by King, Bella
Diavolo smiles at me, his eyes sweeping over the impossibly revealing outfit that he picked out. Having me wear this must be another one of his tests, and I’m not going to fail it. I’m extremely hard to break from my years on the wrong side of the law, and I’ll do anything to get his trust.
Plus, I can’t hate wearing something like this after being confined to a boring wardrobe for so long.
“Come with me,” Diavolo says, holding out his hand.
Am I supposed to take it? He’s just standing there, smiling at me with his hand outstretched.
I take a deep breath and step forward, slipping my hand into his. Upon making contact, he closes his fingers over mine, holding me tightly but not uncomfortably in his grip. We leave the room together.
My heart is pumping hard as my feet click on the stone ground at a slightly quicker pace than Diavolo’s leather shoes. A few people pass us in the underground hallway, but they don’t acknowledge my existence, even when I’m wearing something that should catch their eyes.
“You remember the way to my office, don’t you?” Diavolo asks, slowing his stride as we near the end of the hallway.
I nod. “It’s on the left, right?”
He chuckles. “Left, right, or somewhere in between. But yes, it’s on the left.” He stops walking. “I’d like you to go ahead and start cleaning. I’ll meet you there in a half-hour. I have a few things to attend to.”
“Alright,” I say, excited at the opportunity to explore his office alone.
Diavolo gives me a smile that’s a little too innocent to be real, his eyes twinkling under the simple bulbs hanging from the ceiling. “See you in a bit.”
I watch him leave, waiting until he has disappeared down the hallway to continue toward his office. His energy this morning is bizarre, nothing like last night, and I’m starting to wonder if he’s messing with me. He can’t be this casual after locking me under the floor all night.
I frown, hurrying the rest of the way to his office, trying to make myself small as I pass people in the hallway. I must look insane, walking around dressed like this when everyone else is wearing a robe or a suit.
I arrive at Diavolo’s office door, pressing a button beside the misplaced bookshelf jutting out of the stone wall and stepping closer to it. The entire thing spins around, leading me back into the inconspicuous office of one of the most powerful men on the planet.
Now that I have the place to myself, it’s time to do a little snooping.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Diavolo
“She’s related to who?” Slate asks, frowning as he stacks plastic-wrapped bricks of our purest form of Black Sugar into a pile.
“One of the crew members who disappeared on the cargo ship five years ago,” I reply, crossing my arms. “None of this is a coincidence.”
“How do you know that?” he asks, frowning as he stacks more bricks. “Everyone leaves their real identities at the door before initiation.”
“Her eyes,” I reply. “I can see it in the eyes.”
“Are you serious?” Slate asks, letting out a chuckle.
I slam my hand down on the thick wooden table. “Yes, I’m fucking serious, Slate. She has to be related to Olesya. We used to run background checks on people before the anonymity clause, and Olesya had a sister named Zella.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Slate replies, but he’s no longer laughing.
“It proves that there’s a possibility, and I trust my gut,” I say, standing up straight. “I’m going to be keeping a very close eye on that woman.”
“You don’t seem to be,” he replies.
I roll my eyes. “Slate, you’re really pushing it today.”
He throws his hands up. “I just don’t see her anywhere, sir. I’m not trying to be snarky.”
I shake my head, pulling out my phone. “She’s in my office, and that place is laced with cameras. Take a look.” I open the security app on my phone and hold it out to Slate.
He leans in, both of us taking in the marvelous sight of Zella prancing around my office in a skimpy maid outfit.
Slate raises his eyebrows, his eyes locked to the screen. “You made her wear that?”
I chuckle. “She agreed to it.”
“Maybe she’s just into you.”
I shrug. “It’s possible, but I’d like to know why.”
Slate looks up at me, frowning. “Sir, I’m fairly certain every woman in this organization is into you.”
“You flatter me.”
“It’s not flattery,” he insists, his eye drifting back down to the screen. “If a woman agrees to dress like this for you, it means she wants your dick.”
I pull the phone away from him, feeling a tinge of jealousy at the way he’s staring at Zella. “Let’s not be crude, Slate,” I say, even though I’m the one who dressed her up in such a revealing outfit. “I just wanted you to know that I’m always keeping a close eye on her.”
“I believe you, sir,” he says, going back to handling the bricks.
I look back down at the screen, watching in high definition as Zella moves around the office, cleaning up discarded wrappers and sweeping the ash off my desk. She’s diligent in her work and hasn’t so much as attempted to open a drawer on my desk yet. Perhaps she is innocent, after all.
I watch her for a minute longer before closing the app and looking back up at Slate. “I’m going to go to the shipyard today with Zella to speak with some of the crewmen from the other ship. They say they received some signals from the disappearing ship in question before it disappeared.”
Slate perks up. “That’s good news.”
I shrug. “It could be anything, but I’ll take whatever evidence I can get.”
“I’ll be finished with these shortly,” he says, slapping another brick on the stack. “Do you want me to join you?”
