Mae

I received a momentary reprieve from my panic attack when I saw Azrimin stand. He would get us out of there before Clinton came in and caught us. But instead, he only slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, a satisfied expression filling his face. “You’re gonna get in trooouuble,” he sing-songed.

“Real mature,” I huffed, then raced my gaze around the room. “Shit!” I turned back to him, a desperate plea in my eyes.

“Unless, of course, you want me to do something about it?” For the devil he was damn good at looking innocent, but I wasn’t about to fall for it.

“Nice try.” I shook my head, then grabbed his hand, pulling him toward a small closet on the other side of the office. Quickly but quietly, I pulled the door closed behind us just as Clinton stepped into the room we’d just been in. Fuck, I mouthed to Azrimin.

He nodded but didn’t have an ounce of concern in his expression.

The closet was a tight squeeze, since Clinton had recently moved in a bunch of unnecessary junk, which meant Azrimin and I were so close our bodies brushed against each other with the slightest of movements. I flushed at the contact but more so, from having his eyes locked onto mine. Thank goodness for the darkness. Still, I felt like I had to hold my breath to keep our chests from touching. “Thanks for nothing, by the way,” I whispered.

“You’re the one in charge…” he whispered back.

This was almost as bad as having a stepbrother. “Why don’t you disappear for a while?” I said, averting my eyes to the door.

Azrimin let out a quiet chuckle, and the rumble of it in his chest brought my gaze back to him. The humanness of it, caused my pulse to quicken, but I told myself it was only the dire situation.

“No thanks.” He shrugged. “This is more fun.”

When he winked, my skin flushed with heat. But this wasn’t the time to get caught up. It would never be time for that, Mae… So, I furiously pressed a finger against his shoulder and nudged him back. “Why are you like this?” I hissed.

With his brows lifted as if I should already know the answer, he gestured to himself and said plainly, “Devil.” Then he bent forward, somehow getting even closer, and added, “Am I making you nervous, dear sweet Mae?”

Even though his tone was teasing, it didn’t sit well with me how easily he was able to affect me. Could devils put spells on you? We both saw this as a business deal, so why did he continue to press the boundaries? My boundaries. Not to mention my buttons…

I had to show him who was in charge, that nothing would get in the way of my plans. And that meant I would refuse to back away; instead, I lifted up my chin defiantly, looking as unbothered as I could muster. “No.”

Azrimin inched closer, dipping his head so his lips were just a breath away from mine before whispering, “Really?

***

All I could do was shake my head the tiniest bit. Well, and note that he did, as he’d claimed, have minty fresh breath. I briefly hoped mine was as well, but only out of professional courtesy…

Azrimin shifted—is he going to… In a panic, I whipped my hand up, pressing my palm against his mouth before he could make contact with mine. It was a ridiculous sitcom-worthy visual when Azrimin’s eyes widened with mirth. But all humor left the scene when I felt him press the kiss against my palm. His lips were soft and warm… Stop thinking about his lips.

I almost gasped when I snatched my hand away. The man was insufferable. And beginning to be more work than reward. I was about to push him aside when Clinton’s voice cut into the closet, loud and clear despite the door between us.

“Julian, you son of a bitch. You sent us your D-list girls yesterday. What the fuck is up with that?”

My face screwed up with disgust, and even Azrimin’s lip bumped up in a snarl. I’d known Clinton was kind of an asshole, but he’d always felt mostly harmless. But with each passing day, the evidence was piling up that he was an evil, misogynistic piece of shit.

Clinton went quiet while the other person on the phone spoke to him, and then he exploded. “Listen, I’m one of the most powerful people in the city now. I want girls that are suited to this status.”

Azrimin rolled his eyes.

My thoughts exactly. Any man who has to tell you what he is, isn’t really the thing he claims. Clinton was pathetic, but sadly, he had one thing right—he had the power.

“If you fuck up again,” he continued, “I’ll end you. Wait—fine, I’m getting another call. Don’t forget what I said.” There was a brief pause, and my shoulders slumped in defeat. Why didn’t I let Azrimin get us the hell out of here? Of course, he could leave any time, but I was stuck…listening to Clinton’s bullshit.

When I heard Clinton’s voice again, and his tone was much softer when he said, “Hey, Mom,” I almost gasped but instead pressed a hand against my mouth to stifle it.

Azrimin fought back a grin but then moved closer until his lips were right next to my ear, whispering, “Can you taste me?”

What the— I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly, then as my brain tried to make sense of his words, understanding hit—he was referring to moments ago when he’d pressed a kiss into the palm of my hand, which I now had pressed against my own mouth. Leave it to the devil to get creative and use it to his advantage. “No, shut up,” I hissed back, yanking my hand down.

Azrimin just quietly laughed.

***

I had to force myself to ignore Azrimin’s antics. This was my chance to get more info on Clinton, so I focused on his conversation with my stepmother.

There was a minute of silence, which I assumed was Harriett talking—or maybe more likely, lecturing. She often talked to Clinton like he was still a boy, maybe because he acted like one. Finally, Clinton said, “No. She won’t be there. Do not invite her to the dinner, Mom, I mean it. Mae doesn’t deserve to go to these things. She’s never deserved it.” His voice got angrier and louder with every word, like he was on the verge of losing it. Was he really that threatened by me even now he was the chosen one?

“Just because she has the same last name as Joseph, she thought she’d get to run his company?” He let out a maniacal chuckle. “Bullshit. She doesn’t have the balls for it.”

As I shook my head and fumed, I felt Azrimin’s hand on the small of my back. When I turned my gaze up to him, he was shaking his head, as if he knew it was taking everything in me not to throw the door open and wrap my hands around Clinton’s neck.

I’d worked twenty times harder than he ever had. I’d been the one there, working nights and weekends while he slept in and partied. I had always been the one Dad turned to when he needed a partner for a project. Me. Not that buffoon out there. What had Clinton ever done other than dick around and spend my dad’s money while pretending to work? The only reason he kept his job was because of Mommy dearest. The unfairness of it all was astounding.

Clinton was quiet again for a few long moments, until I heard him say, “Fine. Whatever, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.” Then there was a loud crashing sound—I pictured Clinton’s phone flying across the room and hitting the wall. Is he really so pissed if I go to some dinner? Jesus, what a child.

Azrimin’s hand was still on my back and he moved it to my shoulder before managing to shift so he was behind me. Adding his other hand to my other shoulder, he whispered, “I’m sure that was hard to hear. He thinks so little of you, and now he’s in the job you should have gotten…and fucking it up.”

If he was trying to rile me up harder it was working, despite Azrimin’s fingers massaging the kinks out of my shoulders. How fucking dare Clinton?

I closed my eyes and tried to center myself, focus on Azrimin’s hands kneading my muscles, relaxing my body and somehow sharpening my focus.

Almost as if timing it perfectly and reading my mind, Azrimin leaned down and said softly in my ear, “So…now you want me to do something about it?”

Without hesitation, I turned my head to the side, met his gaze, and said, “Do it.”