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“We are doing this,” he assured me, his husky voice seeping into my consciousness. I briefly closed my eyes, and he ran a hand through my hair. “I’ve got you, Puppet. I promise.”

I let myself feel the safety of his embrace and then lifted my head and peered up at him. “What happens now?”

“Now?” He reached down and gripped my ass, maneuvering me until I was straddling him. “Now I teach you how to play at the Devil’s Playground.”

CHAPTER NINE

My life did not get any easier after making a deal with the devil. If anything, the months thereafter were ten times harder. I felt like I’d gotten the lead in a Broadway-worthy play and if I made a single error then that would be it—curtains closed. The problem was no one gave me a script. I was doing the best with what I had, and I didn’t have much.

Resting an elbow on the dining room table, I studied the calendar on my phone. I was trying to pinpoint Lamia’s due date and couldn’t narrow down exactly how far along she was. I’d had no news of her since the night of the oath. Ciaran had recently become radio silent too, for longer than he usually did.

The last time we saw one another was an event I’d been forced to attend for some fundraising event, raising money for a restaurant called Blight House or something. I’d pretended nothing had changed between us and that was a feat in itself.

I’d heard long-distance relationships were hard. I would take one of those over the one I had to hide from the world. There were no texts, emails, or letters to re-read during times of longing. You didn’t have a phone call to look forward to. Even whispered conversations could be overheard.

Our time together came with thorough detailed planning of overnight excursions I never actually went to. Instead, I was off with him and our friends. What was dating when you were having an illicit affair that ensured you’d be decoding riddles and learning the many ways to survive hell on earth?

The downside was how we had to space everything out to keep from being caught. It had become one of the hardest parts of all this. I expected hardships. I never thought one of them would be missing him

Aside from the faded lines on my palm the only memento and proof of our relationship was the copy of the photo he’d brought me a few weeks ago, the one from the night of Sainte’s party. I stashed it in a secret space inside my bathroom for safekeeping.

I understood now why Lamia had risked everything for a relationship that would never be accepted by anyone aligned with the Serpines. I was doing the same damn thing. I wondered if that made us selfish.

I wouldn’t change a thing, regardless. Over the past few months despite how hard it was being in such a complex relationship Ciaran had taught me a lot.

Dormant demons I’d always carried were starting to wake.

I’d never felt better about myself. He made me see things in a new light. I knew I was capable of rising up and taking everything away from those who’d hurt me and making it my own.

I wouldn’t be alone, but it was nice to realize I wasn’t as powerless as I’d believed. Nights together always ended with our bodies tangled together. It didn’t matter how grueling his ‘lessons’ were. We needed the physical connection.

Hearing the click of Pandora’s heels, I exited the calendar app I’d begun staring at while lost in thought and did a quick check of my texts, frowning when I saw there’d still been no reply from Mel or Grace.

Pandora breezed into the dining room with a smile on her face. “Sorry, hija. I got caught up on a phone call with Papá.”

“It’s fine.” I eyed her suit outfit. “Is he okay? He’s been gone for a while.”

She sat her cellphone on the table and waved off my concern, reaching for the cloth napkin that went over her lap. “He’s good. A lot of higher-ups had to fly out and see our new build site.”

“Mm.” I nodded as if I truly cared about this city they were reconstructing. They never told me enough information about their work for me to become invested.

The longer Matheus stayed gone the better. Living in this house with my family was a daily battle of wills. I reached for more Caesar dressing and drizzled some across already saturated lettuce.

I’d been working on this salad for fifteen minutes. I had little desire to do these luncheons and even less of an appetite as I pretended that we were normal.

“Did you know Ciaran Belair had a brother?” she asked without seeming particularly interested in the topic. It was an act I knew well.

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