“That won’t be necessary,” I reply, tapping a finger against the table. “However, I would like you to talk to the recruiters and find out if they remember bringing in more than one woman for the initiation.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And also make sure that there were supposed to be thirteen people. I’m pretty sure there was, but I want to be certain,” I continue.
“Yes, sir.”
I hold up a finger. “And find out what happened to the dealer we tried to visit last night. Has there been a body recovered?”
“Not yet, sir,” Slate answers.
I rub my chin, feeling stubble that I should’ve shaved days ago. I’ve been a stressed-out mess, but I can think of a few ways to take that edge off. Every single one of them involves utilizing Zella.
Just the thought of her sends a shiver through me, an excitement I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s peculiar that she is capable of making me feel this way when I’m also highly suspicious of her. It must be the mystery that has me so aroused. I’ve always been partial to a good challenge.
I turn away from Slate, heading to the door to return to my office. I’m certain I won’t actually get any work done with Zella bouncing around the room, displaying her perfect body as she cleans. I’m beginning to think that it wasn’t such a good idea to have her dressed up like that.
I pull out my phone again to check the security cameras in my office, hoping to catch a glimpse of Zella bending over. However, I’m surprised by the sight of an empty room.
She’s gone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Zella
My plans to search the office were spoiled by three glaringly obvious cameras perched in the corners of the room. I’m fairly certain those weren’t there last night, but I could be mistaken. Diavolo sure is serious about keeping watch over me.
I’m starting to feel more like a prisoner than a spy, but I keep my hopes up. All I need to do is to get Diavolo alone for long enough to demand answers about my sister and enact my revenge. It’s easy in theory, but in practice, I have no clue how I’m going to make it happen.
I sweep a paper towel over Diavolo�
��s filthy desk, removing a pile of ash that missed the ashtray. My hand hits the lamp in my eagerness to clean it, and before I can catch it, the damn thing topples to the floor.
I curse under my breath. I sure hope I didn’t break it, or I expect Diavolo to put me in his little hole in the ground again tonight. I have reason to kill him just for that.
I circle around the desk, getting down on my hands and knees and pushing the chair to the side so that I can get to the lamp. It seems to have tumbled all the way to the back of the desk.
My hand closes around the metallic gold lampshade, but when I pull it, the cord gets stuck in the corner, wedged underneath the desk like it snaked itself there just to piss me off.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter, yanking at it to get it to come loose.
The sound of the bookshelf turning doubles the strength of my anxious attempts to unhook the lamp cable from underneath the desk. It finally comes loose, sending me toppling backward into the base of the chair.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Diavolo’s deep voice rumbles.
I spring to my feet, lamp in hand, desperately trying to adjust my outfit so that it hides my breasts. It doesn’t make much of a difference, though, because my nipples are already quite visible. “I-I was picking up the lamp,” I stammer.
Diavolo frowns, his eyebrows thick and dark over his pale grey eyes. “You weren’t nosing around in my stuff, were you?”
I shake my head, my cheeks turning hot under his cruel gaze. “No, I would never do that. I live to serve the Devil’s King–”
Diavolo jumps toward me, his hand clamping down on my wrist from across the desk. “Don’t play games with me,” he growls, his nose wrinkling as he speaks. He yanks me closer to him, bending me over the desk. “Tell the truth.”
“I am telling the truth,” I insist. I glance up at the cameras. “You can watch the security footage.”
He squints at me, keeping me in place for what feels like an eternity before releasing his hand. “You’re finished cleaning,” he says coldly. “Put some real clothes on, and we’ll go to the shipyard.”
“I don’t have real clothes,” I reply softly.
He glares at me. “I’ll have someone bring them up. Until then, I want you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” I say, tilting my head to the side with mock innocence.
He smirks. “Rub my shoulders. It’s been a rough couple of days, and I need to unwind.”
I could think of other ways to help him unwind, but I don’t want to give him any ideas just yet. Even if I did manage to seduce him into a vulnerable position, his office isn’t the place I want to do this in. There’s no real privacy, and the cameras are everywhere.
“Come, sit in your chair,” I say, placing the lamp down on the table and waving a hand over the black leather.
Diavolo punches a message into his phone, then slinks forward, showing no shyness in his attempts to get closer to me. I wonder what his deal is, why he’s being so hot then cold in such a short span of time. I’ve been awfully consistent in my act, but he hasn’t.
He falls down into the chair, the scent of his shower soap filling the space between us within seconds. I take a deep breath, enjoying the effect it has on me. I’m not sure who’s going to benefit from this massage more – him or me.
I place my hands on his broad shoulders, examining his thick brown hair as I lean over him. I’ve never wanted to kill a man and enjoy him so much at the same time, but Diavolo has that effect on me. I hate him, but he makes me feel something weird inside of my stomach, something arousing.
He lets out a sigh as I work my thumbs into his large muscles. “God, I needed this,” he moans, rolling his head forward.
I clamp my legs together, trying to keep my thoughts serious as he lets out grumbling moans. I hated him before, and now I hate him even more because of the way he makes me feel. I shouldn’t be horny, but my lace panties are quickly getting damp from the way he’s vocalizing his pleasure.
