Page 47 of The Devil's Deal

“How’s your girl doing?” Dante asks. “I can’t believe she doesn’t remember you.”

Clenching my jaw, I pick up the decanter filled with whiskey and pour some into the glass beside it.

“Why would she?” I fire back, hating any talk of her. “I barely look anything like before.”

Like Enzo, I have green eyes. If she saw them, she’d know me instantly. That’s why I wear contacts. I can’t have her realize who I am yet. I need her scared, so she doesn’t run. If she does, she has no idea what she’ll be running into.

“I hope you’re making up for lost time,” Enzo says.

I grind my teeth. “You know that’s not what this is about.”

“It doesn't mean you can't have a little fun.” He wags his brows.

“Enough!” I bang my fist on the desk, causing the decanter to rattle.

They drop the conversation immediately, knowing me well.

I take a swig of my drink. “Be ready at three a.m. We hit the strip club, and we do what we did to the other places. Don’t forget your bulletproof vests. They’ll be expecting us.”

Enzo rubs his palms together and tilts forward, his elbows on his knees. “I can’t fucking wait.”

“Did Chiara do her part yet?” Dante asks, leaning back, cracking his knuckles.

A smile forms at the edge of my lips. “She will.”

The plan for the club has been carefully constructed like everything else, and she’s part of the key.

* * *

I arrive back home in time to feed her lunch, as promised. Balancing a tray on one hand, I unlock the door with the other.

As soon as she sees me walk in, Chiara sits up on the bed, her legs crossed at the ankles. She’s still in the same clothes I saw her in during the livestream on my phone. But the view up close is so much better. Hardly anything is left for my imagination, except her ass parked on the bed, which I bet looks even better without those shorts on.

“Finally,” she huffs out, irritation simmering in her glare. “I’ve been starving. You didn’t even leave me water, you asshole!”

Shit. She’s right. I am an asshole.

If I were a better man, I’d apologize. But I’m not.

I pick up the breakfast tray, putting it on the floor, and place the new one on the nightstand.

“Drink.” I hand her a water bottle.

She opens it quickly and guzzles the entire thing. “Make sure you leave enough before you go. Maybe you’d like to get me a bowl too, so I can get on my hands and knees and drink like a dog, since that’s how you treat me.”

Her on her hands and knees...

I suck in a breath. There are so many things I could do to that curvy body.

I crack my neck, needing to curb the thought of grabbing her by that delicate throat and pinning her against the wall while I fuck her mercilessly.

“I’ll make sure you have water from now on. Anything else you’d like? Maybe some steak and lobster?”

She swings her feet off the bed and comes around to my side, swaying her hips until her tight little body is pressed against mine.

“How about fuck you?” she bites out as her gaze finds mine, her finger digging into the center of my chest.

I love a woman who fights back. And this right here would have any other woman tied to my bed and fucked so hard she’d remember who’s in charge.

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