Deal with the Devil

5. Chapter four

Chapter four:

Amelia

Sweatpants on, tank top secured, Amelia sat in one of the dining room chairs. Knox was pacing the floor on the phone with someone. Maevin sat across from her, eagerly shoveling noodles in red sauce into his face. He spoke through his food before tossing back a heavy swig of red wine. “ Swoo, you’re da girl? Huh?”

Amelia snickered, “What have you heard about me?”

“Nuffin’” He swallowed loudly before breaking a long stick of bread. Maevin was a tall elf, the kind of lanky elf that made trees look short. He was blond-headed, green-eyed, pointy eared, and pretty. So fucking pretty . The kind of pretty that obviously got him out of a lot of trouble. For example, bursting in on the boss-slash-best-friend fucking someone on their bed. Knox hardly said a word other than slapping him upside the head and taking the phone from him. Apparently, someone had called. Maevin, having been at the docks for the last three days, had no idea that Knox planned to gut Rick like a fish that day. Had even less of an idea that Knox made a deal with Amelia, in exchange for a full 24 hours, that all Rick’s debt be forgiven. “Well, I mean, other than you’re really fuckin’ fast.”

“I would like it to be put on record that he begged me to run so he could chase me.” She crossed her arms defensively over her chest. Knox immediately whipped to her and glared. She beamed brighter.

“I didn’t even know he liked that stuff,” Maevin muttered into his pasta.

“Well, are you fucking him?” Amelia cocked a brow.

Knox tossed an arm out to his side in exasperation, storming further across the room. Still on the phone .

“No, ew.” Maevin scrunched up his face with a layer of revulsion. “We’re like brothers. I like men, but not like him. I need them less…anal retentive?”

Knox slapped him upside the head as he made another pass around the table. Maevin giggled evilly, scooping more pasta into his mouth. Amelia snorted, rolling her eyes. She liked Maevin . The elf was delightfully refreshing in such a serious house. All the staff treated it like the Council Building. As if the forks being on the wrong side of the plate would start a war with the Maylor kingdom. Knox was so intense. In sex and in work, it seemed, she’d seen the many layers of Knox…wait, fuck, she didn’t know his last name.

“Hey, psst,” She scooped some pasta into her mouth. Maevin leaned forward, an eager expression painted on his marble-esque face. “What’s Knox’s last name?”

“Zrazduel.” Maevin smirked to himself as he lowered his voice, “It’s fiendish for ‘eater of fear’.”

“Intense,” she breathed.

“Fiends tend to be pretty literal in their naming. Whatever their trade or descent is, usually is their last name. He picked it long time ago.”

She squinted at him. Fear eating was his trade? What did descent mean? She didn’t want to be rude. Just like a human to know nothing about fiends. However, she’d never…been this intimate with anyone before… How ironic it would be the only time she went into something not wanting to catch feelings. And here she was, asking for his last name and letting him put a belt around her neck. It was scary how easily it was to give into her desires around him. She’d never trusted anyone enough to play with her throat like that.

And the man she shouldn’t trust with anything was the only person she trusted to do it safely. Just enough pressure, just enough teasing and pain, just enough grit, he was the perfect mix…the perfect poison. Her heart slowed to a sluggish beat as she tried to put food in her stomach. It churned unhappily. It wasn’t until he sank down into his seat, breaking a bread stick in half, that it lightened. When he offered her a piece of his bread, her heart sped back up.

“Apologies, pet.” He took up his wine and took a long sip.

“No need,” she blushed, picking at the bread. What is this? Why is this happening to me? She grimaced, “You’re a busy guy.”

“Work-a-holic, truthfully,” Maevin laughed, sitting back in his chair.

“When you’re running an entire empire, it’s hard to have a day off.” Knox glared at Maevin, handing back the phone.

“Am I allowed to pry? Or is that one of those, ‘if you tell me you’ll have to kill me’ type of things?” She tossed warm, buttery bread into her mouth.

“Well, currently, no harm can come to you.” He nodded at her palm. She jerked up straight in her seat. Stuffing the last bits of bread into her mouth, she glanced at her hand. He reached across her and took it gently. Flipping her palm up, he pointed at the symbols. They danced for him. “Our contract was twenty- four hours, pet. I promised on that contract that I would not hurt you, that Rick’s debts would be wiped from the books, and then I would personally take you home afterward.”

Maevin’s eyebrows rocketed off his face with surprise. The elf choked on his pasta. “ Ywo-did-whut?”

Knox waved him off, giving Amelia back her hand. She inspected her hand, flipping it back and forth. Then, she eyed him. “And if I broke it? What would happen?”

“Well, you’d lose your hand, first off.” His face curled with wicked glee. She glared at him. He caught her chin between his forefinger and thumb. “I wouldn’t worry about the contract breaking fee, pet, you’re too well behaved.”

She arched a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

He leaned closer, making her heart rapidly pound against her rib cage. Maevin, however, cut through the sexual tension with a cold slap of ‘cut that shit out’. “Ew. No, please, I’ll toss chunks, quit it.”

Knox inched back into his seat, glaring at Maevin. “What are you even doing down here?”

