Azrael and the Prince of Hell

REINA

So, this is definitely not the Christmas I expected.

“Enjoy!” I chirp to the kids and their parents with a smile that stretches out my face. Their legs bounce on their chairs, eyes widening with excitement as they immediately clamor for the gingerbread men and sugar cookies shaped like bells and stars in the trays I served.

I can’t help a small chuckle despite myself as I walk away.

Then my eyes drift to my wristwatch, and my lips immediately pull into a pout. A whole hour left for this shift to be over.

I still have to feed the pigs at John’s sty and serve tables at the club, I think distastefully. Yesterday was just my first day as a waitress at the club, and I'm already over it. Only a few weeks before Christmas, and I already lost all iota of Christmas spirit.

Unfortunately, rent has to be paid one way or the other. Suck it up, Reina.

I get a nudge just as I start to rest my back against the wall behind the counter. I turn to face Gina who’s… blushing pink?

“Are you okay?” I ask, straightening.

She turns and nods her head towards a table at the back. Brows raised, I slowly turn, following her gaze. Oh, holy mother of pearls.

My jaw falls flat open in an animated manner and I turn back to Gina, at the same time she whisper-screams,

“I know! I know! I know!”

I meet Frank, our manager’s eyes across the room and I clear my throat, nudging Gina. We both wipe every trace of our smiles off our faces at once. Seconds later, he looks away and we’re back to drooling over the dessert of a man seated at the far end of the bakery. If this is how the universe decides to apologize to me today, I fully accept the apology.

This man has a concentrated expression on his face, eyes fixed on his phone. The dark curls of his hair frame his forehead and his sharp, chiseled jaw clenches as he types away.

He looks like he doesn’t want to be here at all, surrounded by sweet snacks, lights and soft Christmas tunes. My gaze flickers to the reason I assume he’s here. The little boy with him is also engrossed in his iPad, but he looks a tad bit more excited than Mr. Hot Grumps.

I can’t see his face fully, but his body… those broad shoulders fill up his knitted sweater nicely, I wonder if this man would even break a sweat lifting me.

I scoff. Now why would he lift me?

“That’s Alan King.” Gina pulls me out of my thoughts. “I gather you might not know him, but he’s the sexiest single dad I know… the richest too. In his late thirties, but I don’t mind at all. So! Do you think I look hot enough? I’m going to serve him now.”

I take a few steps back, my fingers under my chin as I pretend to assess her.

“I think…”

Her lips curve in a cute-ish smile and she winks. I burst into laughter.

“Please don’t do that.”

“Why?!”

“Gina.” Frank’s voice cut into our conversation and I clear my throat, standing straighter. Gina spins around.

“Yes, Frank?”

“Follow me. We have to pick up some supplies down the street. Need someone to help me, the boys are pretty busy.” He says.

Gina gasps. “What?”

“Hurry up, boss is waiting.” He starts to walk away, ignoring the explanation she tries to give him.

Gina slams the menu she’d been holding on the counter and storms off. I swallow.

Guess I’ll be serving Mr. Hot Grumps’ table. Yay?

I grab the menu off the counter and after a deep breath, I start to scurry towards his table.

“Hello Sirs, what can I get you?”

The kid looks up first. He adjusts his glasses up his nose, his eyes fixed on my neck. I raise a concerned brow, then glance at my neck too. Oh.

My fingers clutch my anime-themed neckpiece.

“You know Kaio too?” I ask him, tapping the face of the neckpiece so Kaio the cloud dragon floats on the cloud. His eyes widen and he drops his iPad, drawing closer. I tap the neckpiece again and Kaio breaks into a dance.

Kaio is too prim and proper for a dance like this, so I burst out laughing and the little boy chuckles softly too. That’s when Mr Hot Grumps snaps his head up.

I jerk straighter for some reason, my hand falling away from the neckpiece. Oh, Alan King is not a pretty man, not in any way. Pretty from afar, maybe, but absolutely terrifying up close.

He’s the kind of gorgeousness that feels unattainable, far-fetched and yet, utterly consuming. His gray eyes are smoldering, his jaw precisely cut. His nose is straighter than a ruler, and his cheekbones sit high on his face.

I lick my dry lips, trying to make sure I’m not gawking. I’ve not felt this bothered by a man in years. Okay, never. He’s looking around now, like he’s trying to ascertain where the previous laughter had come from.

When his eyes meet mine, an electric jolt courses through my veins and my thighs clench around nothing. Shit. When did I become such a slut?

“Did you… something funny, Ethan?” He asks, cutting his curious gaze to his son, who quickly looks back into his iPad, every trace of a smile gone from his face.

Oh?

I’m not ready for when his gaze slams on me. Dark. Questioning. I clear my throat, my fingers fumbling with the neckpiece.

I try a smile, “It’s a necklace for Kaio. Anime… if you watch.”

Alan looks confused still, but nods once. His eyes linger on the neckpiece, then lower. My nipples bud under my bra. When his eyes snap back to mine, it almost feels like he knows…

He says nothing about it, though. Only stretches his hand for the menu and I hand it to him, hoping he doesn’t notice how shaky I’ve gotten.

