by Meghan March
Heart of the Devil
Meghan March
Contents
Heart of the Devil
Don’t Miss Out!
Also by Meghan March
About Heart of the Devil
1. Forge
2. India
3. Forge
4. India
5. Forge
6. India
7. India
8. India
9. Forge
10. India
11. Forge
12. India
13. Forge
14. India
15. India
16. Forge
17. India
18. India
19. Forge
20. India
21. Forge
22. India
23. Forge
24. India
25. India
26. Forge
27. India
28. India
29. India
30. India
31. India
32. Forge
33. India
34. Forge
35. India
36. Forge
37. India
38. Forge
39. India
40. Forge
41. India
42. India
43. Forge
44. India
45. Forge
46. India
47. Forge
48. Forge
Epilogue
Black Sheep Sneak Peek
Acknowledgments
Also by Meghan March
About the Author
Heart of the Devil
Book Three of the Forge Trilogy
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Meghan March
Copyright © 2018 by Meghan March LLC
* * *
All rights reserved.
* * *
Editor: Pam Berehulke, Bulletproof Editing,
www.bulletproofediting.com
Cover Design: Letitia Hassar, R.B.A. Designs,
www.rbadesigns.com
Cover Photo: Paper Tiger Photography
* * *
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
* * *
Visit my website at www.meghanmarch.com.
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Also by Meghan March
Dirty Mafia Duet:
Black Sheep
White Knight
* * *
Forge Trilogy:
Deal with the Devil
Luck of the Devil
Heart of the Devil
* * *
Sin Trilogy:
Richer Than Sin
Guilty as Sin
Reveling in Sin
* * *
Mount Trilogy:
Ruthless King
Defiant Queen
Sinful Empire
* * *
Savage Trilogy:
Savage Prince
Iron Princess
Rogue Royalty
Beneath Series:
Beneath This Mask
Beneath This Ink
Beneath These Chains
Beneath These Scars
Beneath These Lies
Beneath These Shadows
Beneath The Truth
* * *
Dirty Billionaire Trilogy:
Dirty Billionaire
Dirty Pleasures
Dirty Together
* * *
Dirty Girl Duet:
Dirty Girl
Dirty Love
* * *
Real Duet:
Real Good Man
Real Good Love
* * *
Real Dirty Duet:
Real Dirty
Real Sexy
* * *
Flash Bang Series:
Flash Bang
Hard Charger
* * *
Standalones:
Take Me Back
Bad Judgment
About Heart of the Devil
It started as a game. She was nothing but my pawn.
* * *
But I was quick to see the error in my ways, and now she is everything I never knew I needed.
* * *
The value of a woman like India Baptiste is beyond measure.
* * *
But the problem with being a man like me? I’ve already screwed this up, and there’s no guarantee India will take me on for one last bet.
* * *
I’ll do what ever I have to do. Drop to my knows and offer her the only thing I have left. The one thing that’s only ever been hers—the heart of the devil.
* * *
Heart of the Devil is the third book in the Forge Trilogy and should be read after Deal with the Devil and Luck of the Devil.
Have you been wondering what's coming next from me after the Forge Trilogy? Your question will be answered soon! Don't miss the exclusive sneak peek from my next book, Black Sheep, after Heart of the Devil!
1
Forge
Ten years ago
“What the fuck was that?”
The floor-to-ceiling panes of glass in my office just rattled so hard, I thought they would shatter. I jumped out of my seat at the desk and rushed to the windows in time to see a ball of fire explode on the water halfway between Isaac’s island and Ibiza.
Fire on the water. Every captain’s worst nightmare, and this one was growing by the minute.
Through the thick cloud of black smoke, I could make out a sleek red hull. The other boat involved in the crash was indistinguishable, hidden behind the expanding wall of flame.
Fuck.
Bolting from my office, I snagged the keys lying on the counter in Isaac’s spacious kitchen and ran out of the house, heading for the stairs carved into the cliff that led down to the dock.
