CHAPTER 59: STEALING INNOCENCE

ANNABETH SAINT

Hell, no, I shouldn’t trust him. His so-called bad behavior was more like a permanent character flaw. I would rather die of pneumonia walking in the storm outside, thank you.

I shivered. I’d been standing in place so long, my still dripping clothes had formed a small puddle around me. My skin prickled from the cold air and from the scrutiny of club-goers passing by.

"You are so stubborn." Sean grabbed my wrist, opened the door and dragged me inside.

***|***|***|***|***

DEVON THORNE

I sipped expensive whiskey and thought about the shivering girl who’d begged for my help. Her doe-like eyes, her trembling mouth, her rain-soaked body ... damn it. I didn’t like that her vulnerability had softened his heart. I’d learned to be cold and ruthless because that’s what it took to survive.

That’s what it took to win.

All my planning, my sacrifices, my suffering would finally culminate in getting rid of the Thorne family’s bad seeds. I’d spent years rooting out corruption, building my power and my wealth, and biding my time. Now, I was the CEO of Thorne Industries and would soon be declared the Thorne heir.

But I wasn’t safe yet. I still needed to strengthen my position before I landed the final blow to my greedy uncles. If everything went to plan---and it damned well would---the men who’d conspired to kill my parents would be ousted from the family company and the family tree. They’d spend their rotten lives in jail, and they deserved all the misery coming to them.

I finished his drink and poured another one. My thoughts circled back to the young woman who’d plucked up her courage to meet with the devil. Why did I find her so intriguing?

***|***|***|***|***

ANNABETH SAINT

My heart turned over in my chest as I tried to wrench free of Sean’s grip. The private suite was decadent—plush velvet couches, alcohol-laden tables, blinking lights, and techno-music.

"Like I said, it’s empty." Sean plopped down onto one of the purple velvet couches and waved casually to the raised platform behind him. "The bedroom’s up there, through the door. Take your time. The party doesn’t start for another hour. You’re welcome to stay."

Sean really didn’t seem interested in bugging me.

"I’ll skip the party. I have something else to do." Like throw myself into traffic, I thought darkly. Not that I would. My grandmother needed me, and no matter what my father did, I would get back my mother’s legacy. Rosefield Jewelry belonged to me.

"Whatever." Sean lit a cigarette and then poured himself a drink. After taking a sip, he withdrew his ringing cell phone and put it to his ear. "Oh, hey, baby."

Seeing Sean occupied made me feel a teeny bit safer, so I hurried to the bedroom. I shut and locked the door. Did I dare wash myself? I couldn’t afford to get sick.

This is not your best decision, Annabeth. Still. I decided to risk it, and took the fastest shower possible. I dried off and wrapped the towel around my body. In the closet, I found a dozen or so sparkly party dresses, all super short and low-cut. I’d never worn such an outfit in my life.

After rifling through the clothes, I picked one that had short sleeves. Even so, the garment showed off too much cleavage. It also barely covered my butt. I dug through the pile of high heels. I soon found a pair of silver stilettos that fit my feet. The dress had a built-in bra, and I’d washed and dried my underwear with the blow dryer.

Dressed, I returned to the bathroom and dried my hair. I left it down. My hair was long enough to hit my mid-back. I didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror. Even without make-up, I looked like a party girl.

Well, there was nothing I could do about my current appearance. At least I was clean and dry.

When I returned to the main room, Sean looked over his shoulder. His mouth fell open and his eyes went wide. "Holy shit. You look amazing."

Uncomfortable, I pulled on the skirt. There wasn’t enough material to cover the tops of my thighs, but I tried anyway.

Sean patted the seat next to him. "Sit down and have a drink. Booze will warm you up."

***|***|***|***|***

DEVON THORNE

"Sir." Gibson handed me a tablet. I scrolled through the information about Annabeth Diane Saint. She was the eldest daughter of the Saint family. Her mother died when she was seven. "Why was Annabeth in the hospital for three weeks? She was just a kid."

"The story is that she and her mother went hiking and fell off a cliff. Mom saved the kid before dying."

I felt a pang in my chest. That was rough. "You think there’s more to it?" I asked Gibson.

"If Franklin Saint is involved, it’s likely whatever happened was messier than what he reported. I’m sure witnesses were bribed and stories aligned to fit whatever narrative he created. The rift between him and his first wife was well known. She had the money. He was some mid-management corporate drone. His accomplishments are suspect. He definitely built his wealth and his reputation on the bones of Carol Saint."

I stared at the information. "Wait. Franklin took his wife’s last name?"

"The Saints have generational wealth and a long history of jewelry making. Carol Saint was a genius. The Saint name opens a lot of doors, especially in the jewelry industry."

I continued reading the file. Annabeth’s father married his mistress and moved both her and their illegitimate daughter into the home. Annabeth was constantly bullied and harassed by her so-called family. Yet, she’d stuck it out.

"Wait? She was engaged to my nephew?" I read the quick summary of Annabeth and Sean’s relationship. The only son of my younger, estranged sister, Sean Lee was a worthless slug that spent family money without contributing anything to it.

"This kid doesn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants," I said as I read about my nephew’s shameful history of cheating on his fiancee. He was still at it, too, though his bride had changed to Giselle Saint.

When I went to take the call from my informant, Annabeth had left. I didn’t know why. I hadn’t rejected her. I wanted to help her. But if I did, I had to do it as the King of Hell. I’d spent a lot of time and energy making sure my reputation caused fear and loathing in Ash City.

My conflicted feelings about the red-headed girl couldn’t interfere with my revenge. Not when I was so close to the end game.

"Did you find out where she went?" I asked Gibson.

"I just got the surveillance video." Gibson handed me his phone.

I watched as my nephew grabbed Annabeth’s waist, and I felt anger flush my entire body. The idea of my nephew putting his hands on her made me want to rip off his limbs.

Annabeth slapped his hands away and Sean laughed. After talking for a minute, Sean grabbed Annabeth by the wrist and dragged her into his private club suite.

***|***|***|***|***

ANNABETH SAINT

I glanced at the door, and then at my ex-fiance. I gripped the edge of my skirt. Every cell of my being wanted to leave this room now. "I should go," I said.

"Not even a thank-you?" asked Sean. He showed me a half-full whiskey glass. "One drink, Annabeth. Where’s your gratitude?"

A pit opened in my stomach, but I forced myself to sit next to Sean. He took his coat and draped it over my legs, which was too gentlemanly for him. Foreboding thickened in my belly. "I want a new one," I said. No way would I drink from the cup I hadn’t witnessed him pour.

He rolled his eyes, but grabbed another glass and poured in a healthy dose of amber liquid. "Satisfied?"

I took the drink, and he picked up his. Then he clinked his glass to mine. "To old friends and new beginnings."

What the hell does that mean? I took a large sip of the whiskey. It burned going down, but I did feel warmer. I took another swig. I glanced at Sean, and saw him gloating.

"Wh-what did you do?" I asked, slamming the glass onto the table. My tongue went numb about the same time dizziness assailed me.

"I didn’t spike your whiskey," he said, dragging the coat slowly off my lap. "I painted your glass with an aphrodisiac gel. It’s new in the club scene." He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me onto the couch. "What do you think, baby doll?"

"No!" I wanted to push him away, but my arms felt too weak. I couldn’t even lift them. "Don’t do this, Sean."

"You never let me touch this pristine little body of yours. You think I’m dirty, don’t you?" He bent close to me, his lips grazing my earlobe. "Guess what? You’re gonna be dirty, too."

Sean grabbed my thigh.

I screamed.