by Mira Bailee
Fortunately, I’m no idiot. Hear that, Natalia. Screw you and your juvenile attempts at trapping me. I’m in a storage closet, surrounded by random tools and materials. It takes all of two seconds to find a screwdriver. Not sure what to do with it, but I’m certain I can take things apart until the whole door falls down. I thrust the screwdriver into the door’s hole, looking for any parts that seem like they’ll move.
There’s one. When I put the screwdriver into a small hole in the metal, something jiggles. I twist it and push and pull and beg the thing to do something. I yell at it and ram my entire, aching body into the wood door…
And it gives. I tumble into a hallway. Yes! I am woman, hear me roar. Never mind how much grace that lacked.
But now where am I? This hallway is completely empty, darker than I’d expect, and has very few doors. But my adrenaline is pumping, and I know Devon is looking for me. I pick a direction and walk—limp—as fast as I can. Each door, I pass, I open. More closets, a small office. This has to be an employee-only area.
But a break in one wall renews my hope. I turn down into another hallway, and after trying a few doors (all locked), I find one that’s extra familiar.
A stairwell. Apparently, I’m on the second floor. Seriously, how’d Natalia get me here? Did she have help? By the way I feel, I can only assume she dragged me, unconscious, banging me into every wall and step on the way.
I start down the stairs, struggling with each. What time is it? Only hours ago, Devon and I were in here…
I reach the bottom step and stare at the wall Devon had pressed me against earlier. Emotions rush at me faster than Natalia hitting me with a block of solid wood. How had it all gone so wrong? Tears burn my eyes, and it hurts like hell to wipe them away. The gala. Spending the night with Rhys and Christopher and Maddie and Devon. It had been perfect. Devon took Maddie home. We made plans to stay here for the night. It feels like so long ago, but it wasn’t. How long was I unconscious?
I take a deep breath trying to regain my focus. Just find Devon. But I can’t peel my eyes away from the stairs. My heel digging into that last step holding me steady. The feeling of Devon’s mouth on my skin—of the orgasm that took hold of me. He’d felt so good in me—his strong arms holding me up. It had been sexy and thrilling. Hell, we’d almost been caught. Was the intruder Natalia? My stomach turns at the thought. I have to get out of here.
Out through the door, exiting into the main hallway, I walk toward the gala room, forcing down the waves of nausea. My body’s so weak, and my ego crushed. I’m embarrassed by how naive I was to have trusted Natalia.
“Olivia!”
I turn toward his voice. There he is. My Devon. I’ll be okay now. He rushes to me, cupping my face in his hands. It hurts, but I don’t care.
“My god, what did she do to you?”
“I—I don’t remember it all. She hit me. With those memorial plaques that were on the tables.”
“She hit you with a photo of your brother? That’s really fucked up.”
Then I can’t help myself. I start laughing. It’s uncontrollable, but what else do I do in this ridiculous situation? It wasn’t that long ago that I was normal, simple Olivia. All the things that made me nervous and cautious in my old life—those were nothing compared to what I’m experiencing now.
“Do I need to take you to the hospital?” Devon asks.
“No. Or…maybe? I don’t know. Do you know what the hell is going on? Why did Natalia attack me?”
I lean into Devon letting him support me. He walks me to a cozy lounge area so I can sit down while he explains. The hotel is asleep at this point. I hear someone at the front reception, but otherwise, all is quiet. It’s a little creepy after the night I’ve had.
“Her real name is Natasha,” Devon says. “I have a restraining order against her, but clearly that’s not keeping her away anymore.”
“You know her?”
“Yeah. And I feel bad I couldn’t protect you. I had no idea you were working with her. How is it possible I never saw her?”
I think back to the times Devon and Natalia—Natasha—were in the same place. The restaurant when we first met up—where she’d changed locations at the last minute. The TV shoot—where she disappeared for most of it. The gala itself tonight—where she stayed in the background. I only saw her when Devon was away from our table. Holy shit, she’s been orchestrating this whole thing.
