Page 18 of The Devil's Chaos

“Who?” I dared to ask.

“Just some douchebag from The Brotherhood.”

‘Archer King,’I said in my head.

I already knew the minute he said The Brotherhood that the man set to inherit his father’s empire, and the one my brother constantly bitched about would be who he would have me follow.

I pulled my phone from my ear and opened his text message. Archer had dark hair and the greenest eyes, similar to mine, and tattoos covering him from head to toe. He was actually pretty hot. But my thoughts immediately went back to my stalker.

“His name is Archer King. I need you to go to the party, get everyone high, and watch what he is doing and who he is with. I want you to text me with everything he and his little bitch-ass friends are doing. If they go and take a piss, you follow. If they scratch their nuts, I want to know if it was the left or right. Got it?”

“Since when do you want me involved in the family business?”

“I’m sorry, I think you must have me confused with some chode who allows women to talk back or ask questions. Do I need to hit you again and knock some fucking sense into you?” he growled.

My head was pounding, and I wasn’t in the mood to listen to his constant, whiny voice. I had so much on my mind; for somereason, the filter from my brain to my mouth decided now was the best time to stop working.

“If you want to lose a hand in the process, by all means.”

Fuck.

I put my fist in my mouth and dramatically spun as my heart thudded in my chest.

“Are you threatening me, Haven?”

“Not a threat, but a promise. You’re lucky I didn’t go running to our father and show him how you bruised his favorite bargaining tool,” I challenged, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jesus, Haven. Get it together. Why the fuck can’t I keep my mouth shut?

There was a moment of tense silence on the other end before Alex spoke again, his voice dangerously low. The voice he used when exercising extreme restraint to control his emotions didn’t happen often, but when it did, something terrible was about to happen.

I held my breath and bit my lip to stop myself from saying something snarky back, knowing that he could make things so much worse for me if I didn't stop now.

“The party starts at sundown. Dress like the slut you are, and keep in touch.”

The phone call ended, and I let out the breath that had been stagnant in my chest, doing my best to fill my lungs.

My mouth really would be my cause of death one day.

At least then, my nightmare of a life would finally be over.

10

TEN

HAVEN

As the last rays of sunlight kissed the horizon, I parked my car in the small clearing near the quarry. The lot was full of luxury cars and sleek motorcycles. Before leaving my car, I checked my makeup in the visor mirror. It took me some time to conceal the bruises, but they were practically invisible before I left my apartment—just a faint shadow left behind. Inhaling deeply to calm my nerves, I exited the car and smoothed down my skirt anxiously. I chose to wear a black leather crop top that exposed my midriff and a loose white skirt that fell to my thighs. My boots were tall, black, and laced up to my shins, with black socks peeking over the top. If this was what dressing like a “slut” looked like, then I suppose I fit the stereotype. As I joined the crowd of people making their way into the forest, I realized I blended in perfectly with the groups of half-naked girls hanging onto each other's arms, chatting and laughing loudly as we walked through the dense trees.

Fucking rich kids.

Eventually, we reached the open space of the quarry, where music blared and pulsed through my body as I pushed past the dancing bodies on the dance floor. Fairy lights above twinkledand swirled, casting playful patterns across everyone's faces. The air was thick with excitement and anticipation, mixed with the aromatic scents of alcohol, cigarettes, and a heavy smell of weed. I searched the crowd for my target, eyes scanning each face intently. And then, I spotted him.

Archer King.

Sitting near the crackling bonfire, he wrapped his arms around a dark-haired girl. She was beautiful, but how he stared at her made it seem like he was the hunter, and she was his prey. I went to the makeshift bar to get a better view of them.

“Hey, pretty lady. I haven’t seen you at our parties before.”

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