Devil Mine: Part 1 – Chapter 11
Devil Mine: A Dark Cartel Romance (London Underworld Book 1)
I prowl the dark hallways of her house, one floor at a time, checking every room and passing four guards stationed at each level of the home along the way. Noble didnât used to keep so much full-time security at his private residence. He must have hired them after our little talk at his office.
Iâm flattered.
They make no move to stop me, all of them seasoned enough to know that would be a losing battle.
I finally track Tess down. Sheâs not cowering in her bedroom as I expected. In fact, sheâs not hiding at all. Sheâs standing at the end of the hallway on the fifth and final floor, staring out of the porthole window at the pouring rain.
Moving within the shadows, I approach quietly. I know I donât make a sound but Tess must feel the shift in the air because I see the moment she knows Iâm here. Her shoulders tense and her neck straightens.
She whips around, fury and betrayal and heartache stamped on every feature of her face. Her cheeks are dry, no sign of tears in sight. Sheâs incandescent with rage but fully in control of her emotions.
I hadnât planned on defiling her until she was officially my wife, but her irate expression is making me question all my carefully laid plans. I want to wipe the sneer off her lips by shoving my dick down her throat. Ending my celibacy by hate fucking my fiancée is exactly what the doctor ordered. I can feel the muscles in my neck loosening just thinking about it.
âStay away from me,â she hisses. âI meant what I said back there. I wonât marry you and you canât force me to.â
How little she seems to know about my world.
âOf course I can. And I will. I have no problem dragging you kicking and screaming down the aisle if thatâs what itâs going to take. In fact, I might just prefer it. Iâve always liked the fight.â
I prowl closer to her, keeping my movement progressive so she doesnât see me approach.
This time, her voice does shake.
âWhy are you doing this?â
Her lower lip trembles slightly and I find myself wanting to lean forward and bite it.
âI told you; you caught my attention.â
She gapes at me. âSo, you force a marriage between us?â
Her eyes track my tongue as it darts out to moisten my lips.
âIt was the only way I could have you.â
Tess crosses her arms and tips her chin up at me. âIâd rather throw myself out of this window than marry you.â
âDramatic,â I quip drolly.
Her eyes flash with anger. âYou think this is funny?â
âI think this is wholly unnecessary. Youâre wasting your breath and my time throwing a tantrum that I do, in fact, find very amusing. Youâre lucky I seem to have developed patience and a sense of humor where youâre concerned, amor, Iâm not famously known for having either. But this only ends one way, no matter how much you fight me â with my ring on your finger and you warming my bed.â
Her eyes widen enough that I can see how her pupils dilate. As much as she wants to deny it, her body is far more agreeable to my proposal than her mind is.
âYou disgust me.â
âSo, youâve claimed.â
âYou have no moral code, no ethics,â she continues, undeterred. âYou ruin peopleâs lives for the fun of it. Your world is nothing but pain and death and you revel in it. Iâve seen it. Seen how you toy with people just because you can.â
I laugh at that, a dark sound that rattles up my throat, and creep even closer. Sheâs less than a foot away from me now but so angry that she doesnât notice I have her trapped in a dark corner with no escape.
This close, I can smell her perfume again. Itâs intoxicating. The scent is so much moodier than she is with her pink clothes and soft eyes and blonde hair. Itâs complicated. Layered. Spicy, like the personality she reveals when sheâs around me.
Iâve been watching her. Sheâs a good girl when Iâm not there. Goes to work, does what sheâs told, smiles when sheâs being belittled. Itâs only when she goes toe to toe with me that the spark comes out.
Her attitude intrigues and amuses me, itâs why I let her speak to me the way she does.
Iâd have slit the throat of any other long ago.
Her chest heaves with the angry breaths she drags in. I want to bite those lips until they bleed. Maybe Iâll have my last name tattooed on the bottom one since sheâs so repelled by the thought of wearing it.
âGet your head out of your SWOT analyses and spreadsheets and into real life, Tess. Thereâs a very real game of thrones thatâs fought in every single city in the world, and Iâm a player in it, just as you are. For every white knight, thereâs a black one. Where thereâs good, thereâs evil lurking right beneath the surface. Thatâs the checks and balances of humanity. Thatâs how the world works. Iâm a facilitator of the Underworld, not its creator. That darkness exists whether Iâm involved in it or not, I just happen to master it.â
I reach up and hook a strand of her hair around my finger, still not touching her otherwise. With every passing minute, Iâm losing the remaining grip I have on my control.
