Corrupt (Devil’s Night Book 1)

Present

HAD TO GET BACK TO THE CITY. YOUR CAR IS OUTSIDE.

I stared down at the text Michael had sent me four days ago when I’d woken up in his bedroom alone.

Filthy, bruised, sore, and alone.

There’d been nothing from him since then, and I hadn’t seen him, either. After our little trip to the catacombs, he must’ve gone over to my house and picked up my car for me before leaving and texting me from the road.

How could he have just left me like that?

I’d heard on the news that his team had gone to Chicago for an exhibition match before the regular season started, but I saw the lights in his penthouse on this morning, so I knew he was home now.

But despite the fact that I knew better, I was still hurt. Finally having him, feeling him inside, was something I hadn’t been able to push out of my head the last four days. It was better than I ever imagined.

He should’ve woken me to say goodbye. Or called to see how I was, at least. I’d just lost my house, and I still couldn’t get a hold of my mother, even though I’d been dialing for days. I also had no luck getting a hold of Mr. or Mrs. Crist on their cell phones, either. If I didn’t hear from anyone by tomorrow, it was time to go to the police. My mother never went this long without calling.

I stuffed my phone back in my purse, picking out one of the books of matches I’d put in there when I brought the box back with me from Thunder Bay. I slid open the lid and inhaled the scent, a quick moment of relief hitting me before it was gone.

Putting it back in my bag, I continued down the aisle of the used bookstore, perusing old sci-fi paperbacks and trying to distract myself.

I’d be damned if I was the one to call him.

“Hey,” I heard a voice call out.

I turned, seeing Alex approach me with a hand in her jeans pocket and a smile on her face. “I saw you through the window and thought I’d say hi. How are you doing?”

I nodded. “Fine. You?”

She held up her hands and shrugged. “Every day’s an adventure.”

I laughed under my breath, turning back to the books. With her profession, I could imagine that it was never boring.

I turned my head again, looking at her. “Hey, thanks for the ride the other night. I know we just met and all, but—”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” she cut me off. “Thanks for driving. I don’t usually drink so much.”

Her eyes fell, looking absently at the books as she gripped the strap of her bag. Just like me, she must’ve just finished with classes.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Just the usual. I’m hot for someone, and he won’t touch me because I sleep with other guys for a living.” She rolled her eyes. “What a baby.”

I smiled with her, but it was kind of sad, actually.

“So he knows what you do then?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “He was at the party, which was why I was drinking. He won’t even look at me.”

“Well, you must know people,” I guessed. “You must’ve made connections in your line of work? Friends? Maybe someone can get you a different job.”

“There’s nothing wrong with what I do,” she retorted, her voice turning cold.

I stopped and turned to her, guilt creeping into my chest. That wasn’t what I’d meant, but it probably sounded like it. I was just trying to see a solution in the situation.

She cocked her head, thinning her eyes with a challenge. “Someday I’m going to own a building like Delcour and drive a hot car like you,” she told me, “and I will have gotten it all on my own. And I’ll do it while flipping the middle finger at everyone—including him—that looked down on me.”

Her voice was hard and strong, and even though I might not understand how she did what she did, I also knew I would never have to. I didn’t know what it was like to make hard choices.

Her lips curled as she continued, “I’m going to fuck my way through school and anyone that doesn’t like it can go to hell.”

I pursed my lips, letting out a small grin. “Okay,” I accepted and took the hint to shut up about it. “But before the hot car throws you, my life hasn’t exactly been a party, either.”

Her eyes softened, and she leaned forward, reaching out her hand and running a finger down the scar on my neck.

“I thought as much,” she allowed.

And I stared at her, feeling like she knew without me having to say anything. It was weird. When I first saw her with Michael, I’d judged her. I’d written her off. She was a bimbo—brainless, chasing fame and money.

But I was the asshole. We weren’t so different.

It’s odd to see how no one is really human to us until we talk to them and realize there’s barely any separation between who we are and who they are. She may have wanted what I had, and I may have wanted less, but we were still both struggling no matter the shoes we walked in.

“Well.” She let out a breath and smiled. “I’ve got to run. Have a good weekend if I don’t see you, okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, you, too.”

She turned around and walked down the aisle, disappearing around the corner.

I think I’d made my first friend in Meridian City, and for the first time in five minutes, I hadn’t thought about Michael.

Win.

I dug my phone out of my bag and checked the time. The Thunder Bay fire chief had been evading my calls all week, as well, about the cause of the fire in the house. I needed to get home and try to get through again.

Taking the three books in my hand that I’d already picked out, I walked for the front of the store, heading straight for the register.

The sales clerk rang up the items and put them in a bag. “Okay, that’s thirty-seven fifty-eight, please?”

I swiped my card and handed it to her with my ID to verify.

But she didn’t take it.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She looked at her screen, narrowing her eyes on confusion. “Your card’s not working. Do you have another one?”

I shot my eyes down, seeing Card Declined on my screen as well.

My heart started to beat faster and my entire face warmed, embarrassed. That’d never happened to me before.

“Oh, um…” I stammered, digging in my school bag for my wallet and taking out another card. “Here. Maybe you should try.” I smiled. “I’m probably doing something wrong.”