“She’s one sneaky bitch.”
“You’re telling me. Remember when I told you about those phone calls I was getting? The ones I thought were coming from you while we were apart?” He rests his hand on my leg. A tingle rushes through me, and all my conflicted feelings and aches and pains and urges make me want to scream.
Instead I nod in understanding. “I told you it wasn’t me. My number wouldn’t come up as Unknown.” Then another thought occurs to me. “Crap. The first time she came to my apartment, I was talking to Maddie. When I walked back to the living room to talk to Natalia—Natasha. I’m just calling her Nat. My head hurts too much to keep it straight. Anyway, when I came back out, she was gone. She’d been in my room. She said she was lost. That’s where my phone was. That’s how she got your number.”
“It sickens me more that she knows where you live.”
I shrug. “I’m too dazed to think about that. Where is she now? Creeping around outside my apartment? In another state?”
“Upstairs,” Devon answers. “Cuffed to the bed.”
Why would she be? An image comes to me. Gross. She was going to seduce Devon while I was trapped in a closet?
“What do we do now?”
“For one, I’m calling in my guys and getting ahold of my lawyer. This psycho’s getting locked up.”
In a matter of minutes, two guys in black suits show up. They’re big, beefy, security detail-types. We meet them in the lobby, and I’m sure the sight of me—the blood dried to my face—is enough confirmation that calling them out this late was justified.
We load into the elevator and make our way to the top. I stifle another fit of giggles. This should’ve been me, hours ago. On my way up to wait for Devon. Tonight should’ve ended on a high note—the two of us naked in his bed. Instead, I’m a beat-up mess still trying to grasp what’s happening. Devon’s holding my hand, his free hand clenched into a fist, and two big dudes with guns escort us up to Natalia—dammit, Nat. She’s going down.
The elevator dings and we pile out.
“We’ve got this Mr. Stone.” One of the guards takes Devon’s key card and unlocks the door. Devon and I stand back, staying in the hallway, his arms wrapped securely around me. It’s like he really does feel bad about all this, as though it’s his fault.
“I’m sorry, Olivia. I shouldn’t have left you.”
“You couldn’t have known.” I turn to face him. “None of us knew. And you’re here now. It’ll be okay.”
I focus on him rather than the scene that must be occurring inside the penthouse. When I see that bitch’s face…On second thought, I need to prepare for Devon’s reaction. He’s going to want to kill her. I rest my head on his chest listening to the pounding of his heartbeat.
“Mr. Stone?” one of the guards calls from inside. “The room’s clear.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. “That lingo for it’s safe to enter?”
“Guess so.” He takes my hand and we walk in together, our heads held high.
“Sir. There’s no sign of her. The suite’s completely empty.”
An empty room, empty bed, and an empty feeling in my stomach.
Where the hell is she?
One trip to a doctor. One concussion recovery. One sexy Devon insisting I stay with him at the Stone mansion—better security, he says. And here I am, on a Monday evening, basking in the sun on the Stones’ private beach. I’m a lucky girl. Not only is Nat long gone, running from her own crazy crimes, but I have Devon Stone—my Lust List Number Three—all to myself.
I adjust the top of my bik
ini and drink from my frozen daiquiri. The sound of the waves threatens to lure me to sleep. I’ve never felt more relaxed—
“Hey.”
I scream and jump out of my chaise lounge, my heart pounding.
“Whoa. Did I scare you?”
Devon stands next to me, and even though I see with my own eyes that it’s just him—that I’m not in any danger—my pulse still races. “No, not scared. You just…just surprised me.” I can’t get past this skittishness. Everything startles me, like I’m expecting to be attacked again at any moment.
“Right. Like I believe that. Come here.” He wraps his arms around me, and I feel myself calming down.
I’m safe. Everything’s okay.
Devon’s hands press against my back, and the warmth from his fingertips rushes to my skin, sending heat through my body.
“Dinner’s waiting inside. You hungry?”
He looks down at me and I steal a kiss. “Definitely hungry, but not for food.”
