Annalise searched the room for Mavel. They had to leave now if they wanted to get to Bronze in time.
He stood next to Des who had draped her arm around his waist. Rios’ beast snuggled up to him, pressing her breasts into his arm. She winked at Annalise when she noticed her openly glaring in their direction. With a wide grin and a sashay of her hips, Des pulled Mavel towards Annalise’s desk.
Annalise’s jaw ached. What was he doing letting her cling to him after what happened earlier?
“You could order him to not let her get near him,” a voice in her head suggested. Immediately, she dismissed it. She wasn’t going to throw orders at Mavel just because she hated seeing him next to another woman. With Des, he could have a normal relationship whereas with her it would be constant hiding and pretences.
The duo arrived at her desk. Des separated from Mavel and eyed Annalise’s terminal. A frown surfaced on her face as she stared at the screen.
“Do you see something you like?” Annalise asked, tapping her foot.
“I can’t place it, but it feels as if I’ve seen this man before…”
Unable to hold back her words, Annalise snapped, “What? During one of your evening strolls through the Red District?”
“Anna!” Mavel raised his voice, and she folded her arms.
The fact that he was defending Des made her want to add a couple more colourful terms.
Des smirked. “I wouldn’t go for someone as old as this guy, although I wouldn’t mind getting some action with Mavel here.” She ran her fingers down his chest. “I’ll leave the offer on the table, big boy.” She winked and joined Rios at his desk.
As always, he had his sleeping mask on, oblivious to everything around him.
Mavel tapped Annalise on the shoulder, drawing her attention to him.
She didn’t want to look at him after what happened but had little choice in the matter. So, she schooled her face into a blank. “What is it?”
“Don’t we have to be somewhere? I doubt you were looking for me without a reason.”
Annalise slapped her hand to her forehead. She almost forgot about the meeting with the widow.
In the end, Mrs Fern didn’t know anything about Dawson or his possible connection to Robert. Annalise spent the next two days cursing the responses from Dawson’s lawyers. He wasn’t available for any interviews unless there was conclusive evidence of his involvement, which she still didn’t have.
Without her noticing, Wednesday arrived. Back at her apartment, she pouted. “You want me to wear that to the party?” Annalise pointed to a teal cocktail dress that would hug everything that was dear to her. At least, it had half-sleeves, so her wounded shoulder would remain out of sight.
“You will never get a man if you behave the way you do, Annalise. Put it on and let’s get you ready,” her mother ordered and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her into the bedroom.
Annalise shot a pleading look to Mavel who was reading news articles on his tablet with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He smirked and waved goodbye to her. Traitor.
Her shoulders sagged, and she let her mother help her squeeze into the dress. Regina curled Annalise’s hair, making her shoulder-length raven hair even shorter. She applied make-up Annalise rarely bothered to wear.
Staring at her reflection in the vanity, she made a face. Although disgruntled on the outside, she couldn’t help but wonder if Mavel would find this new appearance attractive.
After putting on a pair of matching heels Regina had procured for her, they left the bedroom to find Mavel gone.
Regina patted her on the head. “There, there, it will only be for tonight. It’s not as if your father asks you to attend every party. Plus, you will have a handsome man at your side.”
She had forgotten about Devlin being her date for the night. “Why exactly is he the one I’m going with?”
Regina smiled. “Don’t look so scared. He is a nice man and a gentleman at heart. It’s hard to find people like him these days. Even your father respects him.”
“And why would he respect someone half his age?”
The doorbell rang, alarming them. Regina unlocked the door, and Annalise held her breath.
Devlin strode into her apartment in a charcoal tuxedo that fitted him to perfection. He wore a pleasant smile, and his blue eyes widened a fraction when he saw her. When her mother turned away, he winked at her.
Is he making fun of me? She didn’t know. Just as she only knew this stranger’s name and the fact he worked for some kind of secret police. As she approached her mother, Devlin offered her his arm.
Annalise eyed it and looped her arm through his.
“It was a pleasure, Mrs Storm,” Devlin said.
“Take good care of her and ignore anything rude that comes out of her mouth, I beg you,” her mother said quickly.
Annalise gaped at her. “I’m not rude!”
Her mother shook her head, and Devlin stifled a laugh. All of a sudden, she wanted to kick him in the shin and let him go to the party without a plus one.
13
A Dance For Information
Divinity’s City Hall was a cultural masterpiece one could ponder about for days. It wasn’t because the dome-like roof was made of solid gold or the fact the architects designed it to be a perfect circle like an ancient Colosseum. Lies and false pretences were the true reasons why she disliked this work of art. It made her question whether these people believed the rubbish they spouted on a daily basis. To this day, she couldn’t understand why her father chose to become a politician. Is there some unknown joy these men and women receive from constant arguing and backstabbing?
Devlin offered her his arm after his red sports car automatically drove off to park.
Annalise accepted it, feeling the muscles beneath her palm rippling. She did her best not to think about it.