Which was a ridiculous notion. I was a skilled shopper and a proud graduate of the Christiane Fane and Delia Crist University of How To Spend Money. I knew how to use a damn card.

She swiped it and waited a moment before handing it back to me and shaking her head. “Sorry, hon.”

My heart dropped in my stomach. “What? Are you sure your machine’s working?”

She hooded her eyes, looking at me like she’d heard that one before.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, completely baffled. “This is just so weird.”

“It happens.” She shrugged. “Struggling college student and all. We have an ATM over there if you’d like me to hold the books.”

She pointed to the windows behind me, and I saw the machine sitting in the bookshop’s café area.

“Thank you,” I said, leaving the bag with her and walking briskly over to the ATM.

How could my cards not be working? I’d had one since I was sixteen and started driving. When I left for college, my mother let me get one in my own name to build credit. I also had my debit card, but our accountant preferred I use that for food and gas only to track my expenses a little better.

I’d never had a problem with any of them. Ever.

I swallowed the dryness in my mouth and slipped my card into the machine, punching in my PIN. I went to hit Withdraw, but I stopped, thinking better of it. I hit Account Balance instead, and my heart immediately thundered in my chest.

Zero.

“What?” I burst out, tears stinging behind my eyes at seeing my checking account balance. “This isn’t right. It can’t be.”

I began pushing buttons, my hands shaking as I went back out and checked the balance of my savings account instead.

That balance also read zero.

I shook my head, tears pooling. “No. What the hell is going on?”

Grabbing my card out of the machine, I stormed out of the bookstore, leaving the books behind, and charged down the street. I rushed home as a thousand knots tightened in my stomach.

One card not working? Fine. None of my cards working and my bank account empty? My mind was racing.

Was the jewelry shop in trouble? Had our accountant not paid our taxes and our accounts were now frozen? Had we been in debt?

As far as I knew everything had always been fine. Mr. Crist had handled the business and properties, and whenever I talked to the accountant, our finances were in great shape.

I dug my phone out again and dialed our family’s accountant, who also handled the Crists’ accounts, but all I got was a message that he was gone for the weekend.

I continued down the street, sweat breaking out across my back as I tried dialing my mother, Mrs. Crist, and even Trevor. I needed to know how to get in touch with someone that could help.

But no one was answering. What the fuck is going on? Why can’t I get a hold of anyone?

Richard, the doorman, saw me approach and immediately held open the front door of Delcour. I whisked through, ignoring his hello and making straight for the elevator.

Once I got upstairs and in my apartment, I dumped my bag and started up my laptop to log into my accounts. I couldn’t wait until everyone was back in the office on Monday. I needed to find out what the hell was going on now.

As I brought the Internet up, I dialed Mr. Crist’s office, knowing he worked late and that his assistant would most likely still be there as well. It was only just after six.

“Hello?” I rushed out, cutting off the woman as she answered the phone. “Stella, this is Rika. Is Mr. Crist in? It’s urgent.”

“No, I’m sorry, Rika,” she replied. “He left for Europe a few days ago to join Mrs. Crist. Can I leave a message for him?”

I dropped my head in my hand, gripping my hair in frustration. “No, I…” Tears started to spill. “I need to know what’s going on. Something’s happened with my accounts. I don’t have any money. None of my credit cards work!”

“Oh, dear,” she burst out, sounding a little more concerned now. “Well, have you talked to Michael?”

“Why would I talk to Michael?”

“Because Mr. Crist transferred power of attorney over to him late last week,” she pointed out as if I should’ve known. “Michael is currently in charge of everything until you graduate.”

I stilled, my eyes widening.

Michael? He controlled everything now?

I shook my head. No.

“Rika?” Stella asked when I didn’t say anything.

But I dropped the phone away from my ear and ended the call.

Tightening my fingers around the cell, I hardened my eyes and clenched my fucking jaw so hard my teeth ached.

All the money my father left us. All the money we earned from our property and the shop. He had the deeds to everything!

I darted my hands out, swiping the laptop off the island and pushing it to the floor where it tumbled and crashed.

“No!” I screamed.

My stomach rolled, and I felt sick. What the hell was he doing? I knew it was him, but why?

I wiped away my tears, anger charging through my veins now. I didn’t care. Whatever he was up to and why he did it, God, I didn’t care.

I hopped off the stool, slipped my phone in my pocket, and grabbed my keys from where I’d dropped them on the floor, racing out of the apartment. I didn’t even bother grabbing my purse before I locked the door and took the elevator down to the first floor.

As soon as the doors opened up again, I charged out and headed straight for the front desk. “Has Mr. Crist come home yet?”

Mr. Patterson popped his head up from his computer and looked at me. “I’m sorry, Miss Fane. I can’t tell you that,” he said. “Would you like to leave him a message?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I need to know where he is right now.”

But he just frowned, looking regretful. “I am sorry. I’m not allowed to give out that information.”

I heaved a breath and pulled out my phone, bringing up my pictures. Clicking on one of Trevor, Mr. Crist, and me in May, I flashed him the screen.

