Page 27 of His Deadly Devotion

“Worth your father’s wrath?”

“I also had to endure one of my Uncle Xavier’s lectures. You know, considering the type of criminals he defends, I didn’t think he’d get so pissy about a little street racing charge,” she huffs.

“Those other criminals aren’t his nieces.” I laugh. I’ve met her uncle. He’s Melbourne’s best defense attorney, Xavier Christianson—however he’s nowhere near as good as my papa. “How long until you think your dad will find you?”

“I give it another two hours, tops,” Zara says.

“Good. I need a drinking partner, and you’re already dead, so what’s one more charge against you?” I hold up the bottle of wine. “But, if your dad asks, you supplied yourself. I did not give a minor alcohol.”

She’s almost legal. She’ll be eighteen soon, which is the drinking age in this country.

“Deal.” She smiles. “So, why are we drinking. Wait. What are you doing here?” she questions, as if just now realizing I’m in Australia.

“Long story,” I groan.

“I’ve got about an hour and fifty-eight minutes until I’m pig food,” she says with a raised brow.

Her father is not going to feed her to the pigs. We both know that. He might feed them the asshole she was racing, though. “Were you the only one arrested?” I ask her.

“Yeah. I made sure I got caught so he didn’t.”

“Hewho? Who is he?”

She smiles. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Let’s find somewhere comfy to sit.”

“I know a spot.”

Zara brought me into the library, of all places, to sit around drinking. This room wouldn’t have been my first choice. We polished off the entire bottle and grabbed a second, which is now almost empty as well. I have a really nice buzz going on.

The door slams open. And loud, purposeful footsteps echo through the room. “One hour, fifty minutes.” Zara laughs.

“Zara McKinley, you have three seconds to get your ass outside and in my car!” Dominic yells.

Oh yeah, he’s pissed.

Standing, or more like wobbling, I turn and smile in Dom’s direction. “Dominic, always a pleasure to see you.” I walk towards him, about to lean up and kiss his cheek, because that’s what we do when we greet people.

Dominic grabs on to my arms, steadying me. “Are you drunk?” he asks.

“Notdrunk.” I shake my head. “A little buzzed.”

“Aurora, for the love of God, tell me you didn’t give my underage daughter wine,” he groans.

“I didn’t.” I smile. “She gave it to me.”

Dominic lets go of my arms. Once he’s satisfied I’m not going to stumble and fall on my ass, he walks over to the door and yells at the top of his lungs. “Lorenzo!”

“Oh, now we’re both in trouble.” Zara laughs again. “It’s really not that big of a deal, Dad.”

“Not that big of a deal?” Dominic mimics his daughter. “You were fucking arrested for street racing, Zara. Who the hell were you racing?”

“Myself,” she says.

“Yourself, huh? Is that why Ares De Bellis was arrested with you? Just happened to be in the area?” Dominic narrows his glare at her.

I turn to look at Zara. “Ares? Really? You told me you were arrested alone.”