Page 44 of The Devil's Pawn

“That’s what has your balls twisted?” He lets out an exaggerated laugh. “So what? She didn’t do shit to us, man. She may be one of them by blood, but she’s not her father. She didn’t hurt our family.”

“Being with her is a betrayal to our family name. To everything we stand for.”

“Says who? That’s you talking. Not any one of us.” He clasps my shoulder. “Listen, bro. I know you and Dom never listen to me—I’m the kid brother and shit—but I’ll tell you one thing. Life is too damn short to get hung up on names. If you like her and if she likes you, then it’s worth it.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Once she finds out who we are—who I am—it’ll be over.”

“Or, maybe it won’t.” He smirks. “Maybe there’s a chance that she’ll eventually forgive your corny ass.”

“Wait a damn minute.” I pull back, giving him a hard stare. “Areyougiving me advice on relationships? The brother who swears he’ll never give a girl a ring?”

“So?” He shrugs a shoulder. “That doesn’t mean I don’t believe in it. I just don’t believe in it for me. You’re different. You always were.”

“Okay, Dr. Oz,” I half tease, not wanting to admit he could be right or let his words sit in my head too long.

Raquel and I can’t be anything but two people sworn into a life we didn’t create. It was handed to us by her father and her uncles, and that’s all we will be.

“Don’t you mean Dr. Phil?” Enzo asks.

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” I chuckle as I grab him in a chokehold, my knuckles roughly rubbing the top of his head. “Look at you, being all grown up.”

“What the hell, man?!” He fights me off with a laugh, the heaviness of the conversation long behind us. “Don’t mess up my hair. I’m taking Tatiana back to my place.”

And he’s back.

* * *

RAQUEL

I wake to an empty bed, the space beside me cool to the touch. My stomach drops more than it should.

Did he ever come home from his business meeting?

I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand, noticing it’s seven in the morning.

Why should I care if he stayed out all night with his tongue down some woman’s throat? But my gut boils over with an insane amount of jealousy at the images of him doing what he’s done to me to someone else.

I pull in a long, frayed inhale.

We’re nothing. He doesn’t owe me an explanation.

Three months. That’s all this is. A fake marriage. No attachments.

That’s what I told myself from the start.

So why am I having such a problem now?

No big deal. He’s just a guy I hooked up with. That’s all.

You like him. He does crazy things to your pulse and even crazier things to your body. Don’t deny it.

I huff out a defeated sigh, scolding my own thoughts as I flip my legs out of bed. Prodding across the floor to run into the bathroom, I quickly brush my teeth before jumping in the shower. Once I’m dressed, I head for the door, intending to get some breakfast.

But as soon as I open it, he’s there. Well, more like his bare chest is.

“Dante? Where have you been?” I try to avoid staring at his chiseled muscles and those thick slopes of his arms.

His jaw tics as his eyes land on my tight, green tank top. My breaths intensify every time he looks at me so hungrily, so depravedly.

---