Read The Devil's Dream: A Dark Romance (Dark Romance Novel Book 1) Online
Authors: Stella Noir,Roxy Sinclaire
The Devil's Dream: A Dark Romance (Dark Romance Novel Book 1)
The Devil’s Dream
By Stella Noir and Roxy Sinclaire
© 2016 Stella Noir, Roxy Sinclaire
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
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Table of Contents
“Thank you, Doctor Kane, you’re a miracle worker.”
Stavros gave the woman sitting in front of him a brilliant smile. “I’m glad I can help, Ms. Miller.”
The brunette sat forward, giving him a generous view of her cleavage, “Please, call me Jennifer,” she said in a drawl.
His eyes dropped to her surgically enhanced chest, then back to her face. “Jennifer. So, same time next week?”
She smiled, “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.” She eyed him seductively, “If there is any other way I can show my appreciation to you for helping me with my little problem—I mean
anything
—just let me know.”
He cleared his throat. “I will keep that in mind, Jennifer.” He watched in amusement as she got up and sauntered to the door. He grinned and shook his head once he was alone in his office.
If he had more time on his hands, he might have taken Jennifer up on her offer. It wouldn’t be the first time he had a bit of fun in his office. It was amazing how many women came to him for psychiatric help and ended up throwing themselves at him.
He glanced at the clock on his desk. It was approaching six— time for him to close up for the day. Throwing several documents in to his briefcase, he closed it and exited his office. His secretary looked up as he approached her desk. She smiled broadly, “Off already Mr. Kane?”
He glanced at the older woman with graying hair and smiled fondly. “Yes, Marie, I’m going off a bit earlier this evening.”
“Hot date?” she asked, teasingly.
He chuckled, “Hardly. I have some business to tend to tonight.”
“Remember, Stavros, all work and no play will make you a dull boy.”
He roared out a laugh, “I'll keep that in mind, Marie. Have a good evening, and don’t close up too late.” He walked off. If she had even the slightest idea how much fun he really did have, she would have a coronary attack. She had never seen the side of him that he kept hidden from the world. The dark side that treaded a path so far removed from the respected psychiatrist that everyone saw. He grunted softly and stepped into the elevator. He turned around to see Marie waving at him. He grinned and waved until the door closed. Once he was alone, the grin transformed into a wicked smirk. The fun that he intended to have tonight wasn’t something he could share with his matronly secretary.
***
Ah night, my favorite time
. Stavros took in the summer air. Standing on the balcony of his penthouse apartment, his eyes swept over Miami. The city was illuminated with bright lights. His lips lifted into a slight grin around the Cuban cigar lodged between his lips. There was plenty of fun to be had on a night like this. He turned to walk inside. The headline on the nightly news caught his attention.
Neuro Takes Miami by Storm
.
He picked up the remote and turned up the volume. The voice of the female newscaster filled the room. “The use of the drug Neuro, also known as Impact, has increased drastically over the past three months. Authorities are still unable to identify the drug lord responsible for the circulation of the mind-altering drug.”
Stavros smiled as an image of himself appeared on the television screen. He watched, highly amused as he told the interviewer and the millions of people watching about the effects of the new and potentially dangerous drug that has gripped the Miami party scene. “That was Dr. Stavros Kane, giving us a few details about the drug—” He lifted the remote and muted the TV once again. He glanced at the Cartier gracing his wrist. It was ten o’clock, time for him to check on business. Putting his cigar in an ash tray, he picked up his suit jacket and shrugged into it.
He maneuvered his silver Bentley through the busy Miami streets. The local nightlife was always pulsing. He gave a satisfied grin. It was perfect for his line of business—his other line of business, the one that no one knew about. Pulling up to the most popular club in South Beach, he unfolded his tall frame from the car and threw the valet his keys. Walking up to the door, he nodded to the bouncer, who immediately allowed him entrance. He had bought the club under a false name three years ago and left it to his right-hand man to run. It was a place where he was able to do business freely. His eyes roamed around the dimly lit room, taking in everyone as he sauntered towards the back with a lazy, confident gait. Women gave him second and third glances, and he returned a few appreciative looks. His lips curled, thinking of the carnal possibilities for later, once he was finished with business.
