The devil's den

Angelica

I was starting to doubt Curtis’s infamous skilled tongue had anything to do with his negotiation skills. I had overheard enough of his conference call to know that bit was true, but that was certainly not all.

After he left, I’d tried to reenact the night before, touching myself exactly the way he did. It did get me off, albeit not as intensely as he did. Then he’d dropped by in the evening while I danced in my room and made me see literal stars before he left for work yet again.

It was finally clear why Siren had made it a point to warn me against sleeping with the enemy. She meant it literally. I was starting to care about things that shouldn’t be my business instead of rejoicing at the chance to explore the rest of the mansion. Heaven knew I didn’t have all the time in the world.

I had no idea what time Curtis would be back and I had no excuse to ask him, so it was a pie directly from the sky when Siren decided to drop by.

“What’s the special occasion?” I asked when