Page 93 of Cruel Devil

Vito stands, wearing only his boxers, and gives me a lecherous smile. “You were good, but you weren’t that good. Only the best whores stay for breakfast.”

My cheeks flush so hot, it’s as if my skin’s going to peel off. My throat is too strangled for me to say anything, which is probably for the best, because God knows how Sergio would handle me talking back to his son.

No need to bother with my pants, so I focus on tightening my robe’s belt around my waist instead.

I turn and walk straight into Vito’s father. I bounce off with a gasp, nearly losing my footing.

Oh God, why is he standing so close? Why doesn’t he move?

I twist the belt around my trembling hands, mentally willing Sergio to step aside.

Vito’s cigarette smoke fills every breath I take.

“She’s uglier than your usual whores.”

“Cheaper, too,” Vito quips.

My cheeks are boiling, but it’s not just shame. There’s fury mixed in there too.

How fucking dare he?

But I’m not going to hang around here to defend myself. There’s a violent charge in the air, like the taste of tin before a lightning strike.

I glare at Sergio, and step around him.

His right hand latches on to the front of my throat. He stares down at me like he’s examining a bug he just squashed under his boot.

I almost black out in sheer panic at the feel of his fingers crushing my windpipe. But a tiny smidgeon of self-preservation kicks in. I step back with my left foot, spinning to knock his hand away with my right arm.

He seems surprised that his hand is no longer around my throat.

“You’re not one of his whores, are you?” Sergio muses.

I’m still grappling with the fact that this man dared lay his hands on me, and that his son doesn’t seem to give a damn. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that hierarchy is sometimes the only code criminals honor.

Guess it’s time to play the only card in my pathetic deck.

“I’m Viviana’s daughter,” I tell him, tilting my chin up to stare at him straight in the eyes, despite how my body quivers in panic. “If you touch me again, there will be hell to pay.”

Chapter 29

Savage

The sound of Bella shaking herself, collar rattling, ears and jowls flapping, is loud enough to pull me from sleep. She settles down on the blanket I laid down beside my bed, letting out a deeply affronted huff at the fact that she’s forced to lie on the uncomfortable floor and not at the foot of my bed.

I’ve let Bella sleep on the bed before, but I always wake up curled into a fetal position near the headboard while she spreads herself out diagonally across the mattress.

She shouldn’t even be in the house, but I’ve given her some allowances lately because of Sergio’s absence.

I turn to my other side, and frown at the shape beside me.

Christ. Nyx must have crept into this bed like a fucking thief in the literal night, because I didn’t wake up when she arrived. I’d say it’s because she didn’t want to get into a fight for getting here so late, but she loves to fight.

I drag her closer to me, curling my arm under my head and sliding the other over her waist. She lets out a grumpy moan at being disturbed, but doesn’t wake up.

There’s no point closing my eyes and trying to get back to sleep. I feel wide awake after the few hours I got before she came to bed.

Guess I was due some shut eye. Feels like I’ve been surviving on two or three hours a night for half a decade, if not more. I know it’s taking a toll, but my brain refuses to shut off.

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