I’d lost track of time as I’d worked, and I had no idea how long Isaac had been gone. He took his small fishing boat out to catch lunch for his birthday, because according to him, there was no day better spent. I’d been planning to go with him, but a call had come in that couldn’t be ignored.
Pirates off the coast of Africa had been spotted stalking one of Isaac’s ships. Isaac had winked and told me to handle it.
“You’re more than capable. That’s why you’ll inherit the fleet and everything I’ve built someday. God put you on my ship for a reason. You’re my legacy, Jericho.”
The memory faded away as I pounded down the dock to the tender bobbing on the waves. It wasn’t fancy, since we mostly used it to fetch supplies from Ibiza, but it would get me to the wreck quickly so I could offer assistance to the survivors of whatever the fuck happened out there.
I started th
e engine, tossed off the lines, and hammered the throttle, expecting to see a swarm of boats heading toward the accident to help, but there was only one nearby. As I cut through the water, closing the distance at top speed, I caught sight of one boat involved in the collision as the bow shot above the surface as if taking its last breath, then sank quickly.
“No!” An icy fist seized my heart as the sea claimed the familiar black outline of a woman’s profile set against the white of the hull.
Donatella’s profile.
The love of Isaac’s life. The woman who died in an accident, while he was at sea and totally unaware. He never forgave himself for not being there, and as long as I’d known him, he’d put her image on every single ship he owned.
I scanned the water, desperately searching for Isaac’s silver hair, expecting his sure strokes to be carrying him away from the fire and toward the nearest boat, but I didn’t see him.
A man on the rescue vessel hauled a kid over the side. Thank fuck for that. I piloted around the blaze, trying to find Isaac, but another explosion sent flames spiraling from the surface as the boat with the red hull exploded.
Shit!
“Isaac!” I screamed his name, praying like hell he was swimming toward the other boat. I turned toward them and called out to see if they’d rescued him, but the captain didn’t answer as he pulled someone else from the water. I froze, but the momentary hope shattered when I saw a younger man climb onto the swim platform.
I yelled again, and the last man out of the water spotted me. Instead of replying, he snarled at the captain, shoving him toward the helm.
“Go! Go! Go! Get us the fuck out of here!”
What the hell?
I didn’t recognize him, but when the captain stared at him instead of moving, the blond man charged toward the helm, pushing the kid and the two other men aside as he grabbed the wheel. In moments, the boat roared away from the fire, leaving any remaining survivors behind.
Who the fuck does that? I wasn’t fucking leaving until I was certain every single survivor had been rescued.
“Isaac!” I bellowed until my voice turned ragged, circling the debris field, desperate to find him. On my second pass, I spotted a hand clinging to a floating cooler.
Thank God. I pulled the throttle back into neutral and charged to the side of the boat.
“I’m coming, Isaac. I’m coming.” I swear to Christ, I’ll save you.
With that vow, I launched myself over the side, diving below the burning surface of the water before emerging inside the ring of fire. To my right, a hand rose above the water, and I swam toward it.
“Isaac!” I reached out, sending up a prayer as soon as I saw his dive watch, but when my fingers touched the skin, I knew something was wrong. I tugged, and the arm flew toward me . . . but there was no body connected.
No. No!
Gas- and oil-laced water rushed into my mouth as I screamed his name again and again. Ice-cold rage flooded my veins as I realized what had likely happened. Those motherfuckers fled the scene of a crime. They hit Isaac’s boat and fucking ran.
But that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was finding Isaac. The rest of Isaac.
“Isaac!”
But there was no reply, except the crackle of the fire and the scent of burning oil, gas, plastic . . . and human flesh.
I sank beneath the surface, not caring that the sea water stung as I opened my eyes, searching the submerged wreckage for any sign of the only father I’d ever known.
The hull of the red boat faded as it sank to its grave on the bottom of the ocean, joining Isaac’s.
Isaac has to be down there. He must have been close to the impact or the initial explosion.
