Page 13 of Sinister Devotion

He holds a hand up to stop me from talking, circling a finger in the air as if the walls are listening. I sigh and shake my head. "Not in here, Zio. I swear."

He huffs out a breath, emphasizing the fullness of the white handlebar mustache that gives him every bit the look of the villain he plays in real life. The weight he carries around his midsection makes an easy resting place for his massive hands, but it's a poor way to hide how dangerous he truly is.

"The woman you use to pick up and deliver contracts. She's bad for business. She thinks it's cool to bad mouth her boss around people she feels are the same as her. She has no respect, this Douglas woman." His voice is low.

"She's the best corporate financial manager around."

"That's your fucking problem, Julian. She's corporate. She's not family. If she doesn't learn to keep her fat fucking mouth shut, someone's going to shut it for her. What's the point in having shell companies that buy shell companies to buy a shell company when that bitch blabs that her boss is losing money and they should be goddamn happy he, meaning you, are flinging money their way."

I run a hand over my face. "I didn't know it was that bad."

"It's not that bad, yet. For now, it looks like she's doing work for me to go against Carmine and his people. I don't have a problem with that because I despise that greasy fuck as much as the next guy, but you? You're going to have a problem if someone decides to follow her one day. She's liable to get her throat slit. Tell her to keep this family's name out of her head and to just do her fucking job. Capiche?"

I nod in agreement.

Armande pushes himself out of his chair, rounding the desk to stand in front of me. I'm a few inches taller than him at 6'2, but still, he reaches around to the back of my head and pulls me in for a hug. He kisses me on the forehead like I'm still his 6-year-old nephew who fell off his bike and scraped his knee.

"And to correct you, sweet Julian. You are not just the man this world needs you to be. You are the man I have raised you to be. Not your weasel of a father, and you know how much I love my sister, but not your conniving mother. Me. You are dangerous because of me. Do not let my love for you cloud your judgment. I will protect this family, even from you."

"You don't have to worry about me, Armande. I'll straighten things out. Are you and Ma coming to the party?"

He chuckles. "The, uh, birthday party, for your lady friend?"

"Yes, but there will be opportunities there for the both of us. I'm making sure of it."

"I'll send your mother, and if things aren't too hot for me, I'll make a public appearance. No one wants the mob at their birthday party, Julian. But for you, I will make an exception." He nods, pats me on the back, and walks out of the office.

I peek at Claire's desk to see my mother sitting there nosing through Claire's laptop. I walk over and gently close the lid.

"That's not for you, Ma," I tell her.

She twists in the chair, folding her arms across her chest. "This is how you treat me? I'm here to see you and I have to spend time all alone with nothing to do. When I decide to do some shopping for the brat?—"

"Don't speak about Claire like that. She's not a brat and she's far from spoiled."

"You spoil her with your attention, Julian, and it shows. She had the audacity to talk back to me." She huffs.

"What do you mean talk back to you? What are you talking about? What did you say to her?" I fire off one question after another as I begin to understand the text Claire sent me a while ago.

My mother shrugs as she pushes herself away from the desk. "I told her that it's time to grow up and make her own way in this world. She gave me attitude, like Derek never used you and your father's connections?—"

"What the fuck did you say about Derek to her?" Anger like nothing I've ever felt rages through me. The need to protect Claire has always been my priority, but I've never wanted to protect her more than right now.

The stinging behind my eyes forces me to hold back tears, because only I know what Derek did for my family. It's the reason that the least I can do for him is watch after his child until she's the beautiful woman she's destined to be. It's why guilt consumes me every time I lust after Claire. She deserves better than me.

My uncle steps in front of me, putting himself between me and Ma so he can get me to calm down.

"Julian. Respect. Bianca, let's go," he reminds me because every Marzano man understands Marzano women are to be respected. Even when you want to put their face through a wall. Mother or not, I don't like the way she treats people.

"Armande," she whines. "I was just pointing out that his friends have been using him since he was a little kid. They never deserved access to his money or the power you and his father gave them access to. We've been raising Julian as a successor to his father and he needs to get back into the political arena. That little blonde twig is going to ruin his chances at the polls. All the voters are going to see is an older man fucking his secretary on the way to the Governor's mansion."

"Bianca, shut up because you have no idea what you're talking about," Armande growls. "Let's go."

"You're lucky you're my mother. Please leave before I say something I regret," I tell her before heading back into my office.

My parents have been working for years to remove themselves from Armande's reputation as a ruthless gangster. To distance themselves from the Marzano family name and elevate the Blackwell moniker to political royalty. My father killed my mother's dream early on in his career as a judge. The fix to that is to put me in office. I'm not interested, but that never matters to her. What I want never matters.

I don't wait for her to leave before I pull out my phone to call Claire. The line goes straight to voicemail, but when I get a call from Bonnie later in the afternoon, I know I need to go to her.

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