Page 16 of Devil Mine

It’s because of her. She distracted me again, pulling my focus away from what’s important.

From Adriana.

And still the madness finds a way to pierce through the rage. I round on Arturo. “What’s her name? Noble’s daughter?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“Find out,” I order. “And find out where she’s going to be the next few weeks. This isn’t over.”

???

Chapter Six

Tess

Igrab a champagne flute off a passing tray and down it. When the waiter moves to walk away, I stop him.

“Not so fast,” I say, grabbing a fresh glass. “I’m going to need this.”

He gives me a look that’s half-impressed, half-sympathetic and walks away.

“Everything alright, darling?” My mother asks, coming to stand beside me on the perimeter of the dance floor.

“Just peachy,” I answer, taking a sip and enjoying the way the crisp bubbles burn a delicious path down my throat.

I spent the afternoon getting my makeup done, getting my hair coiffed and teased in every direction, and contorting my body to fit in this tight dress so I didn’t have time to eat. A glass and a half in and I already feel a slight buzz coming on.

It’s exactly what I need to get through tonight. The charity gala being held at the Natural History Museum is for a good cause — providing continued housing and job assistance for the homeless — but that’s not what’s troubling me.

This event is attended by the who’s who of London society and beyond. Anyone with an ounce of power in England will be here tonight.

A.K.A. it's the perfect place for my father to identify potential husbands for me.

Gag.

Anxiety swirls in my gut at the thought and leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. I take another large sip and hope that alcohol will give me the strength I need to just grin and bear it.

My father is here somewhere, no don’t doubt investigating eligible bachelors he can foist on me. And he’s doing so with his arm cushioned in a custom-made Christian Door sling.

When he stumbled home that night three weeks ago, he explained that he was hit by a bicycle as he was crossing the street and that the impact had thrown him. According to him, he’d rolled a few times which explained the injuries to his shoulder and elbow and he’d landed face down on the pavement which explained the stitched-up cuts on his face.

He lied, and he made others lie for him.

No one at the office mentioned a thing. When I’d asked Eileen if she’d seen my father after he was injured, she’d blanched and shaken her head, avoiding eye contact before skittering away.

The upside of him getting assaulted is it distracted him. He hasn’t brought up marriage since, although I’m not naive enough to think he’s forgotten about his decision. He’s probably just been too preoccupied trying to figure out how he’s going to repay his twenty million pound debt and the associated interest he owes.

My stomach flips thinking about crossing paths with that monster again.

The devil.

It’s a different sensation than the sour feeling from earlier. More…anticipatory.

I’ve been inflamed by what I witnessed and completely unable to move past it. The faceless man shows up in my dreams, dark and terrifying, his hands outstretched as if to grab me. I wake up breathless, heart thundering, covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

I’ve even convinced myself that he’s coming for me.

I know I’m being irrational. I have nothing to do with any of this. My father dug his grave and if he doesn’t pay, the devil will bury him in it. That’s it.

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