Page 20 of Heart of a Devil

If only it were that simple. I like Seb. Our conversation tonight was, in many ways, more intimate than the sex that followed. There’s a danger that I could grow to feel more than “like” toward him, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t give my heart to another man only to see him trample all over it like my ex-husband did.

Marshall—the safe, boring accountant—was actually a gambling addict who was also screwing half the croupiers in Atlantic City. I escaped that one with a crack in my heart and a bigger dent in my savings. But with clarity of hindsight, I realized that he wasn’t right for me anyway. He certainly never fulfilled me the way Seb does. Gloria’s had more orgasms with Seb already than I did in two years with Marshall.

No, I can’t risk falling in love again. I am free of Carlos, free of marriage, free to be myself. I need to be careful, because a man like Sebastian Donovan could jeopardize all of that. A man who’s been engaged five times and is, according to Sam, incapable of committing to a faithful long-term relationship. Casual I can do—more than that? No way.

He’s a failed serial monogamist, and I’ve made it clear to him that I’m not interested in that. I’m confused as to why he doesn’t seem to want to accept that, and the only answer I can come up with is, yet again, that I’m a challenge. It’s all a bit of a headfuck, and I’m glad of the distraction when my phone rings.

I smile when I see that it is an incoming video call from my cousin Alejandro. Alejandro might be the head of the Montoya empire, but he will always be my surrogate big brother, the handsome boy all my friends had a crush on, and the only person I ever considered telling about Carlos. He is also, right now, rocking two super-cute babies to sleep in little bouncy chairs in his office.

I laugh out loud when I see him, his million-dollar suit disheveled, his normally perfectly groomed hair askew. “The great Alejandro Montoya, defeated by a pair of one-year-olds.”

He pulls a face. “These are no ordinary one-year-olds, prima. These are pure devils. They must get it from my wife’s side.”

“Claro esta! Except I hear your wife is an angel and you are a direct descendant of el Diablo himself, my friend. Now let me see them properly please.” He smiles and brings the camera closer to the two sleeping boys, Dario and Tomas. I sigh at their chubby cheeks and unruly hair. “Beautiful. Now, why are you calling me so late?”

“It’s not even five in the afternoon here, Lauren. And I needed to let you know that there’s been an incident.”

“An incident? That could mean anything from a missing nuclear warhead to Mamá losing her car keys again.”

“It does involve your mamá—but don’t worry, she’s fine.”

I’m glad he added that quickly. My heart lurched when he mentioned her. Neither of my parents is exactly younger anymore, and I’ve reached the age where late-night phone calls from home carry a certain weight. “Okay, good. So what’s the problem, and why does it involve me?”

“There’s been a cybersecurity breach. You know Jax normally has us nailed down and safe, but your mamá… Well, your mom decided to go rogue.”

Jax is Alejandro’s right-hand man, best friend, and expert on all things tech related. It’s hard to imagine how Mamá managed to sneak anything past him.

“She got all fired up by some silver surfers’ course she attended with your tía Maria,” he continues. “And she went and bought herself a brand-new laptop without telling anyone. She didn’t even have a basic commercial security program on there, never mind one good enough for us.” I can hear the frustration in his voice, but I have to smile.

My mamá, the rebel—words I never thought would go together. “So what’s the issue, cousin? Has she been approached by a playboy billionaire, because I hear that can be a pretty wild ride.”

He pauses, looks at the babies, and smiles when he sees they are asleep. It’s nice to see this master of the universe so content with his home life, and I vow that I will make the effort to meet his wife, Alana, very soon. He turns his attention back to me, and I notice he has more stubble than usual. Still disgustingly handsome though, damn him—he always had longer eyelashes than me, and my fifteen-year-old self still hasn’t quite forgiven him.

“It’s serious, Lauren. She had everything on there—everything. Names, addresses, dates of birth. Even security codes for our homes, bank details, credit cards, the lot. She said she was trying to go paperless.”

This time I can’t hold the laughter in, and he glares at me all the way from California. “It’s not funny. You’ve kept your distance, and I’ve respected that, but your details were on there as well. Whoever this hacker is, they’re good—both Jax and a cyber specialist we know in New York say so. They used her email and accounts to sneak into ours. We barely noticed they were there to start with, they were so subtle. Chunks of money here and there, car rentals, credit cards being opened in my name—used to rack up huge charges on sex chat lines, for fuck’s sake. Then it took a more sinister turn. My dad answered the door to a funeral director who came to collect his body. The address of the center for abused women and children that Alana runs was leaked to clients’ former partners, and we had to send a small army in to keep them safe from the asshole parade. And today, I received a notification from a fake news site—a damn convincing one—that said an American citizen named Lauren Hayes was killed in a terror attack in London. I knew logically itwasn’t true, because there’s been no terror attack, but just for a moment, Lauren…”

“Alejandro, all of that is awful—I’m especially sorry about the women’s shelter. But I’m safe and well, I promise you. Have you found out who’s behind it? Have you caught them?”

He leans forward and presses a few buttons on his keyboard. “Almost. Do you remember Rafe Torres?”

I shiver slightly at the name and the memory it dredges up. “Big guy. Tattoos. Lived permanently up Uncle Carlos’s butt crack.”

He nods. “Yeah. Right up until we killed him. Anyway, turns out he has a kid—Diego. Not a muscle man like his dad, actually has brains and was studying computer design at Columbia until he got caught falsifying test papers. He’s twenty-nine now, old enough to know better, but the brat lives in Rome as part of some kind of cyber collective. Sounds like an excuse to live in a squat and fuck people’s lives up long-distance to me. We sent a team, but he was already gone. Jax has been tracking him and thinks it’s possible he’s on his way to London. Which, in case you hadn’t noticed, is where you live. Any chance at all I can persuade you to fly home to LA for a while?”

“Nope. I know you have my best interests at heart, Alejandro, and I will be forever grateful to you for what you and Jax did for me in Florida, but I have a life here. I can’t run home with my tail between my legs at the first hint of trouble.” I see him struggle with my refusal and know that this is hard for him—Alejandro Montoya is not a man who hears the word no very often, plus he loves me very much. We were close growing up and have remained so over the years, as much as our lifestyles allow.

“Can I send someone to keep an eye on you, then? Someone I trust?”

“I know what you mean by ‘keep an eye on me,’ and it involves twenty-four-hour surveillance and some strange guygoing into the ladies’ room with me. It’s a hard pass, I’m afraid. But I’m not stupid, and I’m not dismissing this, I promise you. If you’re worried, then I should be too. I just want to handle it my own way, all right? If I struggle, you’ll be the first to hear, but I think I’ll be okay. I know some people.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You know some people? You want to send me their names, I’ll run some checks? Or… Hmmm, you have that look in your eyes, cousin. Have you been running checks yourself? The up-close-and-personal kind?”

“That would be telling,” I reply, grinning at him before we say our goodbyes. I know full well that he’ll have it all figured out in hours. Jax will look into my new job, and then they’ll come across Samantha, and that trail will inevitably lead them to Archangel. There’ll be a fat dossier on everything from what their current contracts are through to what Seb likes for breakfast by the time they’re finished.

I sigh and sip more of my wine. I love my cousin and the rest of my family, but it’s exactly this kind of bullshit that I was so desperate to get away from. Enemies around every corner, constant threats, the lies and the subterfuge, the never-ending need to have one eye looking over your shoulder. It’s what I was born into, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I stare down at the moonlight reflecting off the water and wonder if I’ll ever have a simple life. Nah, probably not, I decide, standing up to go back inside—and who would want that anyway?

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