Page 58 of Ravaged By a Devil

"He'll be at The Blackwood tonight," Alexis counters immediately, stepping closer to me. "He booked a VIP booth in my section. And he's going to bring his inner circle with him."

My jaw tightens. "All the more reason for you to hand off that section to another waitress."

"No," she insists, her voice rising. "I can take advantage of him while he's distracted. I can get close⁠—"

"Ab-so-lute-ly fucking not," I cut her off, my stomach twisting into a hard knot at the mere thought of her placing herself anywhere near Nolan Devlin without protection.

I turn around and march straight to the driver's side of the car, opening the door. Before I can slide in, Alexis lunges forward and grabs my broad forearm, her small hands digging into my leather jacket.

"Listen to me!" she demands, yanking on my arm to force me to face her. "You can plant a wire on me. An audio bug or a tiny earpiece—whatever. I'll stay assigned to his table the entire night. Everything he whispers, every call he takes, every deal he makes at that booth... I'll hear it, and you'll hear it in real-time."

"I said no, Alexis," I growl, wrenching my arm back. "I'm not putting you in the crosshairs."

"I am already in the crosshairs!" she yells back, her eyes blazing. "Nolan knows who I am, he knows I work there, and staying completely blind puts me in more danger than actually helping you end this!"

"It's too risky!"

"It's the best option you have!"

I say nothing as we both slip into the car. I kick the engine to life and tear out of the industrial lot.

“Not happening, Alexis. Forget it.”

"You listen to me, you stubborn bastard," she snaps, slamming her hand against the dashboard. "I am doing this tonight. With your wire, or without it."

I grip the steering wheel so hard the leather groans under my palms. I glance sideways at her flushed, defiant face, realizing with a cold dread that she isn't bluffing. If I don't supervise this, she'll do something foolish on her own.

A low, defeated growl rips through my throat.

"Fine," I spit, swerving the car into the lane heading toward Eden. "We put a wire on you. But the second—the second—things look bad, I’m pulling you out, and I tear that club apart. Understood?"

Alexis smiles. “Understood.”

I don’t know why the fuck I ever agreed to this.

It’s been two hours, and I am sitting alone in a shadowed booth tucked into the darkest corner of The Blackwood. A crystal tumbler of neat bourbon sits untouched in front of me, condensation dripping down the glass.

My eyes follow Alexis everywhere she moves across the crowded floor. She's dressed in her black waitress uniform, her hair styled, looking so lethal and gorgeous it's driving me out of my goddamn mind.

Elijah fitted her with an imperceptible lapel mic hidden in the seam of her collar and a tiny, skin-toned earpiece tucked behind her ear. Which means I've had to sit here listening to every crude, desperate compliment every drunk bastard in this club has thrown at her since her shift started.

“Looking good tonight, sweetheart.”

“Bring me another drink when you're done looking that fine.”

I press my back against the booth, my jaw clenching so hard my teeth ache. I've known I wanted Alexis from the very first second I laid eyes on her. I knew I wanted to bend her over, strip away that fiery defiance, and fuck her until she couldn't speak. I've done that. I've had her in those woods, made her scream my name until she was breathless.

But she's still in my blood. Worse than before.

Right now, sitting in this dim light, a cold, dark truth hits me squarely in the chest: I don't just want her. I don't want anyone else to even look at her.

She handles every patron with professional grace, flashing smooth, practiced smiles that make my fist tighten into a knot against the leather upholstery. It's pissing me off. Every laugh she gives them, every gentle brush of her shoulder as she sets down a drink—it's pulling a trigger inside my head.

Then, right around ten o'clock, the double doors at the main entrance open.

My pulse slams into overdrive. The ambient noise of the club seems to fade away as Nolan Devlin struts into the room, flanked by his two brothers.

Through the tiny earpiece, I hear Alexis take a long, silent breath.