Tempting devil, p.1
Tempting Devil, page 1
Tempting Devil
Saint Trilogy
Book 2
T.K. Leigh
TEMPTING DEVIL
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or, if an actual place, are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not sponsored, associated, or endorsed by the trademark owner.
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Published by Carpe Per Diem Publishing, Inc
Cover Design: Cat Head Media, Inc.
Cover assets © 2024
Used under license from DepositPhotos
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Copyright © 2024
All rights reserved.
Tempting Devil
After five years, I’m finally about to get everything I’ve dreamed of — revenge against the men who destroyed my life.
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There’s just one tiny complication — Imogene Prescott.
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She was just supposed to be a tool, someone I’d use then toss out with the trash I thought she was.
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She wasn’t supposed to get under my skin.
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She wasn’t supposed to give me a reason to live.
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But she did.
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Now I have a choice to make — love or revenge.
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But no matter what I chose, I fear it won’t be enough to protect her from the dangerous truth I’ve hidden from her.
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Confucius warned to dig two graves when embarking on a journey of revenge.
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I didn’t plan on one of those graves belonging to her.
Contents
Books by T.K. Leigh
Content Warning
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Final Vendetta
Connect with Me
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by T.K. Leigh
For a full list of all of T.K.’s books, including recommended reading order, please visit T.K.’s website:
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www.tkleighauthor.com
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Content Warning
Some of T.K. Leigh’s books may contain content that could be triggering for sensitive readers. For a full list of content warnings for each book and/or series, please visit her website. Click here or scan the code below.
Prologue
End of Cruel Saint
Imogene
I didn’t think today was ever going to end. Not because I didn’t love my job.
But because of all the texts Gideon kept sending, each one becoming increasingly explicit, turning me on more and more.
Which was incredibly inconvenient, since I was at work and couldn’t do anything about the ache between my legs.
It got so bad that I told him I was turning off my phone and would text him when I was off work.
So he could hopefully get me off.
I just prayed he would be able to come over. I was desperate to see him. Not just to have sex, although that certainly entered into the equation.
But because I genuinely enjoyed his company. I loved how he accepted me as I was, quirks and all.
Loved how good he was to Ollie, something Liam never was.
Loved how we could sit in silence and it not feel awkward, like during our road trip down the coast.
The more time I spent with him, the more I believed some higher power sent him my way to help heal the hole in my heart left behind by Samuel’s absence.
Better yet, maybe Samuel sent him to tell me it was okay to move on.
Approaching my car, I hit the unlock button on my key fob and opened the door. My bag landed on the passenger’s seat with a thump as I climbed behind the wheel, pulling out my cell and powering it on.
As expected, I was bombarded with multiple texts.
But they weren’t from Gideon.
Instead, they were from Melanie, my parents, and even Liam.
But that wasn’t all.
A breaking news alert flashed across the screen, announcing that Alton Sinclair had been found in a remote mountain cabin, dead from an apparent suicide.
Regret squeezed at my chest as I recalled some of the things I’d said about him. I was never particularly close to him. I always found him somewhat egotistical and pompous. Not to mention, I hated how he treated women and definitely didn’t approve of his business practices that had come to light in recent days.
Regardless of my personal feelings toward him, I still didn’t wish death on him.
I quickly hit Melanie’s contact as I put my car into drive, my mind spinning.
“Gin!” Melanie exhaled, relief filling her voice. “I was so worried. Your phone was going straight to voicemail, and after…” She trailed off, her words catching. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. Did you hear about Alton?”
“I did,” I replied in a shaky voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“I knew you were at work, but after everything.” She fought to reel in her emotions. “I didn’t even like that asshole, but I can’t believe he’s—”
“I know.” I swallowed hard. “Have you spoken with Liam?”
“A few hours ago.”
“How is he?”
“I don’t know. He sounded…off.”
“Off?” I echoed.
“I don’t know how to explain it. I’m heading down right now to see him. Will you be there?” she asked hesitantly, fully aware of the argument we got into a few days ago.
Now I felt even worse about that argument.
What if I’d turned on my phone and learned Liam had died? I’d never forgive myself for the way I treated him. We may have had our disagreements, but I wasn’t completely heartless. I still cared about him.
“I’ll be there,” I assured her.
“Good. See you soon. Drive carefully.”
“You, too.”
“And Imogene?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mel.”
I ended the call, then tossed my cell onto the front seat, sending up a silent prayer for Alton. I’d never been one to pray, but it felt like the right thing to do. Plus, what else was I going to do while I inched along the freeway?
After a longer than normal drive through heavy traffic, I finally pulled up to the ornate gate at the entrance to Liam’s house and punched in my access code. I half expected it wouldn’t work. Thankfully, the gate sprung open and I navigated my car up the cobbled drive, parking in front of his home.
“Ms. Prescott,” Liam’s housekeeper greeted when she answered the door.
“I’m sorry for showing up like this, but is Liam— Mr. Pierce here? I just heard the news and wanted to check on him.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Of course, dear. He’s in his office with Senator Turner. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, though. They both will.”
“Thank you.” I stepped into the cavernous entryway, my footfalls echoing against the polished marble tile.
As I walked down the darkened hallway toward his off
But as I drew closer to Liam’s office, the feeling intensified, sending a chill down my spine. I paused outside the door and drew in a deep breath before reaching out to knock. When I heard raised voices coming from inside, I hesitated, straining to listen.
