Devilish Deal by Jenna Wolfhart
2
“Welcome to my club.” The owner, whose name I still didn’t know, led me through a dimly-lit corridor. The walls were lined with framed photographs of famous people. Actors and pop singers, politicians and reality stars. My heart thumped as we drew close to a gleaming oak door. Had all of these people been here? What kind of place had I ended up in, and why had I never heard of it before?
This guy’s opinion of me was starting to make a little more sense. With my casual, well-worn clothes and flaming red hair, I wasn’t exactly a shiny, glamorous kind of girl. I was more at home stomping on a bar top than mingling with women who wore glittering jewels that cost more than my entire life’s earnings.
He pushed open the oak door, and I followed him into the main section of his club. The once-gritty warehouse had been transformed. A black marble floor stretched out before us, leading to a small stage with a DJ stand. Intimate booths ran along the walls where leather seats curved around tables stocked with champagne buckets. Above the dance floor, seven human-sized birdcages hung from the lofted ceiling. Diamonds glittered along the bottom of each one.
Infernalwas a club alright, but it was unlike any I’d ever been in before. This place was meant for people with money.
“What do you think?” the owner asked.
I jumped at the sound of his deep voice, and then inwardly cursed at myself for the reaction. “It looks expensive.”
His lips curved into a wicked smile. “That’s because it is.”
“So, that’s why you didn’t want to give me an audition. Because I look like I’m poor.” Again, my stupid mouth betrayed me. I really should learn how to keep my thoughts to myself in situations like this. But something about this guy really brought out my snark.
“That’s not entirely accurate,” he said smoothly before strolling across the floor with his hands slung into his jean pockets. I watched him. I couldn’t help myself. His dark hair was the color of night itself, and something about the way he moved reminded me of shadows. Very mesmerizing shadows. Gritting my teeth, I glanced away.
“This is where you’d be dancing.” I turned back to find him gazing at me with those sharp blue eyes. Something flashed in the depths of them, something I couldn’t read. I followed the line of his arm, and then his finger. He was pointing up at the oversized birdcages. Just as I’d thought. “Is that a problem?”
“Why would it be?” I strode over to him with all of the bravado I didn’t feel. “It’s just a platform for dancing as far as I can tell.”
He shot me a dark smile. “You’d be trapped. If you wanted to leave, you couldn’t. Not until the end of your shift when we lower the cages.”
My stomach flipped. Well, that was more than a little unnerving. Plus, shivers coursed down my spine from the way he’d said it. Like it was a threat. But I knew he was only trying to get a reaction out of me. Probably. And I wouldn’t let him see that he’d gotten one.
“No big deal,” I said as breezily as possible. “What kind of hours are we talking about? Are there any breaks?”
“The dancers work from eleven to three. No breaks while you’re up there. The guests enjoy the dance floor during those hours, and lowering the cages is a logistical nightmare.”
I nodded as if the idea of being trapped inside a cage for four hours was at all reasonable. “Do dancers get any tips?”
The owner motioned at something—or someone—hidden in the dark shadows near the ceiling. Were we being watched? A moment later, chains groaned as the nearest cage lowered to the ground. He opened the door and pointed at a small golden bucket. “If someone seems interested in your dancing, you can lower that with a rope. But be sure to pocket anything you receive. If you lower it with cash still inside, the tricksters in the crowd will happily take it.”
“Tricksters? Sure.” I nodded again. Who uses the word tricksters?
“Are you ready to audition now?”
I swallowed hard. “One last question.”
He raised a brow.
“What’s your name? I don’t think I caught it.”
He flashed me that wicked smile again. “Because I didn’t give it to you.”
I gave him a blank stare. Was he really going to have me audition for his club and not tell me his damn name? “And it is…?”
“Asmodeus.”
I bit back a laugh. What the hell kind of name was that?
Was he joking? Or was he giving me a fake name for some bizarre, unknowable reason? I met his dark gaze. He looked serious enough. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face.
“Nice to meet you, Asmodeus,” I grumbled. Though…was it really? That sense of wrong had only increased since I’d stepped foot inside his club. I didn’t belong here with this fancy man and his fancy famous friends. With a deep breath, I stepped inside the cage.
Immediately, the door slammed shut behind me, and the cage tipped beneath my feet. It inched off the ground, swinging lightly on its heavy chain. I bit back the urge to scream and stood stock still until the cage shuddered to a stop. Gritting my teeth, I peered through the glittering bars at the sleek, marble floor far below me. Asmodeus stared up at me with a grin that could only be described as pure evil.
I was going to have to dance in this thing.
My heart took flight as Asmodeus strode over to the stage, rounded a DJ stand, and punched a few buttons. Music blared through hidden speakers, an upbeat, clubby song that bounced against my skin. I swallowed hard and wiped my sweaty palms against my jeans. I knew ballet and jazz but nothing more modern. How the hell was I going to pull this off?
“Whenever you’re ready,” he called.
Pulling my breath into my lungs, I closed my eyes and listened to the beat. This place, this guy, all of it was unnerving and way out of my comfort zone. But I needed a job, desperately so. I hadn’t asked about wages, but I didn’t need to. The diamonds and the wall of famous faces said it all. I would be paid well if I got this job. Probably well enough to get my own apartment.