“Yeah?” He leans in close to my ear and the warmth from his breath makes me shiver. “I can take care of that. Again.”
Without a word, I turn and lead him toward the steps of the veranda. We walk past the pool, and I step under the outdoor shower to get the beach sand off of me.
Devon’s watching, so I make a show of it—make it worthwhile for him. I start the water and step underneath the rainfall-like stream. The water drenches my hair, droplets dripping down my half-naked body. I turn away from Devon knowing damn well he’ll be staring at the back of me. The water rinses over my curves, and I run my hands down my hips, looping a finger on each side of my bikini bottoms. I tug just enough to show him some extra skin and then release the elastic and rub my hands back up my sides and through my hair.
One second, I’m alone under the water. The next second, Devon is pressed up behind me, kissing my shoulders, running his own hands down my waist.
I turn to him, holding back my urge to laugh as his button-down shirt and jeans soak up more and more water. This is a sexy moment. I can’t let my own giddiness ruin it. Instead, I kiss him, long and hard, pushing my body into his. His hands find their way to my ass, and then he brings one around the front and teases my most sensitive spots with his fingertips. I step up on my tiptoes and moan into his ear. A growl escapes Devon, and he holds me tighter. We need to get inside. Now.
“Mr. Stone,” someone interrupts from the back door. “A phone call for you.”
Devon gives an exasperated sigh. “We’ll continue this soon.”
He turns and goes inside, water dripping off his clothes.
I grab a towel and wrap it around myself, trying to ignore the wanting in my body. I go upstairs and change into dry clothes. Back downstairs, I find the dining room table covered in a spread of delicious-looking food. A bright, colorful salad, a tray of fresh fruit, a basket of steaming French bread, roasted potatoes, blackened fish, and a bottle of wine. This world of luxury is like a nonstop vacation. To think, Devon grew up with this.
Sitting down, I pour a glass of wine, stalling as I wait for Devon. I snag a strawberry and nibble on that, wondering who’d be calling him. He seems so busy all the time, yet, he doesn’t really have a career. He helps out at the family law office on occasion, but I’ve yet to see him show any real passion for a job. I want to know what drives him, what he wants to do with his life. He seems to hide that ambitious side of him, but I see it. He’s dedicated to his family’s business. He’s loyal to whatever they need. Maybe he just hasn’t found his role in it all. It must have been hard, watching his father give Kaidan everything.
But didn’t Devon do it to himself? His family is completely aware of the drug issue. They probably made the right choice not giving him the keys to the Stone legacy.
I gulp. I’m definitely not delving into this topic over dinner. I can imagine how quickly it can take a turn for the worse.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Maddie’s been checking on me often, so I pull it out grateful that we can chat for a minute before dinner.
A text waits for me, and when I see it, I almost choke on the piece of strawberry in my mouth.
No, this can’t be happening.
It’s definitely not Maddie.
It’s Nat.
It’s not just a text message either. A photo’s attached. A photo of me and Devon from mere moments ago—under the outside shower, kissing.
And the message that goes with it:
You can’t keep me out, bitch.
My breath catches in my throat. My hands shake. This isn’t over. She’s not gone. And we’re not safe here like Devon assured.
I shove my phone back in my pocket and clench the edge of the table with both hands, trying to steady the trembling.
My head is feeling better. The bruises are fading. Fear and anger is finally leaving me more determined to be stronger, rather than crippled with anxiety.
And now this?
Devon walks in, freshly changed into a dry t-shirt and cargo shorts. He looks relaxed and…and happy. I can’t ruin what’s been happening between us. Things are so good. I can’t let Nat drive a wedge between us. I won’t let her.
“Everything okay?” I ask, not wanting him to ask me the same.
“Yeah. Family drama. You know how it is.” He takes a seat and starts filling both our plates with our dinner.
