The Devil's Advocate: Devil's Playground Duet #2

by Ashley Jade

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” He gestures to William Anderson—the head of David Covey’s political party—and the man who will ensure I have the majority vote from the committee when they meet in secret later tonight. “Let me hand it over to the one who can answer your questions.”

  Cain eyes the podium like a hawk as Trejo and Anderson trade places, no doubt chomping at the bit to know who his new opponent is.

  He won’t find out now, though. I specifically instructed Anderson not to tell the public about me until it was a done deal.

  I don’t want to give Cain—or his precious governor Bexley—the chance to persuade someone on my committee to change their vote.

  “Evening, everyone,” Anderson starts. “I know you’re all anxious about the upcoming election. However, out of respect for the family, we won’t be revealing who the new candidate is until after David Covey’s funeral.”

  Instantly, reporters’ hands fly up and they start pummeling him with questions.

  “Isn’t the public supposed to nominate the candidate?”

  “The election is just over a week away, is that enough time for the town to make an informed decision by polling day?”

  “Given Covey was terminal, did he ever disclose who he’d like to take his place?”

  I can practically see the hairs on Cain’s neck stand on end as he whispers something to the man next to him.

  “Please, everyone,” Anderson stresses. “I know you’re all concerned about the upcoming election, however, right now is about David Covey. We’ll be holding another conference the day after the funeral to discuss the events going forward. Now, excuse me while I spend the rest of my evening mourning the loss of a great man.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  I glance up at his reflection as I finish washing my hands. “Last I checked, this was a restroom. Do you really need me to go into specifics?”

  “You know what I mean. I distinctly remember telling you never to set foot in this town again.”

  “The conference was open to the public.” I fish my cigarettes out of my pocket and light one. “And technically the Vanderbilt Castle—my new home—isn’t part of Black Hallows. It’s just outside of it.” Turning, I blow a line of smoke in his face. “Might want to do some research on your town before the election, Mayor.”

  Despite his impassive expression, a vein in his forehead begins to bulge. “I’m gonna cut to the chase, Damien. This little stunt of yours is over. You have exactly two minutes to leave, or I’ll have you dragged out in handcuffs.”

  Reaching over, I give his tie a little tug. “Kinky.”

  He swats my hand away. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He digs inside his pocket for his cell phone, but I shove him against the nearest wall and place my forearm over his throat, keeping him there.

  “Careful, Carter.” Leaning in, I graze the shell of his ear with my teeth. “You don’t want to cause any waves before the election.”

  “I think all the time you spent on that tropical island reduced your brain cells. You’re in no position to come here and try to intimidate me, asshole.”

  “Kept tabs on me, have you?” I get close to his face. “Who says I came here to intimidate you?” I lower my gaze to his zipper before meeting his eyes. “Maybe I’m here to hang out with my new friend. We have so much in common. So many things to bond over.”

  His eyes narrow and I can see those wheels of his turning.

  He knows I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have something on him.

  Something that would destroy everything.

  He bares his teeth. “Where is Eden? What have you done with her?”

  “Your little lamb will be staying with me for the time being.”

  His brown eyes turn black with rage. “Like hell she will.”

  Removing my arm, I straighten his collar. “Have a good evening. I know I will.”

  “I’ll call the police,” he barks when I open the bathroom door.

  “That’s a good idea.” Looking over my shoulder, I flash him a spiteful grin. “You obviously don’t have what it takes to protect her. Otherwise I wouldn’t have stolen her from you.”

  With that, I walk out.

  Cain’s hot on my heels as I stride down the empty hallway. “Release Eden and leave town, or I’ll hand over the tape to the authorities, Damien. I mean it. Don’t fuck with me.”

  “It’s not you I’m fucking this time, Carter.” I spin around to face him. “You can do whatever you want, but be forewarned I’ll tell everyone— including your darling Eden—the truth.” Reaching between us, I find his testicles through his pants and give them a sharp tug. “So, unless you want everyone to find out who the real Cain Carter is, consider these mine for the foreseeable future. Because our little game isn’t over until I fucking say it is.”

  He scowls. “I’m not interested in playing your stupid game.”

  “You know as well as I do that games are only fun if you have an opponent.”

  He bares his teeth. “It would be more fun to see you locked up in a jail cell.”

  “Unfortunately for you, that’s not going to happen. Not after I tell Ed—”

  His fist connects with my face. “You hurt her, or tell her anything, and I swear to God I’ll kill you.”

  Staggering back, I spit the blood forming on my bottom lip at him. “That would bring your body count to what? F—”

  "Cain, honey,” a voice at the other end of the hall interjects. “Is that you?"

  “Fuck,” Cain mutters before he clears his throat. “I thought you went home, Margaret.”

  “Looks like you have a stalker,” I muse as she starts walking toward us.

  He starts to say something, but Margaret picks up her pace.

  "You were right, Cain.” I reach for her hand and give it a kiss. “She is stunning."

  “Thank you.” A blush creeps up her cheeks as she looks between me and her fiancé. “I don’t believe I’ve met your friend before.”