Making his way through the crowd, he disappeared through a back door. He walked down a shadowy hallway until a door came into sight. He knocked twice and waited patiently until it cracked open. “Sir, come on in,” a bald, stocky man greeted him, stepping aside. Stavros stepped inside, and all eyes turned to him. He studied the faces of the three men seated at a table before walking forward to sit at the head.
“Good evening, all,” he nodded to the men, all of whom were eyeing him with a mix of admiration and fear.
“Good evening boss,” they chorused.
His gaze fell on the man sitting to his right, the only man who didn’t have fear in his eyes. Instead, he saw respect and amusement. “Jeremy, what do you have for me?”
Jeremy smirked and produced a briefcase. “I saw you in the news, boss. I have to say, that stunt was pretty ballsy of you.”
Stavros cocked an eyebrow. “What can I say? I’m a ballsy guy,” he drawled. He flipped open the briefcase and smiled with satisfaction. “I trust it is all here?”
“Two million, boss,” Jeremy confirmed.
“Good.” He snapped the case shut. “Everyone, out.”
The other men quickly got up and scattered at his simple command. Only Jeremy remained seated. Stavros pinned the only man he trusted with a piercing gaze. “Any problems?”
Jeremy shrugged, regarding him with hooded eyes, “Nothing I couldn't handle.”
Studying him intently, Stavros went on, “As much as I trust you Jer, don’t give me that shit. You know I want all the details.”
“We almost got caught with a shipment yesterday. No big deal, boss. It was handled.”
“We need to cut down on activities for a little while.”
“But we need to get Neuro distributed.”
“I said
cut down
, not stop entirely. I have distribution covered on my end for now. Just long enough for the DEA to stop sniffing around, at least for a while.”
Jeremy cocked an eyebrow, “How the hell are you managing that,
doctor
?”
“That’s none of your damn business, Jeremy.”
Clutching his chest with a bemused smile, Jeremy said, “I’m wounded, boss. You know you can trust me.”
Stavros’s lips curled, “I like keeping a few things to myself Jer, no offense.” He pushed his chair back and got up. Shoving the briefcase to his friend, he said, “Get this to my car and stay out of sight. I’m going into the club to find a willing participant for my activities tonight.”
Jeremy snorted. “I don’t think you'll have to search too hard.”
Stavros sauntered through the crowded club and headed to the bar. He ordered a drink and leaned against the counter, his eyes roaming the dark room idly. He didn’t stand alone for too long. The confidence and darkness he exuded garnered him female attention. They gazed at his six-foot-plus frame and dark good looks with blatant lust. He made eye contact with a woman dancing alone. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled seductively, silently inviting her over. She leisurely made her way to him. “Hi,” she breathed. “I’m Wendy.”
“Hello, Wendy,” he drawled. His gaze ran over the red head in a predatory manner. “What are you drinking?”
Her eyebrows shot up, “You assume I want anything to drink.”
“Have something,” he insisted softly, exerting the control he loved to have.
She stared up at him for a few seconds. He silently dared her to refuse. “Ok,” she finally gave in. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
He grinned, “After this, we ought to go somewhere more private.” He could see in the rise and fall of her chest that her breathing had quickened. He watched her lift her glass to her lips. Her skin appeared flushed, and he could see her squirm beneath his intense gaze. He lifted his own glass to hide his smile. He never got tired of sexually intimidating his conquests, and she would most definitely be his conquest for the night. He stirred with excitement at the things that were to come when he got Wendy back to a hotel room. He never brought a woman to his home, especially not a one-night stand. He had denied himself the pleasure of indulging in some of his darker activities for quite a few nights, and he couldn’t wait to get the willing redhead alone.
He put his glass down and reached for Wendy’s hand. “Let’s go.”
She took a deep breath and placed her hand in his, unable to resist his bold offer. “Ok.” His fingers wrapped around her hands and led her to the club’s exit. On his way out, he caught Jeremy’s eye. He nodded, sending him a look telling him not to bother him for the rest of the night. Jeremy smirked and gave a mock salute.
Kiana dropped her head on her desk and let out a loud groan. “God, I need some sleep,” she muttered. Lifting her head up, she rubbed her bloodshot eyes and yawned. She squinted at her computer screen but quickly averted her gaze. A migraine was in the making.
How the hell am I going to get anything done?
She pushed her chair back and jumped up in frustration. “This is pointless.” She walked across her small living room to stare out the window. She had been sitting at her desk for two hours, and she still hadn’t gotten anything done. The process of sitting down to work and not accomplishing anything had gone on for too long. She was falling behind on her work, which she needed to keep a roof over her head and pay her mountain of bills.
