Page 5 of The Devil's Chaos

I offered him a small smile before slipping into the hallway and shutting the door behind me. Leaning against the cool wall, I took a deep breath to steady myself before returning to my dressing room. Once inside, I closed the door, thankful that the music was muted, and I had a bit of quiet—even if only for a moment. Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, I studied my reflection. My appearance was that of a doll: perfectly painted and dressed up for my father’s gain. So that he could parade me around to impress wealthy businessmen and gain access to every corner of New York City; he wouldn’t stop until he controlled the entirety of the city. I reapplied my lipstick and rubbed my glitter lotion into my skin, taking my time before I returned to Winston.

I heard a slight cough behind me and quickly turned. A man was sitting in a chair in the corner of my dressing room, watching me with those piercing blue eyes. Eyes that I had been distracted by when I was dancing. It was the same man from the VIP section, the one that sat alone in the corner…watching me, and I had watched him. I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off of him out there. But now he was here, in my dressing room, staring at me like I was going to be his last meal.

“Jesus Christ!” I cried out in shock and stumbled backward, leaning against my vanity table for support. "What the fuck are you doing in my dressing room?”

The man remained silent as he slowly stood up and approached me. My heart raced in my chest as I took in his appearance: tall, towering over six feet, well-built—muscular and fit. He was covered in vibrant tattoos on his neck, arms, and hands. His clothing seemed to be hiding even more ink. He wore a tight dark blue T-shirt that showed off his biceps and a leather jacket reminiscent of ones worn by bikers. His jeans hugged hismuscular thighs and were tucked into unlaced brown boots. I met his stare, my breath catching when I stared into his blue eyes—the color of a sky just before a storm.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.”

A dangerously seductive smile spread across his face. “Maybe not, but yet I am,” he replied in a deep, gravelly voice that made my stomach flutter.

Before I could respond, he reached out and gently cupped my cheek with his hand, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I felt like a deer in headlights, frozen where I stood, captivated by how his hand felt on my skin and the blue of his eyes.

“Who the hell are you, and what do you want?” I demanded, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

Goddamn, his eyes were amazing.

The man smiled, his expression so calm and unreadable it unnerved me.

His answer was short and straightforward. No context, just one single word.

“You.”

“Ex—excuse me?” I stuttered, swallowing hard.

“What is the daughter of the kingpin of The Collectors doing dancing in a strip club?”

“That’s none of your business,” I snapped.

“My business is your father, so you’ve become my business,” he smirked, leaning in closer, his smell a spicy cocktail of leather, tobacco, and sandalwood. “So, tell me, little lamb. Do you get paid for fucking your father’s business associates?”

His question caught me off guard but ignited a fire inside me, burning angrily to the surface. “How dare you?” I glared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. Who the hell was this guy, and why was he asking me these questions?

“Ah, so you fuck them for fun then?”

“Fun?” I scoffed, feeling my temper flare. “I do it for survival.”

He chuckled, his blue eyes never leaving mine.

“I don’t owe you any explanations,” I continued angrily. “You don’t know anything about me or my life.”

“Oh, I know more than you think, Haven Benson,” he said softly, his voice seductive.

“I think you should leave before I yell for help. Trust me, you don’t want my father or brother finding you in here.”

“Why is that?” he questioned calmly.

“They will kill you.”

“Is that so?” he raised an eyebrow at me, a devilish smirk playing on his lips.

“Yes. My father’s reputation alone should have you running with your tail between your legs.”

“I know all about your father’s reputation. And I don’t run with my tail between my legs. Ever.”

“So, you are aware that you are gambling with your life.”

He laughed a deep, hearty sound that made my stomach flutter. “Nothing worth doing is without risk, after all,” he replied, his lips curling into that devilish grin.

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