Page 7 of Diavolo

Break his legs, Mikey. First the left one. Then the right. Make him scream so he'll remember not to fuck us over again.

Elyse willed her expression to remain unmoved. Stefano had always been the brains behind the operation. Mikey was his muscle.

But he can keep his hands. The bastard will need them to play.

Unreadable.

If you can't pay up after the tournament, Romero, we'll kill your daughter.

Emotionless.

After we take turns popping her tight, little cherry.

Fortunately, Elyse's father managed to fork over enough cash to keep their dicks at bay. After finishing high school in three years instead of four, she went to college, andPapábegged her to stay away. He protected her by dealing with Stefano and Mikey on his own. For a while, life in her twenties was okay. Elyse kept her head down, studied hard, and received her undergraduate degree early as well. She was accepted to med school.

Stefano and Mikey didn't forget about her, though, and shoved themselves back into her orbit about a year ago.

At thirty-two, Elyse might not be immune to Mikey's fists, but she was safe from his cock. She'd long aged out of Stefano and Mikey's preferences. The bar was in hell, but bruises seemed better than the alternative. They liked their victims virginal and young.Too young. In a way, she'd been fortunate to escape their clutches. Not everyone was so lucky.

Filth like Stefano and Mikey deserved to burn in hell. Maybe, someday, she'd get the chance to send them there. A bitch coulddream. Until then, Elyse had to focus on saving herself first. The evil that simmered in Stefano and Mikey was always one trigger-happy pull away from being unleashed. If she fucked up their agreement, there was no doubt that Stefano would order Mikey to kill her.

The man eyed her expectantly.

She gave him nothing, muttering, "Get some rest. I'll be back soon."

Then, Elyse hurried out the door without a backward glance.

3

"I am filthy."

Elyse ignored the man and went on to answer a few more emails from work.

"I stink of sweat and blood."

She maintained the quintessential poker face.

"A shower would be heavenly."

On and on, he bitched and moaned for ten more minutes. The man could shatter the patience of a saint. Finally, Elyse caved to his incessant complaints. She responded with a tick in her jaw, "Go shower then. No one's stopping you. You know where the bathroom is located."

He grunted as thoughshewas the unreasonable one. "But I require assistance."

Today was day two of her patient's journey to recovery. For the most part, all was well. The meds were in his system. Elyse was no longer as concerned about infections. He seemed to be experiencing much less pain and discomfort as well. He was certainly very energetic for a person who just survived a near-death experience.

Stefano had stopped by in the morning to drop off some clean clothes for the man. Her handler was pleased with the man's recovery. Elyse felt relieved. God willing, she'd live to see her next birthday. There was only one small hiccup in this otherwise ideal situation. Her patient's demands were beginning to drive herloca.Crazy.Never had Elyse been charged with such apinchefresa.Fucking spoiled brat.

She shot him a pointed look. "I already told you many times. Keep your wound dry for forty-eight hours so it can heal properly. No showering or bathing until then."

Elyse tried to concentrate on the tasks awaiting her on the laptop, but the weight of his gaze kept boring into the side of her skull. It felt very intrusive. With a sigh, she promised him, "Tomorrow. You can shower tomorrow."

Silently but stubbornly his wide-eyed gaze continued to beseech her like a sad, needy puppy. Elyse snapped her laptop shut. "Fine. You win."

He didn't reply, but a maddening smirk appeared on his handsome face.

Elyse rose from her kitchen table and disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. She returned with a large bowl of warm water in one hand and a towel in the other. He glanced at her offerings as though they were drenched in acid. "What have you brought me?"

Her demeanor was very matter-of-fact. "A sponge bath."

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