He guided her up the steps to the security office where they scanned their wrist comms, confirming their invitations. With a flash of a smile to the staff, he led the way through the marble halls to the grand ballroom. Amidst the gold and dark wood décor, classical music from the nineteenth century was played by the orchestra. Who would have thought the composers of the old would still be popular among the rich and powerful today?
Devlin paused with her at the entrance and studied her as if she were a precious gemstone on display.
“What?”
He leant in and brushed her hair behind her ear. His woody cologne replaced the stench of cigars that the politicians puffed in the corner. “I believe you are the most beautiful woman here tonight.”
Her stomach did a backflip at his whispered compliment. Struggling to keep a straight face, she pressed her lips together. “Then maybe you need to get your eyes tested as I see plenty of beautiful women here.”
He chuckled, leading her through the crowd. Forced pleasantries were shared between the wives of the political opponents. Annalise hoped she wouldn’t need to spend time with them. They never stopped asking about her opinions on shoes or trying to get her to join in on some maddeningly boring venture for media exposure.
A group of people parted for her father to pass. “Annalise, I see that you have arrived.”
She snapped out of her imaginary nightmare just to be pushed into hell itself.
“Devlin, how are you enjoying the evening?” her father asked.
Devlin smiled, and they shook hands. “It is a pleasure to see you, Will, as it is a pleasure to escort your gorgeous daughter today.”
Annalise tried extracting herself from him, but his biceps flexed, keeping her hand trapped between his chest and arm.
Her father’s eyes sparkled with interest, and she could tell he was already planning some kind of deal with her as the bargaining chip.
“I’ll go get something to drink.” Annalise yanked her hand out of Devlin’s hold and walked over to one of the caterers who held a tray full of wine glasses. She selected her glass and, taking one whiff of the fragrant drink, she dow
ned the contents in one mouthful. After she returned an empty glass, she studied her surroundings. She recognised a few politicians her father spent a lot of time with and a couple he cursed behind their backs. Her eyes lingered on a man in an expensive black tuxedo with gelled back light-brown hair. The ends of his locks brushed his shoulders as he spoke animatedly to someone. She squinted—a hint of recognition pricking the back of her mind. His face was hidden, and it bothered her for some reason. Next to him, a shorter, much older man listened carefully to every word. She had no trouble recognising him. He was a spokesperson as well as a pro-modded political activist, James Steinberg.
She headed their way and was stopped by a heavy hand catching her elbow.
“Where are you going?” Devlin asked.
Annalise pointed in the direction of Steinberg, but he and the other man were gone. She manufactured a smile. “I am contemplating the idea of getting into one of those never-ending conversations with these women, you?”
He took her hand and led her away from the ballroom, earning a few curious stares from the gossipmongers.
“Where are we going?” she demanded, trying to balance on her heels.
He didn’t reply and, soon after, they left the party and entered someone’s private office.
Devlin led her to a chair and pointed to it. “Please take a seat, Annalise.”
She crossed her arms. Now he wanted to act like a gentleman after dragging her across the room full of people. “I’ll stand. Thanks.”
Devlin took a seat in the adjacent leather chair. His blue eyes roamed her body as if she was some kind of prize. She couldn’t read what went on behind the half-smirk he wore on his chiselled face. It unnerved her.
“Why are we in here?”
He retrieved a data chip from his pocket. “I believe you may find this interesting. It is important information for your investigation into Dawson.”
Her mouth almost watered at the possibility of getting past those pesky lawyers Dawson surrounded himself with. She closed the distance between them and reached for the chip.
He moved it away. “I have one condition.”
Her eyes narrowed and her excitement shrunk back into its box. “What condition?”
Devlin rose from the chair in one fluid motion and proceeded to tuck one of her curled locks behind her ear. His warm fingers brushed her skin—a simple touch to which she should have had no reaction. Yet, her heart betrayed her by kicking into overdrive.
“Provided you grant me a dance tonight, Annalise,” he said in a husky voice.
Her knees almost gave way from the passion and intensity he filled her name with. She sucked in a breath which was harder to do than she expected when faced with his powerful chest so close to her face. Fighting her indecent thoughts, she managed to maintain eye contact. “Why?”
“I find you intriguing. You are not a typical woman who talks just to sate the need to fill the void.” He lifted her chin. “And your eyes speak to me of your hidden suppressed urges. I love that in a woman.”
She swallowed to dampen her dry throat. He was hitting on her and, for some reason, she couldn’t push him away.
Devlin offered the data chip to her again. “A dance for information, do we have a deal?”
Nibbling on her lower lip, she weighed his offer in her mind. Should she let him get closer to her than he was? Her parents seemed to like him, and she couldn’t find a single fault in the way he acted or talked.
She grabbed the chip out of his hand. “Fine. Let’s dance.”
Devlin smiled, revealing small dimples in his cheeks that she found to be as enthralling as his eyes. He snaked his arm around her waist, and they returned to the ballroom where the conversations about the upcoming modded voting campaign were almost as loud as the music.
He stopped in the middle of the dance floor amidst four other couples who were dancing to the slow melody. Devlin drew her close enough for their chests to brush.