She sighed. If only she could get some sleep, maybe that would end her unproductive streak. But sleep had become awfully elusive over the past few weeks. Her insomnia was something she thought she had gotten over. She hadn’t had any symptoms in almost two years, until it all came back two months ago. It was now worse than ever, affecting her at least four nights out of every week. She couldn’t focus long enough to read one paragraph of writing on her computer. How could she keep her job as an editor if she couldn’t even keep her eyes open and brain focused long enough to read through a single page?
Over the last month, she had lost several clients because of her inability to work. She was way off schedule with the work that she had managed to keep in her grasp, not to mention the many complaints she had gotten from some clients.
She loved her job dearly. She had worked hard to get her Bachelor’s degree in English and had stumbled upon online editing jobs from her own home. She didn’t have to leave her apartment if she didn’t want to, which suited her just fine, considering that she was usually too on-edge to go out into the world. She loved hiding out in her little apartment, but if she couldn’t function mentally or physically to do her job, she'd have to go looking for a day job for sure. She growled in frustration. “If I could just manage a power-nap or something, I would feel so much better.”
Her cell phone began to vibrate. She made her way to her desk to pick it up quickly. Even the soft buzz of the phone was grating on her wired nerves. “Yes?” she snapped.
“Hello to you, too.”
The slight hurt in her sister’s tone sent a sliver of guilt through her. Kiana sighed and closed her eyes briefly, “I’m sorry, Jasmine. I’m just tired. What’s up?”
“I should be asking what’s up with you. Why so snippy, little sis?”
“I didn’t sleep last night.”
Or the night before that or the night before that…
“And I have a ton of work piled up, which I’m having a hard time doing.” She rubbed her forehead, tying to assuage the pounding pain increasing behind her eyes. “Sorry, that was no excuse for me answering you like that.”
“It’s ok. It’s happening again isn’t it?”
“By
it
, I assume you mean my little sleeping problem?”
“Mhmm.”
“Yup, it’s back. And it is has returned with a vengeance.”
Jasmine paused for a few seconds before asking, “How long now?”
“About two months or so.”
“
What
? Why haven’t you said anything?”
Kiana rolled her eyes. “And telling you would have accomplished what, exactly?” she snarled.
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Look, I know I let you down in the past, Kiana, but I’m here now, and I want to make up for what I did. You can at least talk to me. Maybe if you get things off of your mind, you will be able to relax.”
Kiana sighed. “Jaz, there really isn’t anything I wish to talk about, alright? It’s over; the past is the past, move on. I have.”
“But Ki—”
“Don’t, Jaz, I said forget it. Hopefully this bout of insomnia will stop, just like it did the last time.”
“I should come over.”
“No, I have too much work to do.”
“Then let’s go out later. Maybe if you get out of your apartment, have a few drinks and unwind, you'll be able to sleep tonight.”
Kiana nibbled on her nails, contemplating the idea. Her sister’s offer did sound pretty good. Going out might exhaust her just enough, and a few shots of alcohol just might knock her out. “Um, no, you know I don’t like to go out much.”
Jasmine gave an exaggerated sigh, “Yeah, I know you don’t like to leave that matchbox apartment of yours. I swear, Kiana, you’re like a borderline agro-something or another. You know the people who're afraid of going outside.”
“I am not an agoraphobic, Jaz.”
“Well stop acting like one. Get out your little black dress and some cute heels. We’re going out tonight. I’m convinced it will help you to sleep.”
Kiana shook her head. If she didn’t give in to her sister’s demand, she would never get off the phone. “Alright, tonight then.”
Jasmine squealed, “Good girl! I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Ok.” Kiana threw down her phone. It couldn’t be that hard getting through the night with her sister, or maybe it
would
be hard. If Jasmine went overboard with trying to compensate for their childhood, she would go insane. It was the most irritating thing to have her older sister constantly look at her with guilty puppy-dog eyes.
“I shouldn’t have agreed to go out,” she murmured to herself. She glanced at the laptop sitting on her desk and snapped it closed. There was no point in making another attempt at work. She dragged her fatigued body to drop onto the couch and flip on the TV. With any luck, she would be lulled to sleep by some boring, god-awful program. She flipped through the channels looking for the thing to bore her to sleep.