“Eating, duh,” Maevin motioned at his food.

Knox slapped himself in the forehead, all his fabulous floppy hair falling over his face. Maevin giggled once more, eating his food with gusto. Amelia was able to eat without knotted organs. The two men spoke in a hush, not excluding her, but she drifted in and out of the conversation, not wanting to interject. Who did what, how did the business deal go, what was it like, who did he see. They weaved in and out of the conversation before the room slowly filled with silence. Forks and knives scraping against plates as they cut into the chicken breasts that had come with the pasta. Amelia used bread to sop up the rest of the sauce.

That’s when Knox glanced at her and she froze, blushing under his stare. She let out a wheeze, “What?”

“Where did you learn to fight?” Knox cocked his head.

“Why? She fight someone?” Maevin gave her an impressed once over.

“She stabbed Rick in the neck.”

“Oh shit,” Maevin gasped, nearly spilling the wine he’d brought up to his lips.

“Well, if you did your research, you would know that,” she teased, sneering at Knox. He narrowed his eyes playfully to her. Chewing on her lower lip, she took a moment to keep from cackling before answering him seriously. “Mom wanted a dancer to follow in her pirouetting steps, you know? But dad wanted someone to be a heavy weight champion. So, Penny took ballet since she could walk…and I was the teacher’s kid in a boxing club. If it wasn’t my dad holding me to a high standard, it was all the kids three times my size trying to beat me to kinda address some ego in them. I had to be fast, and I had to be ruthless.”

Something came over Knox’s face. Like he recognized something in her, and they sat there, staring at each other with something dawning over them both. She exhaled, “How…did you become this… business man .”

“I was a poor kid, once upon a time, and much like yourself had to learn to be fast and ruthless. Started small. Made a name for myself.” He shrugged so nonchalantly. Like she hadn’t seen the scars. She wasn’t one to point those out. Scars are so deeply personal and she was still, at her core, trying not to like him. Despite everything, it would hurt less if she didn’t like him. But he’d been covered in them. The only difference was all the scars she had were on her soul.

There was no doubt his soul was just as riddled as his body.

“And the casino?”

“The council isn’t a fan of explicit gambling,” Maevin laughed, tossing back the rest of his wine.

“Now, pet, you understand that…” Knox trailed off.

“Whatever’s said during my time here, stays here.” She made a motion with her fingers across her lips.

“Clever girl.” He winked at her, climbing to his feet, “Come, I’ve got some work to do before I can fully retire for the night. I think I’ve got something you’ll like.”

Her face fell. “You’re not about to wax poetic about sailboats, are you?”

Knox’s head snapped back as he cackled. “No, no, come, naughty thing.”

“I already did, several times,” she muttered under her breath as she climbed to her feet. His hand found her backside sharply without hesitation. She squeaked, scrambling away from him and into the hall off the main foyer. He took her hand once more and silence fell around them a second time. They headed to his office with all the books. He snapped his fingers and the fireplace crackled to life.

“Pick any book you’d like; it’ll be about an hour.” He rounded his desk, pulling out a laptop and crystal pad, working in tandem with them. Amelia was left to wander his shelves, enticed by all the options. She found a familiar title that she hadn’t read in a while, opting for something she wouldn’t be pained to leave behind without finishing. Cracking it open, she spread out along the couch across from the fire. It was a classic movie scene, him hard at work— doing something— and she was there, draped across the leather couch, reading a book to the dulcet sounds of a wood-snapping fireplace.

She couldn’t get comfortable. As much as she tried to lose herself in the book, she kept glancing over the back of the couch at him. How did someone look so elegant while…what even is he doing? She gave up after about ten minutes of trying and failing. Eventually, she clambered to her feet and began to wander his office.

“Not in a reading mood?” he teased with a broad grin plastered to his lips, not looking up from his screen. Her eyes were scanning a massive shelf of ancient draconic tomes, their long ribbon tongues swaying before her.

“I only really read when comfy,” she confessed like a breath of air.

He didn’t say anything. When she glanced his way, his fingers were frozen on the keyboard. Finally, he cleared his throat, continuing to type. “I deserved that.”

Amelia would take away the sting. She was sharp tongued. Her mother used to scoff, calling her name with disappointment for it. Her father would always come to her defense. I didn’t build her to be a soft-spoken sweetheart. Amelia was made a fighter. Amelia was made a feral beast. Amelia was made a killer. It’s where her writing came from. Her soul begged for a way to speak about the violence in her skull. Gnashing teeth, breaking bones, blood, and viscera, she needed something to channel it. Give it a voice, put it to work, she poured her soul into those books. Female main characters that fought with their fingers and teeth, teenagers who bit first and asked questions later; it all went in there.

Amelia wasn’t a sweet person.

“I, uh, also have already read this one,” she raised the book up, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Oh, why not pick something new?” He cocked his head.

“Don’t want to be waiting to read the ending, I guess.” Amelia tucked the book away where she’d plucked it.

“Ah, fair,” he let out a heavy breath, returning to his work. “I apologize for robbing you of good reading time.”

