𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

23

We're waiting in the car outside of a shady looking club, where this party is supposed to be happening. I smooth my hands nervously over my dress.

"Alright, Cat," Damien says, his voice all rough and business-like. "You're gonna go in there with Rome."

I nod, already slipping into the headspace. Let him underestimate me, see only what he wants to see - a smoking hot babe down for whatever.

"Your target is Andras," Damien reminds me.

Damien pulls out a photo and my breath catches in my throat. I'd know that sick fucks face anywhere- he tried to kill my baby; kicked my pregnant belly until I bled.

Rage sears through me, stealing my breath. Damien must see the look on my face because his hand closes over mine, squeezing hard.

"I know," he says in a soft tone meant just for me. " I want to gut him myself. But we gotta play it cool for now, you hear me?"

I give a jerky nod, sucking in deep breaths to try and bring myself back under control.

"Good," Damien praises roughly. "Now here's what I need you to do. Get Andras' attention, by any means necessary. Let him get a taste, make him think he's actually got a chance of bagging you."

I shudder in disgust but keep nodding, hanging on his every word like always.

"Once he's led you off somewhere more private..." Damien hands me a little Ziplock bag filled with fentanyl. "You know what to do with this."

But I'm already shaking my head, pushing the bag away. "I don't need that."

Instead, I reach beneath the seat and pull out the small gun with the suppressor already attached that Rome had prepped for me. "I'm putting this right between his fucking eyes," I say, loading the gun, and carefully tucking it into the holster strapped high on my inner thigh, concealing it under my dress.

Damien's nostrils flare, his eyes full of obvious lust. "You're something else, you know that?

I don't bother responding, I just tap out a few Xannies from the bottle and throw them back dry.

"Ten bullets, that's all you get."

I nod and lean across the console to give Damien a sloppy kiss. "See you soon, babe. Don't wait up."

Then I'm climbing out of the car, my game face firmly in place as Rome comes around to escort me inside.

Showtime.

I strut into the club, taking shots from my flask. Rome is a silent presence at my side, his hand resting casually on the weapon concealed beneath his jacket.

The bouncers at the door don't even give us a second glance as we breeze past - probably too busy drooling over my cleavage. I doubt anyone would recognize me right away like this anyway, with all this makeup on. The dim lights of the club only add to the disguise.

I can feel Rome peel off to linger in the shadows as I weave my way through the crowd, making a beeline for the bar that borders the VIP sections. My eyes instantly find Andras, lounging on a sofa surrounded by his scumbag crew.

I walk up to the bar, putting an extra swing in my hips. Catching the bartender's eye, I lean over and order a top-shelf margarita - something strong and citrusy.

As I wait for my drink, I glance over my shoulder, knowing exactly where Andras is lounging. Our eyes meet across the smoky haze of the club, the dim lights and music fading away until it's just the two of us locked in a heated stare.

I've got his undivided attention now--smirking to myself, I turn back to accept my margarita from the bartender.

Men are so fucking easy; I think with a silent scoff.