“Recognize the man in the middle with his arm around me?” I asked. “Evans Crist. Michael’s father.” My voice turned sharp. “Your boss. My godfather.”

His face fell, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down. I’d never played the “I’m-Going-To-Get-You-Fired” card before, but it was all I had. Now he knew I knew the Crists, so why shouldn’t I know where Michael is?

“Where is he?” I demanded, sliding my phone into my pocket again.

He straightened, dipping his head down and not looking at me. “He left about any hour ago,” he admitted. “He and his friends took a cab to Hunter-Bailey for dinner.”

I shoved away from the counter, rushing out the front doors.

Turning left, I ran down the city sidewalk, veering around other pedestrians and racing through crosswalks as I made my way down to the gentlemen’s club several blocks from Delcour.

I breathed hard, a light layer of sweat covering my stomach and back as I finally jogged up the stairs of the old stone building, my legs burning from the rush I’d made to get here.

I was done thinking. Done wondering and pondering. He’d stolen from me and my family, and my blood was burning.

Fuck him.

I entered the building and stepped up to the front desk. “Where’s Michael Crist?” I demanded.

The attendant, in his pressed black suit and midnight blue tie, squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes on me.

“Well, he’s dining right now, ma’am,” he told me, and then I caught the flash of his eyes to the wooden double doors to my right. “May I help—”

But I was gone. I charged for the doors, not waiting to be turned away or told what to do.

I grabbed both handles and turned the knobs, throwing the doors open.

“Miss!” the attendant exclaimed. “Miss! You can’t go in there!”

But I didn’t even hesitate. Screw their stupid “No Women Allowed” rule.

I walked in, my skin buzzing under the surface and my heart racing with a new high. I twisted my head left and right, vaguely taking in the room full of men in their fancy suits, with their clinking glasses and cigar smoke sitting in the air above their heads.

I finally halted, my eyes finding Michael, Kai, Damon, and Will sitting at a round table in the back. I stormed through the room, passing tables of onlookers and waiters carrying trays.

“Excuse me, ma’am!” one of them called as I shot past.

But I wasn’t stopping.

I charged over, seeing Michael turn his eyes on me, finally aware of my presence, but before he could say anything, I reached down and grabbed the bottom on the tablecloth and yanked it off, carrying all of the glasses, plates, and silverware with it.

“Shit!” Will shouted.

Everything crashed to the hardwood floor, and Kai, Will, and Damon shot back in their seats, trying to avoid the mess of food and drink spilling everywhere.

I dropped the tablecloth and steeled my jaw, glaring into Michael’s amused eyes as I stood up straight and demanded their fucking attention.

The chatter around the room had stopped, and I knew all eyes were on me.

“Miss?” a male voice charged, coming up next to me. “You need to leave.”

But I didn’t budge. I stared at Michael, challenging him.

He finally glanced at the man next to me and waved him off.

As soon as he was gone, I stepped up to the table, not caring who heard me or who was looking.

“Where is my money?” I growled.

“In my account.”

But it wasn’t Michael who answered. I looked to Kai, seeing a small smirk on his lips.

“And mine.”

I twisted my head, turning my eyes on Will and seeing his cocky grin.

“And mine,” Damon added.

I shook my head, trying to keep my body from shaking. “You’ve all gone too far,” I breathed out, shocked.

“There’s no such thing,” Kai replied. “What we can do, we will.”

“Why?” I burst out. “What did I ever do to you?”

“If I were you,” Damon joined in, “I’d be more concerned with what we’re going to do to you.”

What? Why were they doing this?

Michael leaned forward in his chair and placed his forearms on the table.

“Your house is gone,” he stated. “Your money and property? Liquidated. And where is your mother?”

My eyes rounded, realization slowly dawning as I saw the suggestion in his eyes.

My mother wasn’t on a yacht. I’d been played.

“Oh, my God,” I murmured to myself.

“You belong to us now,” Michael declared. “You’ll have money when we think you deserve it.”

I narrowed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. “There’s no way you’ll get away with this!”

“Who’s going to stop us?” Damon argued.

But I looked to Michael, dealing only with him. “I’ll call your father,” I threatened.

He let out a laugh, shaking his head as he stood up from his chair. “I hope you do,” he replied. “I’d love to see the look on his face when he realizes that the Fane fortune is gone, and Trevor will get you”—his heated eyes fell down my body before continuing—“in less than pristine condition.”

I heard Will laugh under his breath as the rest of them stood up, avoiding the mess on the floor.

Michael circled the table, coming around to stand in front of me. “Now we’ve got spectators, and I don’t like that.” He glanced around the room full of gentlemen who were still watching us. “We’re heading back to my parents’ house in Thunder Bay for the weekend, and we’ll expect you within the hour.”

And he pinned me with a warning look, letting me know it wasn’t a request.

I stopped breathing and watched as he walked away, through the dining room, followed by his friends. And without a single backward glance from any of them.

Thunder Bay? Alone with them?

I shook my head. No. I couldn’t. I needed to get help. I needed to reach someone.

But I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting away the tears as I ran my hand through my hair.

There was no one. I had no one to turn to.

Who was going to stop them?