Our fingers brush for the slightest moment and I snatch my hand away quickly. A flush creeps up to my neck and I hope he doesn’t notice. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. I finally glance back at him.

His eyes are busy scanning through the paper. Alan’s lips press into a thin, humorless line, his brows knit together, and he outright just stares at the menu like it’s personally offended him.

I clench my fists and press my lips together as well, barely holding back a laugh. Never seen anyone have such a hard time trying to pick a snack. Definitely, he’s only here because of his son.

“Just water.” He finally settles, releasing the second button of his black shirt. His eyes lock on mine as he does, as if he’s waiting for me to question his decision. I quickly tear my eyes off his buttons, taking the menu from him so I can read it out to Ethan.

“Your turn, cutie. We have some sugar cookies, pies—”

He sighs, facing me. “I can read. I’m eight.”

Oh.

I place the menu onto his waiting hand, then lift my hands up in surrender. His lips twitch.

“That’s so smart, I’m jealous.”

He shrugs, makes his order, and his eyes fall on my neckpiece again. This time, he finally looks to his dad.

“Dad, can I get the neckpiece?” His voice is almost inaudible, I only manage to piece what he’d said together. “Please?” He prods when Alan only sits up on his chair, his eyes a bit wide.

“Sure. Sure, uh, how much—”

I shake my head, “Sorry Sir… this is kind of… it’s custom, I guess. My brother made it himself, there hasn’t been another design like it. Though I’m sure you can find several neckpieces with Kaio on it.”

Alan’s fist clenches on the table. Ethan’s shoulders slump, but he looks at his dad with so much hope, like he trusts him to fix this.

Alan presses, “I’ll pay anything for it. Just get another one done.”

“I’m sorry Sir, it’s impossible.” I mutter, recalling Tee’s words about never trying to make the neckpiece again even for a million bucks. He spent days trying to get a concept, and didn’t even get it in the end. This is simply a watered down edition of his original concept. Even if he makes the neckpiece again, I doubt it’s going to come out the same.

Alan looks over at Ethan who’s busy punching hard on his iPad. He takes a deep breath and glances back at me, his controlled expression morphing into a deep frown, “How is that? I can give you good money to reenact it.”

It’s my turn to frown. Looks like he’s one of those assholes that think everything can be fixed with money.

I respond, “Won’t come out the same. I’m sorry Sir. I’ll just go get the orders.”

I scurry off, unable to look at Ethan again as I go.

As I stand behind the counter, heating up Ethan’s snacks, I can’t help but notice the tension on their table. Ethan is back to being engrossed with his iPad. Alan tries to speak to him, but he’s barely paying attention.

I unconsciously grip my neckpiece, then swallow.

A minute later, I’m serving the snacks at their table. Ethan only spares me a glance, then sets his iPad aside as I lay out his snacks. I also set Alan’s water on the table.

“Here.” I eventually say to Ethan after serving, and he snaps his head up at once. I silently ask for his hand, then I press the neckpiece into it, a soft smile playing on my lips. He breaks out in a smile too.

I feel a pair of eyes bore into me. My skin flushes at once—it’s like my body’s been programmed to react to every move this man makes.

I try to avoid his hot gaze as I say,

“I mean, I expected a better thank you but that’s okay too. I can work with that cheeky smile.” I shrug.

Ethan hesitates, then gets off his seat and goes to wrap his arms around me. The action is so sudden, it genuinely catches me off guard. My lips pull into a pout at once, and I hug him back firmly. When I look to his father with a smile still playing on my lips, Alan looks like he’s just seen a ghost.

“Thank you…” Ethan’s soft voice drags my attention away from his dad.

“Uh… you’re welcome.”

I help him put the neckpiece on, then head back to my door behind the counter. I serve two more tables and then Alan King starts walking up to me.

My stomach does a flip.

I straighten at once, “Is everything okay, Sir?”

He stops right in front of the counter, his cologne filling my space. He studies me briefly, not hiding it at all.

“Ethan likes you.”

I manage a smile. “You think?”

He doesn’t answer that. Instead he says, “He’s never warmed up to someone that fast. Not even when…”

I raise a brow. His jaw clenches.

“You could work for me. Be Ethan’s nanny. For a good pay.”

I start to shake my head, “Oh, no Sir. I already work three jobs, I can’t afford—”

“Five thousand dollars to work for the Christmas break. Enough for you to quit all three jobs.”

Five thousand… I could sort out the rent and gramma’s medicine without smelling like pigs or working night shifts!

But… Is this man a drug dealer or something? Gramma speaks so much about blood money and how much she hates it…

Can a normal working person spare five thousand dollars for weeks of nannying an eight year old? Probably. Do I want to fuck around and find out if this is normal or not? Not really.

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t…”

Alan’s phone rings, cutting me off. He checks the screen, annoyance flickering briefly across his face. Then he pulls out a sleek, black card from his wallet and places it on the counter between us.

“You can think about it.” He says, already taking a step back. “Contact me if you’re interested in the offer.”

And he stalks away, leaving me to just stare at his card on the table.

Five grand for Christmas with a hot stranger who just got me wet on the job—without touching me—and his adorable, yet strange kid. I should tear the card up. I don’t. I pick it off the table and slip it into my pocket instead.