smiles, fighting the very pain she just revealed. “I’m sorry. Ignore me.” She sighs in a huff. “I’m being stupid. But I should go though. I’m up on the stage soon.”

Reluctantly, I drop my hand away, realizing she won’t tell a complete stranger the truth. I have to get to know her better and gain her trust. It’s the only way I can help. “Are you gonna give me your name before you leave me forever?” I tease, hoping for a genuine smile this time.

“I guess I can. Not like it’s a secret.” She laughs and it’s beautiful. “I’m Joelle. You?”

“I’m En—”

Fuck.

I want her to know me. I don’t want to give her some fake-ass name, but I’ve got no choice.

“You’re En?” She slants her face.

“Nah, I’m Patrick. Enrico is my dad.” I hope she buys it.

“Well, Patrick. I do have to go. It was nice meeting you.”

Looking around, I don’t see anyone directly around us. I stretch out my hand discreetly with the cash in it. “Take it.”

She finally does, and when she sees the amount, her eyes bug out. “Ahh, that’s like two grand.”

“Is it?” My lips jerk, knowing it probably is. I didn’t count it.

“Are you sure that’s all for me?”

“It is. And you’re taking every penny. Keep it somewheretheycan’t find it.”

Her lower lip is caught in her mouth, and I can tell she’s not sure if she should take the cash, doubting that I’m not one of them.

“I won’t tell them,” I reassure. Knowing the Bianchis, they probably steal the tips from the women.

“Thank you,” she finally says, subtly sliding her hand to mine and grabbing the money.

“When can I see you again?” I know I want to, and not just because I want to find out what the Bianchis are doing to her, but also ’cause I kinda like being around her. She intrigues me.

“Well, you can see me every night on stage.” That inauthentic grin is back.

“That’s not what I meant. I want to hang out, away from this place, like over coffee or…dinner?”

“I can’t.” The reply is quick. Sharp. And her gaze falls to the ground.

“Fine, fine.” I roll my eyes, an amused smirk slipping on my face. “You play a hard bargain. Lunch, then?”

She looks up from below her dark brows, fighting a laugh.

The need to touch her, let my hand fall to her face, to tell her I can fix whatever or whoever’s harming her, takes hold of me. That brokenness within her eyes, I want to consume it, like a roaring flame. Extinguish it until it no longer bleeds into her soul.

“Why would you want to see me anyway?” She bows her head. “I’m no one.”

“Hey…” In a mere blink, my body goes flush against hers, a finger tilting her chin up until she can’t do anything else but look into my eyes. “Who the hell told you that? You’re far from no one.” Her throat trembles with emotion and it breaks my damn heart. “I may not know you, but I can tell you’re special.” I let my thumb trail the base of her jaw. “So I don’t want to hear that shit coming out of your mouth again. Got it?”

She nods into my hand, her expression muddied with an ache. “You have to know,” she goes on. “I can’t see you outside of this place, even if I wanted to.” She pauses, and my pulse drums in my neck. “And I kinda want to.”

My nostrils flare. “Are you being held prisoner?”

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