Page 3 of Wrecked By a Devil

Behind me, Mia is being dragged by another staff member. “I’m sorry…” She mouths as we are both lined up with the other girls on a small stage.

The lights are bright and my heart is still racing from earlier. I can’t even think straight.

“Whatever it is that scared you, try not to think about it,” Mia whispers next to me.

Maybe she’s right, I should just focus on doing what I came here for in the first place. Maybe I should forget about the handsome guy and the chained man and just dance the best I can and get hired. That’s why I came here in the first place, to get a stable income.

My attention goes to the man sitting on the couch on the right, but the stage lights are too strong for me to notice any of hisfeatures. I assume he’s the one we’ll have to impress in order to get hired.

Why did I ever think I could do this?

I wipe the sweat off my hands on the tiny skirt, hoping the guy won’t notice how out of it I am.

As we’re being introduced, I notice another figure joining the first guy, but he’s walking strange.

Are they looking for me?

“And now, we present to you the future of Eden!”

The music starts.

CHAPTER TWO

Ezekiel

My brother has been waiting for me to start the auditions and when I finally join him on the couch, I have to sit down slowly, like a fucking 80-year with bad knees. Any wrong or sudden move results in a sharp reminder of the kick.

Wait until I have a word with you.

I’m still fuming after the encounter I had with that girl earlier. Not only did she wander somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be and witness me beating that guy senseless, but she also dared to kick me in the balls. No one kicks Ezekiel Kavanagh in the balls without paying for it.

“Is everything okay?” Malachi says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Did the questioning go wrong?”

“It got us nowhere,” I try to make myself comfortable by spreading my legs and leaning forward but it doesn’t do much to ease the discomfort. “The guy doesn’t have a clue about who hired him. He doesn’t even know anyone above him.”

“So he just followed orders like a dog?” Malachi doesn’t even try to hide the disgust in his voice.

“Yeah, apparently he was in it for some easy cash,” I nod. “But don’t think I’m going to let him off so easily.”

“Never thought you would.” My brother, knowing me a little too well, hands me a cigarette and lights it up for me. “What the hell happened to you? You look like a car ran you over.”

Instead of answering, I give him a warning look and he backs off immediately. Malachi might be my advisor and strategist, as well as the second hand of the Kavanagh family, but he knows his place. Not even he gets to cross the line with me.

It’s one of the advantages of being the head of the Kavanagh family. Ever since I took over, the fear and the respect people have been showing me has been nothing short of amusing.

Nonetheless, every now and then, the thought of what life would look like if I hadn’t been born a Kavanagh slips in. Or if my parents were still alive and the crown hadn’t landed on my head.

But it’s useless.

The dead stay dead and there’s nothing anything can do about it. Being the head of one of the most feared Irish-American crime families in the city means that the city knows my name. And not just that, people fear me and they bend over backwards to please me. They show me respect and no one dares to even look at me in the wrong way. I have people doing the dirty work for me, even though I don’t hesitate to get my hands dirty when necessary. And right now, all I’m able to think about is how I made a mistake and allowed that girl to humiliate me.

The music starts and the first girl starts dancing. Objectively, she’s very good looking and knows her way around the pole. Her act ends quickly and the next one comes on stage immediately. Malachi writes something down in his notes.

I should be focusing on the performance and evaluating each girl alongside Malachi, but my head is in a different place entirely. It doesn’t help that the girls are far from the standard that we’re looking for, making it even harder for me to focus on their dance.

“They’re missing the spark,” I say and my brother nods.

“I liked the first one,” Malachi shares his notes with me and I see that he’s been scribbling down ratings for each girl and their performance. “But she doesn’t have the stage presence we’re looking for here.”