EXTRACT FOR
Devil's Experiment
(Daisy Rose)

"And who's that there," he asked, turning to me so abruptly that I jumped and stepped back behind the boxes. 



"That's just one of our cleaners," one of the chefs said.



The black devil. I froze on the spot and dropped my head, trying to appear as small as possible. I've heard rumors about him. The girls whispered about the mysterious devil that comes every few months to steal one of the girls from the kitchen. The girls chosen never return and were never heard back from again.



It wasn't hard to believe. We were mostly orphans, or girls who'd run away from home in hopes of getting a better life. The manager took us in because we were cheap labor. We were paid five hundred dollars a month in addition to food and lodgings. Nobody would miss us if we disappeared. 



There were stories, wild unbelievable stories that were whispered in the dead of the night. Most involved ritual sacrifices. It was the only way they could explain how he earned his millions from nothing. He made a deal with the devil.



The most outlandish story, and the one I secretly enjoyed the most, was the one about him being unable to get a normal girlfriend, because he was so endowed that the women could not stand him. It made me imagine how powerful and large he must be. I thought of what it must be like to ride something to big and powerful.



I licked my lips and gulped, then lifted my gaze to spy at him. 



Looking at him now, he wasn't so different from the rest of us. 



"She's nobody," the chef that brought me this morning's pans said. The girls often commented I was his favorite. He liked that I was quiet and got the job done. I knew he was trying to get me out of trouble. 



Nevertheless, I felt a heaviness in my heart. I was nobody.



Being nobody was safe. It was comforting. I was going to go back to work when he called me by my name. 



"You must be Rosie. Come here, I want to talk to you."



The air in the kitchen grew heavy. Had the devil chosen me as his sacrifice? I turned to face him and he must have taken the flush on my cheeks for arousal instead of embarrassment because he grinned.



I smelled him even before I saw his shiny black shoes. He smelled like cologne. They looked like they cost more than all the clothes I owned. 



"Look at me," he ordered. His tone was sharp, but refined. 



I lifted my chin slowly, gaze moving from his light blue shirt under the black suit, to his strong chin and perfectly kissable lips. His eyes were a beautiful sky-blue tint that reflected my white apron in blue. 



He cocked his head to the side, examining me. "Perhaps you'll do," he said. "Show me what you're hiding."