There he is.
I started towards Devlin as fast as I could move on high heels, but he was walking faster than I was and he had the lead. When I finally turned the corner and caught sight of him again—I witnessed something I didn’t expect. I watched him walk over to the lead dancer, the one who had played Sleeping Beauty, and pull her close for a kiss. My jaw fell open—I felt my legs turning to jelly. He was involved with someone else—and it wasn’t the woman I saw him with the night we went for ice cream. He said she meant nothing—just a friend. It was clear the woman his lips were crushing was more than a friend.
“Excuse me, miss. I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here.” One of the dancers walked up and put her hand on my arm.
“Sorry, I must have gotten lost.” I didn’t look at her—I just stared at the horrifying sight in front of me.
“Ah, don’t tell me you’re one of Devlin’s girls.” She chuckled under her breath. “He’s quite popular.”
“I’m sorry.” My head finally turned—and it turned in a snap. “One of his girls?”
“Let’s just say he won’t be going home alone tonight—nor will she be the only one he leaves with.” She gave me a wink. “I had the pleasure once—he’s something else.”
Oh my god.
“I need to go.” I turned and started walking back towards the door.
I truly meant nothing to Devlin. I was just some child that was obsessed with a fantasy—one that was never real to begin with. I had him on a pedestal and he didn’t deserve one. I wouldn’t have been mad if he was dating someone, but—he was just like Steven Hawthorne. One woman wasn’t enough to satisfy or please him. He wasn’t looking for love, he was just looking for a fuck. I couldn’t believe I had fallen head over heels for a man—no, he wasn’t a man. He really was the devil.
“There you are.” Annie came running up as I walked back into the main part of the theater. “Are you crying?”
“I want to go home.” I swallowed hard and blinked away my tears.
“Here.” She took the handkerchief from my hand and tried to wipe my eyes.
“No!” I grabbed the handkerchief and tossed it on the ground. “I don’t want to be touched by anything that he’s had his filthy hands on!”
“I’m sorry, Violet.” She put her arm around me and we walked to the car. “I never wanted to tell you this, but I can see you’re hurting.”
“What is it?” I looked over at her as we entered the car.
“Devlin Windsor is not the man you think he is.” She exhaled sharply. “I know you’ve had this—crush on him.”
“Obviously, that was a mistake.” My words came out through clenched teeth as my sorrow turned to anger.
“Yes, and I’m sure it’s a lot worse than you realize. There are stories—stories about the girls he takes back to his place—the thing she does to them.” Her nose wrinkled and she shuddered. “You’re lucky you dodged that bullet, trust me.”
I would have run towards the bullet, and probably kept running when it went through my heart—but he doesn’t want me. I guess it’s for the best.
“Yeah.” I nodded, not saying a single thing that was actually on my mind.
“It’s worse than that though—that isn’t why they call him the devil.” She swallowed hard.
“Oh?” I tilted my head inquisitively, but it was just a reaction—all I felt was numb.
“He summons people to his estate because he wants to make a deal, and my father says nobody ignores one of his invitations.” She looked down for a moment before continuing, as if she was afraid to tell me the rest. “He’s making big moves in the business world—and none of his deals are fair, but people are afraid of him.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I shook my head back and forth. “He’s—harmless.”
Unless he’s taking a swing at your heart—those hits don’t miss.
“He’s not harmless Violet. He’s far from harmless. Just hope that you never end up getting a letter in a blank envelope—written in crimson ink. That’s when you know the devil wants to make a deal, and he’s definitely going to take your soul.” She sighed.
I would have gladly sold it to him—but now I know better. Devlin Windsor—or the devil—whatever he wants to call himself.
He’s dead to me.TwelveDevlinPresent time, 1 week later“Mr. Windsor?”
I raised my eyes from the contract I’d been poring over to find my maid, Belle, standing awkwardly between the doors of my office.
“I said not to disturb me,” I barked. “What is it now?”
“I’m sorry, M-Mr. Windsor,” she stuttered. “I thought you’d want to hear r-right away that you’ve received a response to your letter.”
“Which letter?” I asked, my stomach twisting into knots.
It had been a week.