She snorted, “You’re not sorry.”

He glanced up, those purple eyes flashing with golden lightning bolts. She was struck, turned to stone in her spot. Knox stared at her with the most bizarre, unreadable expression. Like his mind was miles away, considering something, but his eyes were burning through her forehead. Amelia cocked a brow. He blinked back to reality. “I guess you’re right, I’m not.”

“If you were really sorry for stealing my time away, you’d give it back,” she teased, tiptoeing a step or two closer to him.

His eyes narrowed at her, a playful but warning look playing over his sharp features. “Nice try, pet. We agreed on twenty-four hours.”

“I know, but 300 hundred gold? And twenty-four hours? Hardly seems comparable.” She clasped her hands behind her back, cheekily sliding up beside his desk. Knox didn’t move or hide anything away. Instead, going for the blatant approach, she sat on the edge of his desk and looked at his screen. Emails? Really? Crime really doesn’t sleep.

“Are you insinuating I got a bad deal or that you got a bad deal?” He folded his fingers over his stomach as he leaned back in his chair. The fire from the hearth caught the glossy black of his horns. Orange and a rainbow of other colors danced across his oil slick tips.

“Well, why twenty-four hours?” She cocked a brow.

“Why do you write books?” He smirked.

She glared at him; lips pursed into a thin line. Alright, that’s the game you wanna play, fine. Inhaling sharply through her nose, she answered. “Because I needed a creative output, because when I was six, a dwarfish kid broke my left leg and I was strung up in bed for weeks with nothing to do and I’d already read all we had. My mom threw an empty journal at me and said ‘make your own’. And so, I found a way to pour all that energy into something and keep my brain entertained.”

He nodded, a contemplative look crossing his face. Tapping his fingers against his t-shirt, he looked far away once more. When he returned, her expectant face waiting for him, he grinned. “Because if I asked for more, you’d have never said yes.”

“Bah!” She tossed her arms up. “You’re a filthy liar, Knox. Why trade twenty-four hours with me for money? I don’t get it.”

“Time IS money, Amelia.” He sat forward, finishing up an email and sending it off.

“Yeah, pfft, okay, and I’m worth 300 gold?” She slid up beside his chair and watched him respond to an email about employees going over their scheduled time because of some event. “And what even is this? I thought you ran an evil empire of crime?”

Knox shook his head, “The trick is that eighty percent of my business is legitimate. It keeps the papers above board, keeps the council off my back, and my evil empire of crime afloat. Why do most criminals get caught?”

Amelia rolled her eyes, “The taxes.”

“Bingo!” He jabbed a finger in the air before glancing up at her. “And you are worth 300 gold. I knew that the moment you stabbed Rick in the neck.”

She was speechless as he pulled away from the desk and led her down into his lap. Perched against the thick arms of his office chair, she sat with him as he went through and manually approved over thirty employees’ overtime in a computer system. It was so mundane it was almost laughable. But she couldn’t even think about that when his words repeated in her head. She was worth 300 gold?

Yeah, okay, sure! Amelia was stuck between laughing at him and sputtering to herself. Instead, she lingered in silence, watching him mess with inventory, send orders for toilet paper and towels for the casino, and other mundane things. How peculiar it was to lay her head against his shoulder as he reviewed video, stopping and clipping a small video of someone counting cards.

“Are you taking notes for future crime boss novels?” he teased softly.

“Slice of life mafia romance, actually.” She grinned from ear to ear as he chuckled. The sound rumbled through his chest and filled the air around her. It was soothing and sweet and nothing like what she expected.

Amelia Armstrong was in trouble because as she lay there, a fiendish hand rubbing her side, staring at yet another email he was typing up, she could imagine doing this. Doing it for real. What would life be like if Knox had met her on the street. What if he came into the bookstore like love interests do in romance books. Shows up and flirts with her, asks her for coffee, what if Knox had met her under any other circumstance…what would nights be like?

She’d never know because she’d sold her autonomy for her sister’s freedom. She’d never know if this was more than just passing attraction because he’d traded her choice for a debt.

Amelia yawned, laying her head against his shoulder, nearly drifting to sleep there in his lap. And when he finished, he put his technology away and walked her back to his room. She’d half expected him to jump her bones again, but he had her in bed and turned off the lights.

“For the next few hours, I’d like to sleep, so no stabbing me in my sleep.” His joke made her choke on her own spit as she flopped down into the pillows heavily.

“Damn, there goes my whole plan,” she snickered, curling up around a pillow. He engulfed her with his arms and legs, spooning her. It warmed her to feel his body heat against her. The room, the house, and the night were deadly quiet.

Then he whispered, “Sweet dreams, Amelia.”

She whispered back, “Are you demanding I have good dreams? Huh? Is that a part of the contract now?”

He laughed breathlessly against the shell of her ear, “Pet, your mouth will be the death of me. Sleep, you little shit.”

Amelia drifted to sleep to the soft breathing and occasional chuckling of the fiend she’d struck a deal with…a strange way to fall asleep. For the very reason she couldn’t get comfortable reading should be the reason she never got to sleep…but in his arms she felt nothing but safe.