“Maybe it’s an old glass,” Liam said, his tone laced with anxiety. “One that hasn’t been washed lately.”
“One that was conveniently left on the coffee table next to Alton’s?” James countered, his voice mirroring the nerves in Liam’s.
“What other possible explanation is there?” Liam interjected, his frustration increasing by the second.
I imagined him pacing the length of the room as he tugged on his hair. Or tie. Or guzzled whatever he was drinking.
It was more than apparent something had him on edge. Something to do with a glass. But what glass? And why was that important? Did they find something indicating that perhaps Alton didn’t kill himself?
“Somebody must have made a mistake,” Liam continued, as if his declaration would make it so. “Have them run the prints again.”
“They already have. Twice. Along with quite a few other items found in close proximity to Alton’s body. Initially, it was to confirm the cause of death, but the second glass on the coffee table stumped them, so they ran it to see if someone else was in the room with Alton.” He lowered his voice. “To see if maybe you were in the room with him, considering…recent events.”
“I told you!” Liam roared. “I have no idea how that damn body ended up on my boat. I haven’t been to that marina in months. There’s no record of me using my access card at the gate.”
“I believe you, but that doesn’t change the evidence they uncovered at Alton’s cabin.”
No one spoke for several long moments, the only sound that of a grandfather clock keeping time in the distance.
“What does this mean?” Liam asked finally.
“Either someone planted his fingerprints there to fuck with us.”
“Or…” Liam prodded, although I could hear the hesitation in his voice.
“Or Samuel Tate’s back from the dead.”
Chapter One
Samuel
Five Years Ago
The reflection of the warm, golden light danced and shimmered on the sleek surface of the diamond, making it sparkle against the dimly lit backdrop of my home office.
There were a thousand things I should have been doing besides staring at this engagement ring. That was the thing no one ever told me about success — with success came the responsibility to ensure the livelihoods of each and every one of my employees.
But right now, all I could think about was Imogene.
And how it felt like my plans for giving her this ring were slipping away.
I thought it would go off without a hitch. I’d surprise her with a belated birthday trip to Hilton Head now that she was done with finals. We’d take Ollie, since she loved that dog as much as I did. I’d attach the ring to his collar, then have him run up to her. When she’d notice the ring box on his collar, I’d drop down to one knee and ask her to be my wife.
But it didn’t look like that would be happening this weekend.
Unbeknownst to me, my best friend and business partner — who also happened to be one of Imogene’s closest friends — also planned a surprise for her. An elaborate party at The Swan House in Atlanta he bought out for the occasion, costing him thousands of dollars.
Imogene didn’t even like parties, especially the type of party Liam liked to throw, inviting anyone who was someone to be there.
I hoped to use this as a way to convince her to finally tell him the truth about us, like I’d been begging her to do since her actual birthday.
While I wanted to keep what we had a secret from my best friend in the beginning, too, I now regretted ever making that agreement. Wished I’d thrown caution to the wind and refused to hide what we had from everyone.
I thought I was doing the right thing. I saw the way Liam looked at her. Knew his feelings for her went beyond that of a close friend. A part of me hoped he’d eventually get over it once he realized she didn’t return those feelings.
That never happened.
Now, I was tired of having to hide what I shared with Imogene because she was scared of how Liam might react. Of losing him as a friend. Would she ever want to tell him the truth?
Or was she content for me to remain her dirty little secret?
I thought buying her a ring and proposing would show her how serious I was.
Now, after our argument earlier today, I questioned everything.
Even if I convinced her to take this next step, was this what our marriage would be like? Her always choosing Liam over me because of some misplaced responsibility she felt toward him, all because her sorry excuse for a sperm donor took Liam’s mother from him?
From the beginning, I thought their friendship was toxic. After witnessing how much he manipulated her over the past year, that feeling had only grown stronger.
What would it take for her to see what everyone else did?
The shrill chirping of my cell broke the silence, and I shut the velvet box, tucking the ring back into the top drawer of my desk.
Grabbing my phone off the surface, I clicked on the incoming text from Jonah, one of the teenagers I mentored at the local community center I founded a few years ago when my gaming platform took off.
If it weren’t for this kind of program, I wouldn’t be where I was today. There was no question in my mind about starting a program like this as my own way of doing something useful with the money I’d made, instead of simply watching it grow in my bank account.
Jonah:
The asshole came home drunk again.
I cursed under my breath, clenching my jaw.
Like most kids in my program, Jonah had a rough home life — an abusive father who drank a lot, then took it out on everyone else. This was the reason he wanted to learn martial arts. Not to be able to hurt his asshole father, but to learn how to take a punch so his mother didn’t have to.
As I learned early in life, calling the police didn’t always help in these types of situations. Especially for kids who lived in neighborhoods where violence and crime ran rampant. Even if the cops did make an arrest, it rarely helped. The instant they returned home, things would be much worse than they were before. Instead, you just learned to take the abuse as you counted down the days until you could finally be free.
Me:
Are you okay? How about your mom?
Jonah:
I was able to distract him long enough for her to get out with the younger ones.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I hated that this was the world Jonah was forced to grow up in. I didn’t have it much better, but at least I had my foster brothers to depend on when shit got bad.
