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THE DEVIL YOU KNOW

Author: Kammy
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-04 20:07:07

HIS TOUCH, HER FIREđŸ”„

Chapter Seven — “The Devil You Know”

The sirens came too late.

Evelyn stood in the yard barefoot, jaw locked, blood on her palms from shattered glass. Her ears still rang. Her boots lay discarded by the porch steps, and her heart hadn’t slowed since the shots were fired. Damien stood beside her, phone pressed to his ear, voice clipped and low as he barked instructions to someone on the other end. His jaw was tight, his shirt streaked with ash and sweat, and his eyes scanned the darkness like it might strike again.

The police showed up with all the urgency of men who didn’t believe country girls could be targets. Flashlights. Polite questions. Hollow promises.

“You’re saying someone shot at you?” the older officer asked, chewing gum with a drawl.

“No,” Evelyn bit out, her arms crossed. “I’m saying someone tried to kill me. There's a difference.”

The officer blinked at her tone, then scribbled something in his notepad like it mattered. Damien stayed close but silent, watching the officer like a wolf waiting for him to mess up.

“And you have no idea who it might be?” the deputy added, gaze flicking between them.

Damien stepped forward. “She got a message right before the shooting. Threatening. Anonymous number.”

The deputy raised a brow. “Can we see it?”

Evelyn hesitated, then handed over her phone.

They looked at the text. Then the photo. Then the second message.

The officer whistled. “Damn. You pissed someone off.”

“No shit,” she snapped. “What are you going to do about it?”

“We’ll open a case,” he said, slowly backing away. “But between us, you might want to lie low.”

“Right,” she muttered. “Because hiding’s worked so far.”

The cruiser left with an empty promise to “stay in touch.”

Evelyn turned to Damien, shaking her head. “They’re not going to do anything.”

“No,” he agreed darkly. “They’re not.”

She looked at him, jaw tight. “I want answers.”

“You’re not getting them tonight.”

“I don’t care. I want to know who’s behind this. I want names. I want motives. I want blood.”

He stared at her a moment, then gave a single nod. “Then you’re going to come with me.”

“What?”

“You want the truth?” he said, already walking toward his car. “Fine. But you’d better be ready to see how deep this goes.”

---

The Romano private office was in the city, high above the noise in a building that screamed money and power. Evelyn had never been inside. She hadn’t wanted to be. But now, she sat in the back seat of Damien’s car, clutching her jacket like armor, watching neon reflections roll across the windows as they drove into the city.

Damien didn’t speak the entire ride.

Neither did she.

But tension crackled like live wires in the space between them.

When they arrived, a security guard greeted Damien with a nod, opened a reinforced glass door, and let them inside a floor that looked like it belonged in a crime thriller—dim lighting, tall shelves of archived files, walls made of cold steel and secrets.

“Welcome to the part of my life they don’t put in the press releases,” Damien muttered as he typed in a code.

A door slid open.

A server room? No. A vault.

Evelyn stepped in cautiously. “What is this?”

“Control,” he said. “Or at least the illusion of it.”

He reached into a locked drawer, pulled out a sleek laptop, and opened a file labeled: "Romano Holdings — Conflict Threats."

Her stomach turned.

“How long have you had this?”

“Years. Every time my father screws someone over, or my brothers’ enemies get too bold, it gets recorded. Backgrounds. Motives. Potential retaliation.”

“And you think I’m in here?”

“No,” he said, turning the screen toward her. “But I think whoever’s targeting you might be.”

Names rolled down the screen. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Evelyn scanned until she saw something familiar.

“Wait,” she said, pointing. “That name—Elijah Carr. He owns the warehouse behind the co-op. He’s the one who tried to blackmail my uncle over the land deal.”

Damien frowned. “I know him. He used to work for us before we shut his project down. Rumor was he’d borrowed money from someone... serious.”

“Serious?”

“Illegal,” Damien corrected. “He disappeared for a while. Now he’s back.”

Evelyn stared at the screen. “Do you think he’d come after me?”

“I think he’s a coward. Which makes him dangerous. He’s not the kind of man to attack directly—but he knows people who would.”

She clenched her fists. “Then we find him.”

“You don’t find men like Elijah Carr,” Damien said. “You bait them.”

He looked at her.

Her blood chilled.

“Oh hell no. If you’re about to suggest I put myself out there as a target, forget it.”

“You said you wanted answers.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to die.”

He stepped closer, voice low. “We’re not going to let them touch you. I’ll put two guards on you, have your ranch under surveillance, lock this city down if I have to.”

“I don’t need guards. I need justice.”

He gave her a long look. “Sometimes they’re the same thing. Sometimes they’re not.”

She didn’t reply. But her eyes didn’t leave his.

And neither of them moved.

---

It was past midnight when Damien dropped her back at the ranch. The headlights cut through the dark like knives. He pulled to a stop but didn’t kill the engine.

“I’ll send the guards tonight,” he said.

“I don’t need babysitting.”

“I’m not offering. I’m giving it.”

She turned to him. “You don’t get to play protector. Not now.”

He met her glare with one of his own. “If someone’s coming for you, they won’t get a second chance.”

Evelyn opened the door. Stepped out.

Then turned back.

“What if this was always going to happen? Me. You. This mess.”

“Then we’re already too deep to turn around.”

She didn’t respond.

Just shut the door and walked away, boots crunching gravel.

Inside, the house was dark. Quiet.

She turned on one light.

And screamed.

Marla stood in the kitchen, pale and trembling, holding a letter in her hands.

“What the hell—”

“Someone left this on the porch,” Marla whispered, eyes wide.

Evelyn snatched the envelope and ripped it open.

A single sentence printed in bold red ink:

YOU WERE WARNED. THE NEXT ONE WON’T MISS.

Inside was a photo. A new one.

Her and Damien. In the city. Tonight.

Taken just outside his office.

Her stomach dropped.

“They’re watching me,” she whispered.

“No,” Marla said shakily. “They’re watching everything.”

Evelyn’s breath came fast. Cold sweat coated her spine. The porch. The ranch. The city. They weren’t just being hunted.

They were being tracked.

Marked.

And whoever was behind this wasn’t bluffing anymore.

They were playing a game.

One Evelyn couldn’t afford to lose.

Not now.

Not when the next bullet might not be a warning.

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  • HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE   THE DEVIL YOU KNOW

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  • HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE   WHAT THE FIRE LEFT BEHIND

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  • HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE   SOMETHING YOU SHOULDN'T WANT

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  • HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE   THE HEAT BEHIND THE NAME

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  • HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE   SHADOWS IN THE LIGHT

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  • HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE   THE WARNING BENEATH THE SUIT

    HIS TOUCH, HER FIREđŸ”„---Chapter TwoThe Warning Beneath the SuitThe morning sun barely filtered through the thin curtains of Evelyn’s kitchen window, casting long strips of pale gold across the old wood floor. She stood barefoot on the chilled boards, coffee in hand, hair unbrushed, shirt borrowed from her late father—faded red plaid hanging off one shoulder—and tried to ignore the storm rising in her gut. Last night’s encounter with Damien Romano had not just left her rattled; it had torn something loose inside her. Something dangerous. The man had stepped onto her land like he belonged, like the dirt itself bent beneath his polished shoes, and then he’d spoken with a calm so soaked in arrogance it had made her see red. But it was his eyes that haunted her—silver, unreadable, like moonlight over deep water, hiding the depths beneath. He didn’t just want her land. He wanted control. And maybe... something more. She hated herself for the heat his presence had ignited in her. It had

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