Page 83 of Dance With A Devil
And me? I head back toward the building, past the quad, past the kids, past the noise.
A couple more classes and I’ll be back home with the Devils.
Back in their fortress.
Back to my wine, my journals, and my quiet war with the ghosts of my past.
Because there’s more to read.
More to remember.
And I already know… the next page will cut deeper.
Chapter Sixteen
Crew
Acting vulnerable is easy when you’ve been trained to weaponize it.
She sees softness. Emotion. An aching gentleness that draws her in like heat from a candle flame. But she doesn’t realize the wax will melt until it’s already burned her.
Athens. My blood.
She doesn’t know that, of course. Not yet. And when she does, it’ll be too late.
I watch her from just beyond the classroom door, my head tilted, eyes narrowing as she glides across the floor like sheowns it. Teaching. Laughing. Pretending this isn’t a goddamn graveyard of secrets.
The Devils haven’t been by in nearly a week.
Strange.
They’re usually wrapped around her like a noose. Wyck. Wells. Dash. The whole fucking brotherhood, possessive like she’s some queen on a blood-soaked throne. It’s pathetic. They crowd her like dogs circling heat. Makes me sick.
But their absence? Convenient.
The longer they leave her unattended, the easier it is for me to slip in, unnoticed. Earn her trust. Her confidence. Her soul.
And when the time comes, I’ll carve this whole rotten kingdom from the inside.
Just like he told me to.
A shrill voice breaks the moment. “Can I help you?”
I don’t turn right away. Let her wait. Let the silence crawl.
Then I face her. Cressida. Always nosy. Always clawing for leverage she doesn’t have.
“Not unless you want to trade uniforms,” I say, flashing my rehearsed smile. “Security’s a dangerous job for someone with such… soft features.”
She doesn’t blink. Doesn’t flinch. Just plants one hand on her hip like she’s ready to draw blood with it.
“What are youreallydoing here, Crew?”
She spits my name like it’s venom, but I smile. Good. Let her hate me, it keeps her close.
“What’s it to you,Cressida?”
She closes the gap between us like a woman who’s confused hatred for desire. Her hand drops to my belt. The other drags over my chest.
