Page 18 of Devil’s Promise

I heard our father say once that Axel was the bastard of some famous athlete. Maybe basketball.

Axel’s thing is cars, though, and he can drive like no one I’ve ever met. It’s like he sees the road before it even appears.

Rush must mute the phone, because it’s dead silent for way too long. But when he comes back on the line, he’s firing off a series of digits. “That’s my number. Text me the details.”

I scribble them down, hanging up the phone with a satisfied smile.

My brothers can doubt me all they like, but I am making the right choice. Marrying Promise was a good idea.

And they had better get on board, because I’m moving up in the world and I’m dragging them with me.

“Don’t look so pleased,” Knox spits. “You can chum up to all the powerful men you want. They all play on the other side of the line. The good side. Even they can’t help you with Vincent and you fucking know it. You’re worrying about all the wrong shit.” He pounds the table with his massive fist to articulate his point.

I shake my head. “There is short game and long game.” But he’s not wrong. Vincent is a big fucking problem right now, that not even Don Winthrop or Rush Smith can fix. That’s got to be all me.

I need money and power to stand a chance.

A soft knock sounds at the door.

“Come,” I bark out, irritated my brothers aren’t seeing more of the picture. I’m right and I’m tired of being underestimated.

Candy enters, her shock of orange hair reflecting brightly even in the dim light. She changes the color every few weeks, some personal statement.

She’s pretty enough but she’s got trouble tattooed all over her. From her hair to her very checkered past that includes a homicidal ex, she wreaks of complicated.

It’s why she works here. Not only do I pay her, but I house her in the building. Otherwise, I could never attract someone as talented as her at a strip club. But it also means she does what I ask when I ask it. And that’s how I like it.

“Job’s done as requested.”

“Good,” I answer with a grunt. “She complied?”

“Easy peasy,” Candy answers. “And honestly, I think you’ll be pleased. Goldilocks has got the prettiest—” Candy stops, looking around the table.

Some of the girls try to shower me or my brothers with their attention. Maybe they like power, or perhaps they like trouble. We’ve got plenty of both. But not Candy. She skirts the edges of this club, which I think is a point in her favor.

“Finish,” I bark out, my patience thin today.

She draws in a breath, giving another skeptical look at the group before she continues. “As a woman who’s waxed a lot of P, she’s got the prettiest kitty I’ve ever seen.”

Then Candy spins and flees the room, her orange hair trailing behind her.

“Pretty kitty?” Rock spits. “Can’t you just fuck one of the whores already?”

I snort. “Your dick is going to fall off if you’re not careful.”

That draws a snicker from some of the boys. They all have different rules about the strippers, who are really prostitutes. I don’t get involved.

But it’s Gunner who stops laughing first. “Just so long as you’re not thinking with yours.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“A pretty kitty can be a real distraction,” Axel answers for him, his sharp jaw flexing as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “Especially when it’s attached to big blue eyes and curves made for sin.”

I push up from my chair, glaring down at them. “You think I’m going to get pussy-whipped? That Promise isn’t part of a larger plan? When have you ever known me to lose it for a woman?”

Silence meets my words. Because they know I’m right.

But then Gunner cracks his knuckles. “It’s just that she’s some other level of pussy. The kind we can’t usually access.”