I’ve only been here a couple days, and I definitely know what he means about family drama. The Stones are either coming or going in an urgent rush or they’re preparing for court dates, meeting with publicists, fighting on the phone with an array of people. Honestly, I wouldn’t want to know all the details. It would leave me stressed out. But it seems like the Stones have enemies, and from what I can tell, I’d never take on a battle against a Stone. I’m lucky to be on their good side.
Halfway through our meal, Kaidan wanders in and collapses in one of the empty chairs, picking up a chunk of fresh bread and chomping into it.
“Help yourself,” Devon says with a sarcastic tone.
I haven’t seen the two of them together much. Devon says they’ve been fighting lately, so every time Kaidan comes home, I try to find a way to distract Devon. Have I mentioned how much I hate conflict?
“Need a drink?” Devon asks, this time without the condescending attitude.
“The weekend I had? I need two.”
Devon grabs the wine bottle, but Kaidan waves a hand. “Nah. I got this.” He gets up and walks to a buffet table lining one wall. He opens a door to reveal a small liquor cabinet. After dropping a couple ice cubes into three lowball glasses, he fills each with a couple shots of amber liquid. He balances the three glasses in a hand, and places one in front of each of us.
“Thank you,” I say. I take a gulp letting the heat of scotch settle my nerves. A second gulp, and I don’t give a damn about Nat. I got the guy. She’ll never have a chance, and Devon won’t let her get near me again.
An awkward silence looms between all of us until Devon speaks first. “Have you two formally met?” He points in my direction.
Kaidan stares into his glass. “We’ve crossed paths.”
There’s a coldness in both their voices, and my own pulse quickens, expecting a time bomb to go off between these two dysfunctional twins. Any minute now.
“What’s going on with that T.R. deal?” Kaidan asks his brother.
I sit back, sipping at my drink.
Devon finishes a bite of his dinner and looks at me. “He’s talking about Turbulent Ray. You heard of him?” I shake my head no. “Well, you will. Once I convince him to sign a deal with us.”
Us? Is Devon working with Kaidan now?
Devon continues, “He’s a hip hop artist. Young, incredibly talented, incredibly egotistical.”
Kaidan takes over, “So that’s when Devon gets involved. We send him after the tough recruits—the ones who need to be carefully manipulated.”
“What? Is that your specialty or something?” I ask Devon. Him doing all this for the
label is news to me, but it explains why he travels often.
“Something like that,” he says, giving me a wink. “Most people fall for my charming ways.”
I playfully kick at him under the table. “I bet they do.”
“Speaking of T.R., I’m leaving in the morning to meet him in Atlanta. I’ll have the contract signed before I get back. Trust me.”
Kaidan doesn’t look worried. This really must be a normal thing for them. Call me intrigued. I thought these two wanted to kill each other.
“Wait, you’re leaving tomorrow?” Some warning would’ve been nice.
“It’s just for a day. I’ll be gone early in the morning and back twenty-four hours later. You can just hang out around here until I’m done. Mark’s around if you want to go anywhere, and the staff will take care of the rest.”
That doesn’t sound so bad. It’s just a day in this crazy place. And if Devon’s on the other side of the country, Nat won’t be able to mess with him—unless she also has a private jet.
“This guy’s going to try to suck everything out of you,” Kaidan says, lifting his drink. “It’s like they don’t understand or appreciate how much we invest in them far beyond handing them an advance.”
Devon laughs, “They don’t know how record labels work.”
“You must have stories,” I say. “What’s it like going after these people?” By now the scotch has turned most my body into a jello-y cloud. Even the text from Nat isn’t bothering me. I could kick her ass any day, as long as this liquid courage is involved.
“Devon went to this one band,” Kaidan starts. “This rock band who’d been producing all their stuff independently for years. They had a huge fan base, they made music that sounded truly original—none of that ripoff shit we have soliciting us all the time—and we wanted them on our label. We heard they were hard to please—cocky after proving they could succeed without the big industry backers. So we sent Devon, and…” Kaidan holds off on the punch line, instead finishing his drink and standing up to get more. “Go ahead, D. Tell her what they got you to do.”