I lean forward, pressing my breasts against the back of his neck as I rub his shoulders. My nipples are stiff, and it feels good to have the heat of his body on them. I thought the warmth would flatten them out, but they get even harder, almost painfully so.
Diavolo rolls his head back, landing squarely between my breasts. He looks up at me. “You’re an interesting woman.”
I’m not sure how to take that, so I just roll with it. “And you’re an interesting man,” I reply.
He smirks. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“I’d like to,” I reply without thinking.
He springs up from the chair, turning to face me and staring me down. “Sexual relationships with other members of the Devil’s Kingdom are forbidden,” he snaps.
I laugh. “So why do you have me dressed like a whore?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Because I enjoy it.”
“Seems risky,” I reply.
“I’m a risk-taker,” he says. “Are you?”
I shrug. “It depends on the risk.”
He steps back, making no effort to hide that he’s adjusting his erection with one hand. He wants me to see it. He wants me to know that he’s dying to have me, but once he does have me, he’ll be dying. I’ll make damn sure of that.
“I will always follow the rules of the Devil’s Kingdom,” I inform him. “Unless you say otherwise.”
He chuckles. “I like you.”
“I like you too.”
“Well, I don’t value feelings here,” he says, pulling a cigar from his suit jacket. “I value obedience and skill.”
“I have both,” I reply.
He lights up his cigar with a silver lighter, taking his time with it as he rolls the dark tobacco over the flame. He looks up at me as he does it. “We’ll see about that.”
I’m not sure why he feels the need to continually challenge and test me, but I’m good at playing his games. I’ve jumped through a thousand hoops to get here, so what’s a few more when the prize is dressed up in a suit, standing a few feet in front of me?
Diavolo looks up at me again. “I do like this outfit of yours, but you can’t wear it to the shipyard.”
I nod. “I agree.”
He turns toward the door. “Someone should be bringing something soon, but they’re awfully slow.”
The door swings open, and a thick man with a spotty grey beard waddles in. “Clothes for the woman,” he grunts, holding out a neatly folded pile.
Diavolo jumps forward, taking them from the man and holding them out to me. “Put these on.”
The thick man lingers at the door, his eyes glued to my barely-covered body.
Diavolo turns back to him, frowning. “Get out of here,” he barks.
The thick man hurries out the door, looking over his shoulder at me as he goes. I feel like a spectacle for everyone in the Devil’s Kingdom. If I took this position seriously, I wouldn’t be so happy about it, but I know I’ll be done with this soon. I’m not here to stay and end up like Olesya.
I put the new clothes on over my current outfit, wiggling into a formal skirt and black jacket while Diavolo puffs on his cigar next to the desk. He watches me closely as I get dressed, but I need to get used to that. He won’t take his eyes off me until he trusts me, and it might be a while until that happens.
“Let’s go,” Diavolo says the moment I’m decent. He pushes open the door, finally allowing me out into the open air again.
I’m right back where I was a week ago, but this time, I’m so close to my goal that I can smell it, and it smells like leather, smoke, and sex.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Diavolo
The air today is damp and thick, with so much salt in the air that you can taste it on your tongue while you breathe, but it’s warmer than it was yesterday. I walk through the dense mist with Zella close beside me, taking each stride with confidence as we approach the shipyard.
Normally, everyone in the Devil’s Kingdom is required
to be armed. I’m carrying several guns myself, but I’ve chosen to forego giving Zella a weapon. I’m concerned about my safety around her, and until I get to the bottom of why she’s here, I won’t feel comfortable having her run around without my eyes on her at all times.
I can’t say that I don’t enjoy watching her either.
I take a few short drags of my cigar as we cut through the mist toward the shipyard, turning my head toward Zella. “We had a cargo ship disappear in the middle of the ocean the other day,” I tell her. “We’re going to talk to the captain of one of our other ships about it.”
“A cargo ship?” she asks, “Aren’t those pretty big?”
“They’re huge,” I reply, “Which is why this concerns me. It’s not the first time this has happened either.”
“Are you concerned that the feds might have gotten involved?” she asks.
“Doubtful. We’re on their radar, but they’re not sinking boats for fun.”
“What about pirates?”
“That’s a possibility, but we also don’t carry the drugs on those cargo ships.”
“We don’t?”
I smile. “No. All the manufacturing is done right here on the port.”
She’s confused, judging by her wrinkled nose and blinking eyes. “But then what are the cargo ships for?”
“That’s a secret,” I reply.
“Oh, come now. You won’t even give me a hint?” she asks, looking up at me with wide eyes.
I chuckle. “You’re my personal assistant. There’s nothing about the cargo that you need to know.”
She shrugs, trying to play it off. “I was just curious.”
But is she curious, or are her questions indicative of a desire to undermine the organization? I have plenty of time to figure it out, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s even worth it. Maybe I should send her to the ocean floor.
“I love the ocean,” Zella says, as though she can read my mind.
I nearly choke on my own spit. “Um, why is that?”
“It’s relaxing,” she says, looking up at me again. “Don’t you think so?”