All I had to do was put up with a weird asshole of a boss and dance in a cage for a few hours several times a week. That really wasn’t so bad in the grand scheme of things. A lot of people had it way worse than that.
The bass thumped through the club, reverberating through the thick soles of my boots. Slowly, I began to nod, letting the music fill my body. The notes wound into my ears, mixing with my blood. I’d always felt attuned to music, like it was part of me. After a few moments, my body moved. I didn’t overthink it. I lost myself in the sound and let my soul take over.
I’d spent years training my body, and it knew what to do without me asking. My arms twisted in the air as my legs bounced from side to side. I pushed up onto my toes and spun, my fingers skimming the bars, my hair swirling around my shoulders.
The world dropped away as I danced. All my fears were forgotten. My worries and anxieties whispered away. The job didn’t matter. My parents didn’t matter. The trial and the charges and the social media hate I’d endured were momentarily nothing but a shadow in my mind.
The music cut off. Suddenly, it all came rushing back in. The accusing eyes. The headlines. The sirens. The look on my parents’ faces when they shouted at me to get out. Tears flooded my vision, but I quickly blinked them away.
I looked down to find Asmodeus staring up at me with appreciation in his eyes. I swore I even saw the hint of a smile. My chest lifted as hope chased away the fears battling their way back inside my mind. I’d impressed him.
The job was mine. I could see it in his face.
Asmodeus motioned to the ceiling, and the cage cranked down to the gleaming floor. I tried to push the door open, but it didn’t budge. My lungs squeezed tight. I was locked inside.
For a moment, Asmodeus stood on the other side of the door and made no move to release me. My heartbeat hammered my ribs, and panic rose like a rock in my throat, choking my breath away. Darkness swirled across my vision, and a sudden heat pulsed against my skin, as if a nearby radiator had suddenly flared to life.
I’d been an idiot for walking into this club. Alone. No one even knew where I was. All I had was a few borrowed dollars in my pocket. My hands fisted by my sides as the instinct to fight rose within me like a storm. If he didn’t let me out of this damn cage, I would scream bloody murder. This might be a quiet street, but someone would hear me.
Maybe. How thick were these club walls?
After far too many tense moments, Asmodeus cracked a grin, shoved the key into the lock, and released me from the cage. I stumbled forward with narrowed eyes. “For a minute there, I didn’t think you were going to let me out.”
“You think I would bother trapping you in a cage?” He turned his back on me and strode over to the empty bar in the far corner. It was a curving wooden thing that had been polished to perfection. Behind it, rows of top bottles glimmered beneath a hidden spotlight. There were champagne bottles that cost more than Serena’s monthly rent.
“The way you said that makes it sound like an insult.” I stayed beside the cage, watching him grab a bottle of gin from behind the bar.
“Would you like a drink before you go?” he asked, ignoring me. “You look like a gin and tonic kind of girl.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant, and annoyingly, he was right. Begrudgingly, I trailed over to him. “Sure, I’ll have one.”
A slight smile lifted the corners of his lips as he mixed the drink. He grabbed a second glass, made another, and then pushed one into my hands. His fingers brushed against mine, and a shot of electricity went down my arm. I stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath, and then scolded myself for being such a goddamn idiot. His eyes darkened as he pulled back his hand, and I swore I saw the reflection of flames deep within the sharp blue.
Obviously, I was imagining things. This guy was really getting under my skin, and I hated him for it.
“So,” he said, leaning back against the bar. He looked so calm and in control, so relaxed in who he was. There was a confidence that radiated off him, like nothing in the world could ever tear him down. I couldn’t imagine ever having a life like that. “You’re not a bad dancer.”
“Wow, what a compliment.” I took a sip of the drink and fought back the urge to moan. It was the best gin and tonic I’d ever tasted. Sharp yet sweet, with the perfect amount of bitters. It was all I could do not to chug the entire thing and then ask for another.
The right corner of his lips tilted up, dimpling his cheek. I swallowed hard. It was the first time I’d noticed the dimples. They hadn’t been there before, had they? Or was this just the first genuine smile? “Alright, I’ll admit you’re good. Your body seemed to suck up the music, and then pour it all out again. Mesmerizing, really.”
I fought back a smile, hiding it behind another sip of the gin and tonic. “Thanks. So, does that mean I got the job?”
His expression darkened as he raised the glass to his lips. “Unfortunately, no. I meant what I said, Mia. You’re not right for this establishment.”
My hand tightened around the glass as frustration rushed through me. “But you had me audition.”
“Because I was curious about you. You’re a hard one to figure out.” He shrugged. “I told you that before you came in. You’re a very good dancer, but it changes nothing. We’re looking for someone you’re not.”
I lowered the glass to the bar top and scowled. “I can’t believe you had me come in here and waste my time. If I’d known I had no shot at this, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
He raised a brow. “Are you sure about that?”
“Very,” I shot back. With a frustrated growl, I twisted on my heels and stormed toward the door. Just as I reached it, I cast one last glance over my shoulder. Asmodeus still stood by the bar, a bemused look on his face. “Here’s a tip. You might have a fancy bar and famous friends, but being a rude asshole will only get you so far in life. Keep this up, and one day your pretty castle will crumble down on top of your head. Goodbye, Asmodeus. I hope I never see your smug face again.”