I kicked to the surface, my hand still gripping Isaac’s as I swam for my boat to climb aboard to get my mask. Moments later, I was back in the water, having left the only piece of Isaac I might find, and dove to the bottom.
I wouldn’t rest until I found the rest of him . . . and the fucking coward who left him here to die.
2
India
Present day
Terror and fear race through my body unchecked as I stare at the man who just stepped out of the elevator into the lobby of the penthouse floor and my own personal nightmare.
My husband is missing, and Donnigan, Bates, and Goliath are dead.
Belevich’s gaze sweeps over my bloodstained dress, and his eyes go wide.
“Did you kill them? Where is he?” My shrill questions come out ragged and desperate, and the Russian stares at me like I’ve lost my goddamned mind.
“Kill who?” Belevich asks. He takes a careful step toward me, like he’s afraid I’m going to snap. And I might.
“Don’t you dare come any fucking closer to me. Answer my goddamned questions.” If Belevich had anything to do with this, I’m not going to make killing me easy for him. I’ll punch, kick, and claw his goddamned eyes out.
“I was playing poker, India. At the same goddamned table as you. I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Then who the fuck did this? Where is my husband?” My voice rises to ear-piercing levels as I point down the hall.
“I don’t know anything, but—” Belevich’s head swivels to follow the direction of my shaking arm, and he finally sees Bates lying with his neck at an awkward angle, and Donnigan’s body with the blood-stained carpet beneath him. “Jesus Christ. What the fuck happened?”
“I don’t fucking know!”
Belevich crouches, checking Bates and Donnigan’s necks for pulses he won’t find. I know, because I checked them both too.
They’re dead. They’re all dead. A sob threatens to break free from my lips, but I swallow it as Belevich draws a gun from an ankle holster and jumps to his feet.
“You fucking liar!” I scream, fisting my hands as I shrink toward the corner. Belevich isn’t taking me out without a fight.
“I’m not going to kill you, Indy. I don’t know what the fuck happened here, but you need to get behind me.”
I blink at him as he waves to where he expects me to stand. What? No. I’m not going near him.
A man groans from the hallway I ran down only minutes before after frantically searching for Jericho in our room. I dart toward Belevich so I can get a better view.
Please, God, let it be Jericho. Tell me I missed him somehow.
Belevich tries to block me with his body, but I sidestep him so I can see. The sliver of hope I’m clutching disintegrates. Jericho isn’t walking toward us. It’s Goliath, and blood gushes from his chest with each stumbling step he takes down the carpeted hallway.
Belevich cocks the gun. “Is he yours, or does he die?”
“He’s with me. Don’t shoot him!” I shove past Belevich, skirt around Bates and Donnigan’s bodies, and run toward Goliath, who I thought was dead only moments ago. From the amount of blood he’s losing, he still might die soon. “Stop. Sit down. We need to get you help.”
Goliath’s knees buckle, and I drop to a crouch beside him.
“We need towels. Sheets. Something to stop the bleeding.”
“I will get them.” Belevich steps around me to stride down the hall and kick open a door to a housekeeping closet. Moments later, he drops a stack of towels onto the carpet next to me.
“Move aside,” he orders, and I stumble back on my heels as he pulls Goliath’s hand away from where blood gushes. His shoulder, not his chest. Belevich dabs at it with the towel, peering close to get a better look before using Goliath’s hand to hold it against the wound.
“Is he—” I start to ask, but Belevich interrupts.
“Keep pressure on it,” he tells Goliath. “Your lucky day that you bled enough for them to think you were dead.”
“Did you see who did this? Who took Jericho?” I ask as I clench a towel in my hands. “We have to find him.”
Belevich hands Goliath another towel to replace the one that is already soaked through with blood. “Give the man a second to stop bleeding before you
question him.”
I whip my head sideways to stare daggers at Belevich. “We don’t have time. He could already be dead.”
Goliath opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a groan and a curse. “Fuck . . .”
Belevich tears the final towel into strips and winds them around Goliath’s shoulder to secure the makeshift bandage.
