The Devil Arrives

Pearl blinked, looking perfectly innocent.

“I think you’ve misunderstood. Stella is the company’s CEO. She’s so accomplished. Why would she hide from me?”

Daphne covered her mouth and giggled. The sound grated.

“Oh, she’s certainly ‘accomplished.’ And ‘hardworking.’ Dressing like a seductress and throwing herself into rooms full of men to close deals. Those of us born into proper families could never manage that.”

Her little follower, Bethany Hart, chimed in.

“She’s very hands-on with every project. She can spend the entire night in a hotel, negotiating with several men at once.”

I felt nothing.

I almost wanted to laugh.

Gathering in a group to spread sexual rumors was the cheapest, ugliest trick there was.

I had experienced it at eighteen.

That summer, I interned at the company. Nobody knew who I was.

A greasy middle manager in his forties invited me out for a late-night meal. When I refused, he told everyone in the break room I had tried to seduce him and sent him nude photographs.

He found pictures online, cropped off the heads, and claimed they were mine.

When I heard, I walked calmly into the break room.

In front of everyone, I beat him until his mouth was full of blood and he was cowering in a corner, shaking with fear.

Then I washed my hands and called the police.

All these years later, people were still playing the same filthy game.

“I’m not making this up,” Bethany insisted. “My family owns the hotel. Stella keeps a presidential suite there year-round. She’s handed out more than a dozen key cards. The staff have seen her going in with different men all the time.”

Her stream of lies made me laugh bitterly.

Her own father had given me the use of that suite to cultivate a business relationship.

It was there, so I used it.

Whenever clients came to Fairhaven, I arranged for them to stay in it.

I had never stayed there myself.

I was tired of letting this filth into my ears and decided to go over to Julian.

I had only moved a few steps when a disturbance at the entrance caught my attention.

Lucian walked in.

Behind me, Bethany deliberately raised her voice. She sounded theatrical and secretive.

“And I have an even better story. One time, a member of staff brought a late-night meal up to the suite and saw Stella with a man. You’ll never guess who.”

She lowered her voice just enough to invite everyone closer.

“It was Black—”

Two men in black seized her, one on each side.

Before she understood what was happening, a third bodyguard struck her across the mouth.

The slap cracked through the room.

He was a huge man, and he hadn’t held back.

Blood covered the lower half of her face.

Everyone froze.

Daphne spotted Lucian immediately and moved well away, terrified of being dragged into it.

Bethany was dazed. Then anger returned.

She was about to lash out when she looked up and noticed the emblem on the bodyguard’s cuff.

Her fury turned to horror.

A golden dragon, claws and fangs bared.

The Blackwood family crest.

Her mouth opened. Blood spilled over her lip.

“Mr… Mr. Blackwood…”

Lucian approached without hurrying.

His sharply defined brow cast a shadow over his eyes. He looked cold and utterly forbidding.

The lively gala, full of clinking glasses and conversation a moment earlier, fell silent.

He stopped in front of Bethany.

“Go on.”

“Wh-what?”

She shook so badly that without the guards holding her, she would have fallen to her knees.

He looked down at her and curved his beautiful mouth.

He might have been smiling.

There was no amusement in his eyes.

“You said Stella was in a hotel room with a man named Blackwood. Which Blackwood? Finish the story.”