Page 18 of Sin and Salvation

I couldn’t speak. The lump in my throat had grown too large.

To call the emotion between the two factionshatredwould be an understatement.

Because I was almost always kept at Maxime’s side, I’d seen him at his best—the face he showed to the rest of Concordia—and at his worst.

There were many nights when he’d paced back and forth across his office like a demon possessed, face a deep plum, veins standing out in his forehead as he screamed curses at the Black Hearts.

These nights usually came when he failed to buy what he considered a lucrative property, no matter how much he offered, or on the rare occasion when company shipments went ‘missing’ on the other side of Concordia.

More than once, I’d heard him swear he’d kill Crow if it was the last thing he did. That he would raze their half of the city to ash if he couldn’t have it.

And most of those nights ended with him turning to me, panting for breath, and ordering me to strip and bend over the desk.

Then he’d unzip, and…

I closed my eyes, hands shaking, and tried to collect myself. I could not go back to Maxime.

“I have no loyalty to Giraud.” My voice came out stronger than I expected it to, and I took comfort from that. “I was merely an assistant in his company.”

“Ah. Merely an assistant… one who was at Giraud’s side for years. This isn’t the only picture I’ve found of you, Venus.” Zane’s cool gaze made me feel like he was looking right through me as he flipped to another photo—Maxime unveiling a new public library, with me at his side clutching a folio and smiling politely for the cameras.

I managed to wave a hand, as though he were being silly, although I cursed the fact that Maxime had always kept me within arm’s reach.

I had been his battery, my latent energy charging his demonic power beyond its natural aptitude—almost on a level with an Alpha demon. On his good days, Maxime often told me I was indispensable, followed by a gift of expensive shoes or jewelry.

He hadn’t needed to give anything to me at all. Thanks to my brother’s gambling debts, Maxime owned me, body and soul.

And because I was irreplaceably valuable to him—the succubi of the House of Lust had been a dying bloodline for generations—I was never permitted to leave his sight, or I was kept in an apartment locked from the outside and guarded by one of his men.

“I don’t see why my prior employment should matter.” By the Devil, I wished I had something to drink. My mouth was painfully dry now. “I would never pass anything along to him. Besides, what makes you think he’d care about the word of a stripper?”

Mercifully, Zane put away his phone, but his gaze never left my face. “You were noted in one article as not only being his assistant, but his sole confidante.”

At that, I nearly spluttered laughter.

I remembered that article very well. It was a hit piece by Julie Zarro, a House of Envy journalist who’d grown up on the rougher side of Concordia and despised Maxime, even though she too would sell her soul to climb the social ladder.

In the article, accusing Maxime of many things that were true, and some that were not, she’d tried to smear me as well. Although my only crime was being near Maxime at all times—Julie had never bothered to ask me why, just assumed I was fully on his side—she’d decided I was complicit in his greed.

Julie had mysteriously lost her job the day after running the article, and the paper she’d worked for had mysteriously received a hefty donation that same week.

But Maxime had still raged that night. He’d thrown the cup of tea I’d brought to his office, then he’d thrown the newspaper, and sneered, “You?My confidante?” with the sort of scorn he reserved for the Black Hearts.

That had been one of the first steps towards my awakening that I was not a sentient being to him. I was merely an object, one he prized, but one he regarded as he might regard a pair of fine cufflinks.

“He never confided anything in me,” I told Zane with blunt honesty. “I fetched him beverages and sorted his files and scheduled his meetings. And no, before you ask, working for him was no cakewalk. It was as close as you could come to true Hell on Earth.”

I hadn’t meant to let the bitterness slip into my tone, but when Zane heard it, his raptor-like stare softened. “No? What was it like, then?”

I opened my mouth, wanting to spill everything to someone who did not know me, and therefore could not judge… but he was one of the Black Hearts. I had to remember that no matter how they made me feel—the first true physical lust I’d ever experienced—I’d spent years thinking of them as the enemy.

Anything I told him could be turned around and used against me if they thought I knew Maxime’s secrets.

Or worse—if they thought he cared for me, and might be inclined to rescue me.

But the only reason Maxime would come would be to collect his precious power battery. They could rip out all my nails and skin me alive, and the only thing he would care about was whether my powers were still intact and functional.

“Imagine working for a very demanding boss who doesn’t tell you the rules,” I said dryly, and Zane chuckled. “But in this case… breaking the rules was much worse. You might end up with hot coffee thrown in your face, if you were lucky.”

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