“Ah, here we go, a soap opera.” She lay down and curled up on the couch. Loud snorts escaped her lips from time to time as she watch the daytime drama. She always did find soap operas, fairy tales, and most romance novels laughable.
As the television program progressed, she was still wide awake. She groaned.
Of course this wouldn’t work, nothing works.
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax. “Do you suffer from severe insomnia?” came a voice on the television. Kiana’s eyes flew open at the sound of the question.
Yes.
She listened raptly to the very good-looking and charming man on the TV screen. She turned up the volume. The doctor spoke of a sleep study being conducted for insomniacs. Everything that he mentioned, she fitted the criteria.
“Sounds like they made a study just for me,” she mused. The study was being conducted at a clinic right there in Miami. She grabbed a pen and quickly wrote down the phone number. Long after the sexy doctor disappeared from the screen, she stared at the piece of paper in her hand.
Should I call?
She bit her nails, thinking long and hard.
She didn’t much like the idea of being studied in a lab like some kind of rat. On the other hand, she needed to seek help, because her problem seemed to have worsened. She glanced at her desk. She really didn’t want to lose her job, and she definitely would if this mental block kept up at this rate.
“It wouldn't hurt to call and get a few more details, I guess.” She got up to retrieve her cell.
***
“So, I think I might have found a way to get some help for my sleeping problem.”
Jasmine rested her glass on the bar, “Oh? How?”
Kiana smiled, “I’m going to take part in a sleep study.” She took a long swig of her vodka.
Jasmine’s face fell. She studied Kiana with honey-brown eyes, much like her own. “A fucking sleep study? You can’t be serious. Shouldn’t you go to a doctor and get some sleeping pills or something?”
“Watch your language, we’re in a crowd,” Kiana hissed.
“Sorry, Miss English Major, but that sounds useless.”
“For your information, I
will
be getting medication, and I
will
be seen by one of the best psychiatrists in the country. The best part is that I won't have to pay a dime. God knows I don’t have the money to pay for medication, much less a respectable psych.” She smiled broadly, “I get a free ride just for participating and letting them hook me up to their machines or whatever while I sleep.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes, “It sounds weird. I don’t want my baby sister hooked up to any machines.”
“Tough luck, sis, I already scheduled an interview for tomorrow. Don’t worry, it’s just a screening to see if I fit what they're looking for, so I might not even get in.” She shrugged. “I just figured that I have nothing to lose by checking it out.”
Jasmine patted her braided hair while she stared across the bar. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
Kiana grunted, “I doubt they'll pump me up with chemicals and turn me into freaking Spiderman or something.”
“Spiderman was bitten by a spider, you nerd.”
“Whatever, you know what I mean.” She drained the contents of her glass. “I’m doing the interview. If I get in, awesome, and if I don’t, I’ll try to find another solution. I just need a good night’s sleep. I feel like crap.”
“At least you don’t look like crap,” Jasmine murmured. “That guy over there has been checking you out and
in
since we got here.” Kiana followed her sister’s gaze across the bar. “You’re not supposed to look,” Jasmine hissed.
Startled, Kiana quickly averted her gaze, “How else am I going to see who you’re talking about?” she hissed back.
“Ok, now look. But play it cool.”
She shot Jasmine an annoyed glance before carrying her gaze back across the bar. The man she made eye contact with smiled. He held her gaze before getting up to slowly approach the duo. “Oh my God, he’s coming over. What do I do?”
Jasmine snickered, “One would think you’re a virgin, acting like that. Just chill and talk to him! You know, maybe if you got laid more often, you'd be able to sleep better.”
“Shut up,” Kiana hissed through clenched teeth. Although, her sister might be onto something, she thought grudgingly. Jasmine had no idea she had never really experienced
real
sex, although she was no virgin. The man stopped behind Kiana, and she swiveled around in her stool.
“Hello gorgeous,” he drawled.
She studied him from beneath her lashes. He certainly was handsome, with dark brown skin and dark eyes. He was a few inches taller than her five feet, six inches frame.
“Hi,” she uttered timidly.
He extended a hand, “Marcus Reid. Can I buy you ladies a drink?” He asked, acknowledging Jasmine for the first time.
“Kiana Taylor,” she introduced herself, placing her hand in his. “This is my sister, Jasmine, and I think we would like that, thanks.” She beamed up at him, feeling a bit more confident with her sister beside her.
