The devil's advocate

Chapter 7 Eden

“I kissed you because I’m mad at Cain,” I admit, attempting to reason with him.

“What?”

“You wanted the truth, right?” I swallow thickly against his palm. “Well, the truth is—you’re right about everything. My name is Eden and I’m Cain’s stepdaughter. And as you already know, I’m in love with him.” Turning my head, I study him out of the corner of my eye. “You don’t have to tell me who you are. I figured it out. It all makes sense now.”

Not only does this man know too much about my relationship with Cain, he obviously wants to harm me.

And there's only one person I can think of who would want me gone.

Margaret.

“You know who I am?”

I nod. “Margaret is the governor’s daughter. It’s why Cain’s marrying her…and how you know so much about me.” I close my eyes as I recall the lipstick mark on Cain's collar the night we hooked up in the living room.

It was only three weeks ago. Cain had to have been seeing Margaret by then. He might have even proposed to her.

Which explains why he avoided me like the plague after. Guilt.

“He must have felt guilty for cheating on her, so he came clean about what happened. In turn, Margaret became jealous and hired you to take care of the problem…me.” Indignation hits me square in the chest. “I know you have orders to follow and all, but I’d really appreciate it if you could give her a message.”

“What’s that?”

I straighten my shoulders. “Tell her I said—suck my dick.” I give him a menacing smile. “On second thought—tell her to learn how to suck one first. Maybe then her fiancé wouldn’t have to ask me to finish him off.”

His blue eyes sparkle with amusement. “You’re smarter than you look.”

The confirmation nearly knocks me off my feet. Part of me was hoping I was wrong.

“I can’t believe she hired you to get rid of me.” Clutching the railing, I blow out a breath. “That bitch thought she was so cute pretending not to know who I was earlier.” I laugh. She's not so smart after all. “Cain’s going to have her head when he finds out.” I glare at him. “Yours too.”

The man runs his nose along my hairline. “Your stepfather deposited the money into my account this morning.”

I freeze. “What?”

“I told you he was—”

“No,” I interject because he's clearly lying. “You’re wrong. Cain would never kill me.”

I don't care what Margaret told this guy to say. There's no way I'll ever believe Cain would hire someone to kill me. He may not feel for me the way I feel for him, but I know he loves me.

He's my family.

That's what he told me the night my mom died.

“You said it yourself, Eden. Cain’s marrying Margaret because she’s the governor’s daughter. And if his new fiancée was upset after finding out how close you two are… he’d do anything to get in her good graces again.” He licks the tear ru

I shake my head. His brainwashing won't work on me. “No. He loves—”

I’m so fucking close to getting everything I ever wanted…and I won’t let you or anyone else ruin it.

I can feel the color drain from my face as I recall Cain's words that night.

The realization that this man may actually be right slices through me like a hot knife through butter.

Nothing is more important to Cain than this election.

Not even me.

My blood turns cold as my mind puts all the pieces together. “Cain wanted me to come here. He bought me a dress.” Nausea barrels into me and I wrench the torn dress off my body. I don't want anything of his anywhere near me.

“How could he do this?” I choke out. “How did it come to this?”

Easy. Because he knows how much I love him.

He knows my obsession with him knows no bounds...and death was the only way to keep me away for good.

The man cornering me grazes his teeth down my neck. “I know it hurts.” He walks his fingers down my abdomen, stopping above my pubic bone. “But I can make it better.”

“No, you can't,” I whisper.

The only one who can fix this is Cain.

My breathing hitches as his hand ventures lower. “I'll protect you, Eden.” He skims my pearls with his thumb and I arch toward him instinctively, as if my body knows he's my lifeline.

I just don't understand why. Why would a man who was hired to kill me...offer to save me?

“What’s in it for you?”

My pulse accelerates when his finger slides along my slit. “Apart from this?” He tugs on the string of pearls, sending them scattering. “Revenge.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Against—”

I don't get to finish that sentence because he shoves two fingers inside me. “Your stepfather.”

I start to speak, but he works me faster, driving into me with meticulous, swift movements that have me spasming against his palm. “And you're going to help me. Understand?”

Against my better judgment, I nod, head whirling. I'm so close to coming I can't see straight. However, he removes his touch before I can.

“Good.” He secures one of my wrists to the railing. Upon closer inspection, I notice it's his bow tie. “Because if you screw me over…I’ll kill you both.”

My heart thunders in my chest with his threat and then stops beating entirely when I look down at my wrist.

Cain tied me up in the closet earlier.

But what if it wasn't Cain?

I don't have time to ponder the thought though, because he guides my free hand to his zipper. “Take it out.”

My hand trembles as I wrap it around his length. He's thick and long. A mixture of power and terror covered in silk. He makes a noise deep in his throat as I run my fingers over the veins and ridges, stroking him from root to tip.

“Bend over and grip the railing,” he growls. “I want to see your pussy.”

Nerves bunch in my stomach as I proceed to do what he asks. The position leaves me fully exposed.

Something he enjoys given the hum of approval he makes. Slowly, he pushes two fingers inside me and spreads them, stretching me. “Beautiful.”

My cheeks heat. Something tells me he isn't the type of man to dish out compliments.

I gasp when he removes his fingers and the smooth head of his cock glides along my lips. “Look up at the stars and hold your breath.”

“Why?”

“Because this is going to hurt.”

“What's—”

“Taking what's his,” he groans against my ear as white-hot pain surges through my body.

Tears sting my eyes when his hand curls around my hip possessively and I exhale sharply when he thrusts again, as if staking his claim.

My legs turn to jelly. I don't know why he hates Cain so much, but whatever the reason, it's clearly a personal one.

It still doesn't give him the right to take something from me without asking. “I don't recall giving you permission.”

“I don't recall asking for it.” Pain gives way to pleasure briefly as his hand drifts between my legs and he whispers, “Tell me to stop.”

My pulse skitters when he finds the spot that lights all my nerve endings on fire. However, my pleasure is short-lived as images of Cain and Margaret together discharge one by one through my mind like bullets hitting a target.

Did they laugh as they pla

Did Cain feel anything—shame or sorrow—when he paid this man to end my life?