  “You haven’t,” he grits through his teeth. “He’s only visiting for a short—”

  “Margaret—oh, what’s going on down here?” Governor Bexley questions, his jolly frame marching down the hallway.

  Cain looks like he’s about to bust at the seams.

  I let go of his daughter’s hand and extend mine to the governor. “Nice to meet you, Governor Bexley.”

  He promptly shakes it. “Likewise…” His voice trails off, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

  “Damien King. I’m an old friend of your soon-to-be son-in-law.”

  The governor shifts his stance uncomfortably, clearly caught off guard. “I—uh. I see.” He lowers his voice a fraction, like he’s about to tell me a secret. “I knew your father. He was…”

  “So ruthless he made the devil look like a humanitarian?” I finish for him before winking at Margaret who hasn’t taken her eyes off me. “Well, you know what they say—like father, like son.”

  Cain snorts and we all turn our attention to him.

  “Sorry.” He pounds on his chest and coughs. “Must be coming down with something.”

  The governor nods. “Margaret said you haven’t been feeling well since last night.” He levels him with a look. “Do you think you can pull it together for the next hour? There are some important associates of mine waiting for you in conference room B.”

  Cain looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Of course. Let’s go.” He starts walking but pauses. The smile on his face is about as fake as the governor’s toupee. “You said you were leaving, right?”

  “Indeed.” My expression hardens. “I have something very precious waiting for me back at home.”

  Governor Bexley and Margaret exchange a bemused glance.

  “Home?” Margaret questions. “I thought Cain said you were visiting?”

  “I am. But like I was telling Cain earlier, I’ll be dealing with some important business matters this month, and since I det
est hotels, I decided to purchase the Vanderbilt Castle.”

  Cain makes a face, but he quickly recovers when the governor whistles. “That’s quite an investment for such a short visit.”

  Cain checks his watch. “We should probably get going.”

  “How long are you in town for?” Margaret asks as we begin ambling down the hallway.

  “That all depends on how well my new associate cooperates with me.” I slap Cain’s shoulder when we reach the atrium. “However, if I’m still in town for the election, I’ll make sure to vote for you.”

  The look Cain gives me could kill a dead man.

  And the look I give him…warns him this was only round two.

  Chapter 11

  Eden

  “Where is he?”

  The guy…servant…whatever role Damien hired him for—which apparently includes being at my beck and call—pays me no mind as he continues hunting through the closet in this God-forsaken prison cell of a bedroom.

  “Found it,” Geoffrey declares triumphantly, holding up a black dress. “This is what he requested you wear for the funeral.” Before I can protest, he shoves it at me. “Put it on.”

  “No.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs deeply. The action makes him appear much older than his estimated twenty-five years.

  It’s kind of strange he’s wasting his youth working for a ruthless asshole like Damien King—but I have more important things to worry about.

  “Where is Damien?” I ask again, sharper than before.

  Geoffrey shrugs. “Not in here.” He picks the dress up off the floor and hands it back to me. “Now get dressed.”

  My blood is boiling like lava, but it’s obvious fighting with the help isn’t getting me anywhere.

  Given Damien instructed his servants to keep me locked up like a prisoner, it’s time for Plan B.

  I shimmy out of my silk sleep shorts and yank the matching tank top over my head. Biting my lip, I meet his gaze as I toy with the clasp of my bra. “Are you going to keep watching me?”

  His cheeks take on a tomato color, which would almost be adorable if he didn’t work for the enemy.

  Faster than lightning, he skedaddles to the door. I hear the sound of his key entering the lock a moment later.

  “Ouch,” I shriek.

  As expected, Geoffrey comes rushing to my aid. “Miss, are you—”

  I don’t hear the rest of his statement because I make a mad dash for the door.

  I have no idea which of the many rooms down the hall belongs to Damien, but if I had to take a guess, it would be the one at the very end.

  The one with the balcony.

  Geoffrey calls my name and his footsteps get closer, but I pick up my pace, ignoring the shocked look another servant gives me as I pass him.

  A few seconds later, I turn the knob…and barrel right into a woman wearing a maid uniform.

  Given her hair and makeup are perfect, and her uniform is crisp and spotless, it doesn’t look like she does much cleaning around here.

  She closes the door behind her and pops a hand on her hip. “Can I help you?”

  The way her expression contorts into disgust has me feeling all kinds of self-conscious. Especially since I’m standing here in nothing but my underwear…and she looks like she just walked out of a magazine titled, ‘Better Homes and Sexiest Housekeepers.’

  “Sorry, I must have the wrong room.”

  “You’re not permitted to roam around the castle,” Geoffrey scolds when he catches up. “It’s against the rules.”

  Rules. Annoyance bubbles in my throat.

  Had I known this deal with Damien involved taking away my basic human rights—I would have hurled myself off that balcony.

  I miss Cain. The thought makes me feel stupid, given the circumstances—but it’s no less true.

  I miss my life. I miss my home.

  I miss being able to walk into the kitchen to get myself a goddamn glass of water.

  Cain never treated me like a hostage.

  The maid smiles coldly and flicks a hand in my direction. “Too-da-loo.”

  “Have I offended you in some way?”

