Page 8 of DeLuca: The Devil

DOMENIC

I’m in my office going through the liquor numbers when my brother, Damian, comes in. He’s my second, and we think the same. We aren’t twins, but we could be. Our thoughts are connected. How I would deal with a problem is the same way he would. That’s the biggest reason I trust him to act on my behalf if I’m too busy to handle things. The biggest difference between us is his need to save helpless women. It’s how he ended up with the nickname he hates, The Saint. I glance up from the paperwork, “Fuck. We’ll have to find another distributor after I kill this one.”

He chuckles, “Why are you killing this one?”

I toss the paper I’ve been going over to him across my desk, “He’s padding the numbers. He’s charging us for double the amount supplied.”

Damian rubs the scruff on his face as he shakes his head, “Stupid fucker.”

Occasionally, someone tries to steal from me, but it doesn’t happen often. Most people are smart enough to know better than to steal from the De Luca family. But it does happen. People get desperate when they have financial problems and do stupid shit like this. Did he really think I wouldn’t check the numbers?

I glance at my monitor sitting on the left side of my desk and watch the bar on my security feed when I spot her. Giada is in my club again. She has another woman with her this time. They’re drinking and laughing. I zoom in on her as she licks her lips before taking another sip through her straw. I can’t help but think of her lips wrapped around my dick instead. Most women fall to my feet, begging me to fuck them. But not this girl. She’s promised to fucking Enzo Bianchi. The Bianchi men are the worst of the worst. Torturing women is a relaxing Sunday for them. The only man I can imagine willingly selling his daughter off to a Bianchi is Anthony Baretti. Clearly, his daughter doesn’t mean a fucking thing to him other than money and power. If she did, there’s no way he’d sell her. My siblings are all men except for my baby sister, Dalia. I wouldn’t sell her to anyone, but a Bianchi would be the last man I’d ever allow to touch her.

Damian takes a seat across from me, “Something going on down there?”

Without looking away from my monitor, I shrug, “Giada Baretti is here again.”

“Doing more of daddy’s work?”

I glance at him quickly before focusing my attention back on my computer screen, “I don’t know. It looks like she’s just here having fun.”

“Brother don’t forget she’s the enemy. I know she’s hot, but she’s dangerous. Don’t let pussy make you lose sight of the danger lurking. Anthony Baretti wants to take us out.”

I glare at him, “I have not lost sight of anything. I’m aware of that fuckers’ intentions.”

He chuckles, “And yet you are fighting with yourself over whether or not you should go down there and get your paws on her again.”

My brother is right, and I know he is. I know I should stay far away from her, but I can’t. I’ve never wanted to fuck a woman more than I do her. I'll kill her after I get my fill, but not before then.

“Relax. She’s a dead woman. After I fuck her, I’ll end her and send her head to Baretti.”

He chills out and cracks his neck, releasing the stress from his body, “There’s the savage devil I know.”

I imagine how stunning she’ll look with blood dripping down her beautiful skin. I’ll be the one watching the light fade from her eyes. What a fucking gift. I wonder if she’ll die as beautifully as she lives.

I tap my fingers on my desk, “You are right about one thing, though.”

He arches an eyebrow waiting for me to explain.

“I am going down there. Get the liquor distributor in here.”

Damian chuckles, “Of course you are.”

Without another word, I rise from my chair, head out the door and down the stairs to find Giada. It’s nearly time to take her. I know exactly when it will happen. There are few things I do that aren’t calculated. She will be no different. I find her on the dance floor with her friend, seductively moving those sexy hips, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her against me and lower my head, whispering in her ear, “You should not be here, Bellissima. Tempting the devil with that delicious little body, made for sin.”

Her scent is intoxication, innocence, and sex, all rolled into one. I run my tongue from her collarbone up to her ear, ignoring her friend gaping at us. I spin her around so she’s facing me and take in her wide eyes, as she trembles in my hands, “Did you not have enough, Bellissima? You came back for more?”

Her eyes travel up my chest, taking in every inch, slowly, before her gaze settles on my face, “No.” She stammers, “I mean n-no, not here for m-ooo-re. I am with my f-rrriend.”

I can’t help but smirk at her nervousness. I’m used to making people feel unsettled. Normally, it doesn’t faze me but for some reason I’m enjoying this. Perhaps a little too much.

I run my hand into her hair and pull, forcing her head back, “Oh sweet, Giada Baretti. What would Bianchi say if I told him, you were in my club again? What if I told him I had tasted those pretty lips? That mouthwatering tongue?”

Her eyes well with unshed tears, “Please don’t. He will kill me.”

I grin at her as I shake my head, “What makes you think I won’t kill you?”

Shrugging her shoulders, she says, “Even the devil would do it with more compassion than he would.”

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