Page 22 of The Devil’s Lair

“I have the means.” What kind of person tries to take a child from a mother as loving as Rebecca is with Isla?

“I can’t take your money.”

She’s proud, but in this case, pride will definitely come before a fall. She can’t outrun the law. They’ll find her, and her running will only increase the chances of losing Isla.

“Would you take a job in exchange?”

She narrows her eyes, her suspicion both evident and understandable. “In exchange for what?”

“I need an assistant.” She doesn’t need to know that’s a lie. A white lie told for good reasons.

“That’s kind of you, but I can’t stay in London. I just can’t, Tobias. I’m so sorry.”

“The job comes with accommodation. Somewhere the La Salle’s can’t access either you or Isla.”

“Where’s that? The moon?” The small laugh she emits is brittle, on edge. She’s panicking, and I can’t say I blame her. If I was in her shoes, I’d probably feel the same.

“Oakleigh.”

“What’s that?”

“My home. Well, my family’s home.”

“Your… your home? I can’t stay at your home. I’m sure there isn’t room.”

I almost laugh, but I hold it in. In all likelihood, my amusement at her innocent remark won’t be seen as such by her.

“Oakleigh has over seven hundred rooms. There’s plenty of space. You and Isla can have your own suite.”

Her lips part and she blinks a few times in succession. “Seven hundred rooms?”

“Yes, which means it’s big enough that you won’t even have to see me outside of working hours if you don’t want to. I should mention that I’ve lived there my whole life and I still get lost sometimes. I recommend breadcrumbs or sticking Post-its to the wall.” I grin.

“Wow. I mean… wow.” Her cheeks puff as she blows out a breath.

I lean forward to pick up my tea. “Let me help you and Isla. I will take care of the La Salles.”

“But… why? Why would you do this when you don’t know me or Isla, or owe us anything?”

My gaze drops to the ground while I think. “It’s a fair question, and one I’ve thought deeply about. This awful thing happened to you at my club, and that makes what’s happening to you now my responsibility.”

“Hmm.” She doesn’t seem at all convinced.

“Look, I’ve always prided myself on The Lair being a place where people can explore sexual fantasies in a safe and consensual environment. Your husband broke that rule, and now his family are coming after you when you’ve done nothing wrong. I understand you don’t want to take charity. I get it. Truly, I do. But I’ve lived a privileged life. All I’m trying to do is offer a helping hand to someone who needs it.”

“I did do something wrong, though. I brought a gun into your club and planned to kill my husband.”

My instinct is to make a joke as I often do when things get serious, except this isn’t the time. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but I’d hazard a guess that what I saw him do to you at The Lair wasn’t his first time assaulting you.” I decline to mention the scars on her back.

She stares into the distance, nibbling her lip. “No, it wasn’t.” She’s so quiet, I barely hear her. After a few seconds, she looks at me, frowning. “What would being your assistant involve, exactly?”

“Reading and prioritizing my email, booking meetings, taking notes. Usual assistant activities.”

“For… The Lair?”

I shake my head. “My family has broad commercial interests. We’re involved in a wide spectrum of businesses. You won’t have anything to do with The Lair.”

Relief washes over her face. “But I’ve never been an assistant.”