  I have no idea what I could’ve done to make her act like I’m worse than the dirt on the bottom of her shoe.

  She looks past me to Geoffrey. “How much longer—” she starts to say, but the door behind her opens.

  “Get back to work,” Damien barks.

  Geoffrey takes off like a bat out of hell, but she saunters backward down the hall, pouting at Damien. “Will I see you later?”

  A weird mixture of suspicion and what feels a whole lot like jealousy slams into me.

  It’s now crystal clear why she’s not too fond of me, but what’s not clear is why the thought of Damien sleeping with someone else feels so…unsettling.

  I mean, I certainly don’t want him. For one fleeting moment, I thought I was attracted to him and that there was this unfathomable connection between us. But then reality came crashing down—around the same time he left me bound, hungry, groggy from the drugs he gave me, and locked in a room until Geoffrey found me hours later—and I came to the sobering conclusion that the man is a psychopath.

  Needless to say, Damien screwing another woman should be the least of my worries. If anything, I should feel relieved he’s set his sights on someone else.

  And yet…there’s a sliver of resentment making its way through the hollow space in my chest.

  The one created by another man.

  I don’t have time to digest all these bizarre feelings though, because Damien turns those sinister blue orbs my way.

  A wave of heat courses through me as he rakes his gaze up and down my body meticulously, lingering on my panties before meeting my eyes. “Get in here.”

  My windpipe feels like sandpaper as he opens the door wider and I tread past him.

  I let out a heavy breath the moment I’m inside, feeling like I made it past the lion’s den. However, I suck it right back in when Damien begins to corner me.

  “You’re out of your room.”

  His eyes narrow as he inspects me. I do the same to him, taking in his black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. His casual appearance throws me, but not so much that I miss his damp forehead or the faint smell of sweat…no doubt due to his morning workout with the maid.

  “Looks like I’ll have to find someone who isn’t so easily seduced to look after you.”

  “I didn’t seduce anyone,” I fib as my back hits the wall. “I pretended to be hurt so I could escape.” Fearing he’ll hire that maid to do the job, I add, “It wasn’t Geoffrey’s fault. He was only trying to help.” I jab his chest with my finger. “For what it’s worth, I don’t need anyone to look after me.”

  “Says the girl who marched down to my bedroom in her underwear.”

  “I needed to talk to you.”

  “Well, you’ve got my attention.” He places his arms on either side of my head. “Now, I suggest you tell me what the problem is...or do something else with that pretty mouth of yours before I lose interest.”

  “What’s the matter? Your bitch of a maid didn’t do a good job?” I snap before I can stop myself.

  “Your little kitty claws are adorable.” I want to bite his mouth when it curls into a mocking grin. “Don’t bother wasting them on me, though. Save them for someone who actually gives a fuck.”

  With that, he turns and walks away.

  I follow him into the bathroom. “You want to know why I’m so fucked up, but I think we should start with you, Mr. Damien King.”

  Paying me no mind, he turns on the shower.

  “Why are you such an asshole?”

  There’s nothing but silence as he slips his t-shirt over his head.

  Anger churns in my stomach, picking up speed with every passing second, like a boulder rolling downhill.

  I’m prepared to deal with nearly anything he throws my way, but I can’t stand being blatantly ignored.

  And I
know Damien’s only doing it to get under my skin.

  Maybe I should return the favor and push a few of his buttons.

  It’s not like Damien will kill me.

  You don’t assassinate someone you deem indispensable.

  “Let me guess, Mommy and Daddy spoiled you.” I take a step closer, watching the muscles in his broad back tense up. “Which would explain why you reek of entitlement and take things that don’t belong to you.”

  He slides off his sweatpants next, but I don’t miss the slight tic of his jaw in the mirror.

  I creep up behind him, trying not to get lost in the giant reflection staring back at me. Damien might be the Devil, but his body is a temple. Golden skin, abs harder than granite, well-defined muscular arms, and an ass you could crack walnuts on.

  A face so perfect your heart skips several beats.

  I’m not sure how, but he manages to look both downright menacing and utterly beautiful.

  It makes me wonder if he uses his striking appearance as a weapon against people…or as armor because the distraction keeps them at bay.

  Perhaps both.

  I leisurely run my finger from one of his shoulder blades to the other.

  Damien watches me like a hawk in the mirror.

  “It’s often said that bullies terrorize others as a way to cover up for their own insecurities and pain.”

  The steam from the shower fills up the room as I trail my hand down his abs, stopping right above the waistband of his boxers. “Is that it, Damien? Did someone hurt y—”

  I don’t finish that sentence because he spins around with a force so powerful I lose my balance.

  For the briefest of moments, I see a flash of something in those stormy baby blues before he forces me to my knees and lowers his boxers.

  I attempt to get up, but he grabs a fistful of my hair and stands directly in front of me, trapping me between his body and the wall.

  I watch as he wraps his hand around his erection, feeling grateful I didn’t see it before it was inside me. The wide mushroom head is slick and demanding…as is the rest of his thick and veiny shaft.

  His cock is every bit as dominating as he is.

  Fisting it tighter, he holds it out to me. “Open.”