Page 4 of Devour

And that explains it.I suspected there was a reason he was being extra cruel to her. Maeve is the cousin to the K.O. club owners from Arkansas, who are basically gangsters. The Goodman brothers are influential and it’s crucial I make aconnection if I want to open a casino in their territory. They’re located in Little Rock, and that’s two hours away from where I want a casino in West Memphis.

And their little cousin is here before me, looking like she’s in need of a friend, as her loser ex taunts her with his new woman. I know this type; I’ve dated women like her before: a huntress. She’s one to bleed a man dry and slaughter anyone weaker for sport. A little lamb like Maeve is an easy target for her.

Lucky for Maeve, I’m a wolf.

I’ll swoop in and save this lost lamb and help her find her way. The valet driver retrieves her purse, but I snap my fingers for him to follow me. When we’re a safe distance I whisper, “Make a show of handing her the purse. Address her like freakin’ royalty. Tell her that all arrangements have been made. I want those two about to shit themselves.”

He looks like he’s about to have a nervous breakdown, but I pat him on the shoulder and give him a gentle shove toward Maeve. Crossing my arms, I watch from afar.

“I’m sorry about all that,” she apologizes. “Thank you so much.”

“Yes, madam. And all arrangements have been made,” he tells her in a British accent.

My brows furrow becausewhat the hell? Not sure why he’s doing an accent or where it came from. She tilts her head in confusion at him. A brief look of panic crosses his face. Then he blurts out, “Your fiancé, Mr. Deschamps. He’s taken care of everything.”

What. The. Fuck.Her fiancé?

His voice becomes more confident in his lie as he says, “He’ll wait for you in your suite.” He clicks his heels and marches off.

What just happened? I asked him to deliver a purse and fawn over her. Not to make us betrothed or engaged! Once again, oncea-fucking-gin, I tried to do something nice and it backfired. It’s just not for me. I can’t be the nice guy. Lesson fucking learned.

“Mr. Deschamps?” “Fiancé!” They both shout at the same time.

Maeve tilts her chin up and smiles. “Yes. My fiancé. Mr. Deschamps.”

Clearly, she doesn’t know that’s me. The huntress places her fist on her hip. “No way. That bell boy was clearly confused. You’re not engaged to Nicholas Deschamps.”

Well at least somebody knows who I am. Little miss red lips and high heels thought I was a driver.

The dope shakes his head and looks almost hurt. “I thought you were rooming with your grandma?”

“I’m rooming with my fiancé and it’s none of your business!” She turns around, and thank goodness, doesn’t fall this time.

I rush in the side door and hurry to catch up to her.

“Not you again.” She groans.Ha.That’s a fine way to greet your fiancé. I almost tell her that, but something else is bothering me.

I take her elbow. “Did I do something? I gave you a ride and have been doing nothing but helping you.”

“Helping me? I hired you, and honestly, you’ve been acting kind of weird.” She makes a point of looking down at my hand on her arm.

Point taken.

“You didn’t hire me.” When she looks doubtful, I ask, “Have you paid me?”

She takes her phone out and swipes. “Of course I did. See, here on the app.” Her eyes widen. Taking a giant step back, a look of horror crosses her face. “You’re not…This says my driver left because I never showed. You’re not my driver. Who are you?”

“I tried to explain but you wouldn’t let me.”

“Oh gosh I jumped into a car with a stranger.” She cringes but shakes it off. “Okay. I’m going to go now.” She spins around and hurries away from me. Not sure where she thinks she’s going to go. How she’s going to escape me.

Only going deeper into my world.

Then I see her spin around and hurry back toward me. “Where’s Gram? What’d you do with my grandma?”

“I believe she’s checked in.”

She releases a sound of frustration and hurries over to the desk.

---