âI am a criminal, a villain, a monster. The devil. Iâm proud of it. Itâs who I am, itâs in my blood, itâs a goddamn physical craving that I feed every single fucking day. Power and influence and crushing anyone whoâs in my way, those are the only things that matter to me. But now thereâs you,â I growl. âAnd youâre a distraction. I donât know why, I donât understand it, but I donât need to understand it to take you simply because I can. Simply because I want to. So I am. I donât care what you think of me and I donât give a fuck how much you fight this, because now youâre mine. Whether you want to be or not. You should be thanking whatever god you believe in that itâs me who wants you â that Iâll do anything to have you â and not anybody else. Or would you prefer I leave you to that pervert who groped you on the dance floor?â
Tessâs eyes ping rapidly between mine, caught off guard by my diatribe. Her head is tilted back to look up at me. I pin her against the wall and bring my face down until mere inches separate it from hers. I note how her breath hitches, how her pulse jumps on the side of her neck. I note how my hands shake with the need for this fix.
âThe only thing that separates me from people like your father is that Iâm honest about my quest for power at any cost. Thatâs it,â I tell her, my voice dropping an octave. âYouâre being naive if you think your multibillion-dollar company, your perfect house and fancy cars can exist without what I do. The white elites have convinced themselves that theyâre the righteous simply because their oppression of people happens via the confines of legitimate business and not out in the open or on the streets. But weâre two sides of the same coin, you and I. One canât exist without the other.â
Tess puts both palms on my chest to shove me, but she hesitates the moment she touches me. I use that split second to press against her, molding my body to her curves.
âUnderneath the pristine exterior of your life, can you really say your world is any different than mine?â I murmur, bending until my face hovers right above the crook of her neck. âYour father beats your mother. He sold you to me to cover his gambling debts. Iâd say that his morals and those precious ethics you want to lord over me are just as pitch black as mine. You can see that for the truth that it is or continue to bury your head in the sand, thatâs up to you. Like I said, your opinion of me doesnât weigh in the balance here.â
I curl a finger inside the high neck of her sweater and slowly pull it down and away from her skin. Her heartbeat is racing, galloping dementedly at her throat.
âNow tell me,â I purr, âdo you always wear pink?â
Itâs irresistible, unstoppable even, the need I have to finally touch her. Iâve waited long enough. It feels like years when itâs only been weeks.
So I finally, finally, lean in and take it.
My tongue moves past my lips and makes contact with the now exposed skin of her collarbone. I groan loudly and she shudders in response, making my hard cock throb.
I yank her collar further down, satisfied when I hear fabric rip. And then I run my tongue from her collarbone and up, slowly and deliciously up, until I find the soft spot behind her ear. Iâm assaulted by dangerously unhinged thoughts and cravings of cannibalism as she hits my taste buds with an explosion of flavor. Itâs like the experience of having pop rocks for the first time â surprising, confusing, addicting, and it immediately has you going back in for more.
Before I can go further, a hand grabs my shoulder and yanks me backwards. I was so absorbed by her that I didnât even feel the person creeping up on us. She dulls my senses, murdering my honed survival skills with just one look. Sheâs fucking dangerous.
And Iâm fucking furious weâve been interrupted.
âGet your hands off Miss Noble,â a voice grunts at me.
My back is to my attacker so I canât see him. Whoever he is, heâs a dead man. His forearm comes against my throat as his other hand holds a knife and swings it straight down towards my face.
Amateur.
I duck under his arm and twist it behind his back, holding him prone. Itâs a fifth security guard. I should have known to account for him, that thereâd be one assigned to this floor like every other, but I saw Tess and I forgot everything else.
Heâs younger than the others, the poor idiot. They probably put him up here because they thought the risk to him would be minimal. Itâs too bad he has to die, his parents will probably miss him.
I elbow him in the face and take advantage of the fact that Iâve stunned him to grab his other hand and redirect it towards him. I use his hand to plunge his own knife swiftly into his throat.
His blood sprays out of the punctured artery and splashes across my face. Thereâs something satisfying about its warmth. It was pumping dutifully through his veins before he decided to make an enemy of me. Now itâs not.
Tess screams in the background.
The guardâs eyes are wide and startled, staring uncomprehendingly up at me, his hands grasping at the air as he slowly begins to fall. It all happened so fast his brain didnât have time to register that heâd moved from attacker to attacked before the knife was embedded in his throat.
Heâs dead before he hits the floor.