The scent of his cologne took away her worries as he took the lead. As they swayed to the soft undertones of the violin and the soothing melody of the piano, he nudged her closer to him until she could feel his heartbeat. She had to lock her attention on his bowtie because she was afraid he would notice her blushing face. Why did this man bring her such comfort when he was nothing more than a stranger?
Once the song ended, his wrist comms beeped. He sighed and kissed the back of her hand.
“It was a pleasure to dance with you tonight, but I must excuse myself. It would seem I have work to do. It pains me that I did not get a chance to see you home.” He seemed to mean every word. Devlin crossed the room to a dark-skinned man in a navy bespoke suit. They talked in hushed tones, and Devlin’s smile faded. He ushered the man out of the room, and both of them disappeared.
With her date being no longer around, she had a reason to return home. She stole a quick glance at her father. He was deep in conversation with someone. Smirking, she marched towards the way out when someone grabbed her hand and turned her on the spot. Upon impact, she got a face full of a broad chest wrapped in a black tuxedo.
She found Mavel staring back at her and her complaint stuck in her throat. His eyes were brown which meant he was using the black market’s contacts prohibited by the government. If he was caught with them or someone here found out what he was, he would be jailed in an instant.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered so only he could hear.
Mavel moved with the melody, leaving her with no choice but to follow his lead.
“Answer me. Why are you here?”
He let go of her waist and twirled her on the spot. A second later, she was propelled back into his hard body. “I was invited, of course. A friend of my mother’s asked to see me. Why? Did I ruin your date?”
Annalise glowered at him. “You didn’t ruin my date. He left to do some work.”
“So, if he didn’t leave, you would keep clinging to him?”
She scoffed. What right did he have to be jealous after what he did in the office with Des? She pushed him away, separating from his hold. “I am going home.”
As she marched through the ballroom, she heard him calling out her name, but she was too angry to stop. It didn’t take long for him to catch up.
Stupid heels.
They left the building and the cool evening air populated her skin with gooseflesh. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her sides for stray warmth.
Mavel shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, drowning her in the cosy material that almost reached her knees. Even his fleeting kindness didn’t stop her from spearing him with her best death stare. He wasn’t taking the hint or simply chose to ignore it.
He took her hand and guided her down the steps, heading in the direction of the garage.
“I can take a cab,” she said.
He scowled at her. “Stop bickering with me and let me take you home. If you want me to leave afterwards, I will.”
A chill ran through her and it had nothing to do with the cold air. When they entered the garage, darkness engulfed him. She tugged on his sleeve, and he turned towards her. His facial expression was concealed by the shadows.
“Mavel, I don’t want you to leave. You’ve been a part of my life for so long, I can’t imagine it without you. But, you’re right. I cannot sacrifice everything just yet.” Annalise lifted her eyes to meet his, or, at least, she guessed that was where his eyes would have been. The fact she couldn’t see them made her want to pull him an extra inch forwards into the light. “Mavel?”
He cupped her cheek. His touch was pleasant and warm, much like his jacket around her shoulders. “I want to be by your side forever, Anna, but we don’t know where the future will bring us. I just wanted you to know that.”
The heat from his hand vanished, and she mentally battled the need to cling to him.
During the silent drive home, she toyed with the data chip Devlin gave her. The minute they arrived at the apartment, Mavel helpe
d her out of his jacket, and she ran over to the terminal in her room. She let the scanner scan the contents of the chip and a video feed filled her screen.
“What is that?” Mavel asked, joining her.
She jumped in her seat. He must have followed her into her room. Annalise pointed at the data chip. “Devlin said it can help me bring Dawson down.”
His expression hardened, and she activated the video. It must have been shot with a secret camera as the angle the recorded footage was at eye-level rather than from above.
On her screen, a naked woman appeared cuffed to the wall in an all too familiar Millennium Suite of the Macabre club. The woman turned her face towards the camera, and Annalise’s heart fell through her stomach—it was Robert’s beast. Her silver eyes glistened with tears as she struggled to break free.
Dawson smacked her across the face with a police baton. Usually, beast women did not bruise easily, but the force behind his swing left an imprint on her cheek.
Mavel let out of growl. When Annalise glanced over her shoulder, his body radiated pure hatred. His eyes—no longer hidden by the contacts—burned with fire she’d never seen. At the same time, his handsome face contorted with disgust.
Growing nauseated, Annalise faced the screen again and balled her hands in her lap.
“Please, let me go,” Leila pleaded. Her voice was hoarse and raw, possibly from long hours of screaming that no one could hear.
Dawson hit her repeatedly until her screaming turned to whimpers, which was when he took off his shirt.
Annalise paused the feed. Battery acid climbed her throat, but she did her best to think of boring chores to avoid ruining her carpet. After a minute, her stomach settled. She skipped thirty minutes ahead and pressed play.
In the next scene, Leila faced the wall.
How many days was she in there for?
Dawson pulled up his trousers and proceeded to button up his shirt. Annalise heard her voice on the recording and the events played out in the same manner as the night she was shot.
“I am going to kill that bastard,” Mavel said through gritted teeth.
Case: 0 (Annalise Storm Chronicles Book 1) Page 11