Page 13 of The Devil Can Be Kind

I climbed down from my seat and walked back into the house dejectedly.

I turned just before I started up the stairs to my room.

“Jesse,” I called after the retreating man’s form already halfway across the foyer, heading further into the house.

He paused. “What, Bandit?”

“Thank you for helping me…in the car.”

He winked and smiled up at me. “No problem. Saving damsels in distress is kinda my thing. Now get your ass in bed before you get into any more trouble.”

I nodded and did as he suggested, going back to my room.

I immediately stripped off my clothes and crawled under the silk sheets.

Well, that didn’t go to plan.I thought bitterly.

Although my escape attempt had been a colossal failure, it had given me comfort to know that at leastsomeonehere seemed friendly… Perhaps even kind.

I tried to ignore the voice that told me that thatsomeonealso happened to be best friends with my captor.

CHAPTER

THREE

ADALYN

Over the next few days, I didn’t so much as stray from the confines of my room.

To my surprise, no one came to punish me on the first day after my escape attempt and by the second one, Jesse had even come to keep me company. If he had known I was about to be killed, tormented or beaten, he certainly wasn’t showing signs of it. By that afternoon I was feeling considerably better about my chances of being alive the following day and fell asleep without barricading the door like I had the previous night.

The next morning, with the birds chirping and the halls of the mansion silent, I felt the last of my immediate fears die away.

If I was going to be punished for attempting to flee, he would have done it already.

Dons were never the type for delayed gratification anyway…or at least theyrarelywere. Perhaps my warning had held more sway than I had originally thought?

Half wanting to test the theory, half wanting to get the crap away from the monotonous four walls of my room, I decided to bite the bullet and head downstairs, silently praying my confidence had not been misplaced.

Quietly, I managed to retrace the steps I had taken with Jesse when meeting the Don for the first time. Not stopping until I found myself confronted by a familiar vacant hallway with a single door housed at the end of it. The door was now left partially ajar, a sliver of light glinting against the polished tile flooring.

I hesitated at the sight, not sure what my next move was going to be.

I wanted to know what was going on with my ransom but…did I have enough power in this situation to just go sauntering into his office and demand answers?

I was caught between marching down the hall like I owned the damned place and skulking back to my room like the submissive I normally was, when the indistinct sound of voices floated to where I was standing.

Sucking in a quiet breath, I tiptoed the distance between my spot and the door, the voices becoming clearer with each step.

I shoved aside every instinct that screamed at me I was going to get caught—I needed answers.

“You cannot just send them away!” a male scoffed. The voice was unfamiliar and gruff as if with years of experience.

“I can and I will.” Jesse responded cooly. “If they can’t put aside their own personal hatred then they can’t be here. It poses too much of a risk.”

“It is not as if their hatred is unjustified.” another male voice responded.

“Layton.” another said, warning coloring their tone.

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