Page 109 of The Devil's Pawn

Both his arms are around me now, wrapping me snugly. “Shh. Don’t cry. I love you, Raquel.”

I pull back. “I love you too. So don’t leave me, okay?”

“Not if I can help it.” His palm fits over my cheek. “The devil himself would have to drag me away from you before I would ever go willingly.” He drops his lips to my forehead, pulling in a harsh breath. “But I have to finish this if we ever want a life together.”

“I know.” My brows furrow with both understanding and anguish.

None of us should ever know this much pain. We didn’t ask for it. My family shoved it down our throats, and until we rip it out, we’ll never know peace.

With a final look into my eyes, he mouthsI love youbefore running off into the fight. Something he’s been doing his entire life.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

DANTE

At the firstsign of death, Agnelo ran. He’s too afraid of what we’ll do to him, and he should be. His death will be slow, unlike that of his brother, who’s currently lying on the concrete, too dead to tell us what we need to know. But we have a few of their men still alive, tied up on the chairs.

Enzo and I are too overcome with rage to let them die humanely. With Chiara in the hospital and our women being caught in the midst of danger, we’re going to make this as brutal as possible.

“If my brother Dom were here, it’d be a lot worse for you,” I tell a nameless man who’s bleeding from the top of his cheek, the thick gash seeping crimson thanks to my blade.

I clutch the blue handle of my knife, pacing around him slowly. The tip of the weapon edges to the side of his throat, licking upward.

“Tell me where they keep the kids, and Imightconsider being a little nicer.” I push the blade in deeper and pierce through the skin, making drops of blood drip down his neck. “Not that nice, but still a lot better than torching your body while you’re still breathing. I’d tell you to ask some of your friends how much fun that was, but…”

I glide the knife down slowly, curving the angle of the blade around his Adam’s apple.

“Listen…” He coughs harshly before catching his breath. “I have no fucking clue about no kids. I swear it.”

I blow out an exaggerated breath, pacing over to Enzo, who has another man on a chair in front of him.

“I’m really disappointed, Ricky. I had high hopes for you.”

“My name isn’t Ricky.”

“Well, today, it is.” I glare, my eyes seeped in violent vengeance.

He shuts his mouth quickly.

Enzo hands me a torch while I place the blade down, picking up the red gasoline canister from behind him, where another two are waiting for us. Holding the container in my hand, I tread back to Ricky, placing it between his stretched legs.

“I have no patience, so you either tell me something valuable, or I burn you alive.” I switch the torch on as he pants, his eyes glued to the blaze of the flame: calm, yet dangerous.

“Please, man, I don’t kn—ahhh!” He screams as the fire incinerates through his shoulder, making the air reek in burning flesh.

I’m almost immune to it, that stench I can only describe as burning leather with a pinch of garlic. Sweet. Sickening. The unpleasant smell took a little time to get used to. It’s funny what a human mind can embrace when not given a chance to know otherwise.

“I know you know,” I warn as the torch lowers to his bicep, almost searing him there too. “Speak.”

“They…” he cries. “They told me nothing.”

“That’s too bad.” I lower the spark back to his body and let the fire tearing through his muscle speak for me.

His wailing and groaning only irritates me. I lift the canister and twist the cap off.

“Mmm, smell that?” I ask, inhaling the odor of gasoline. “I hope you love it.”

Then I flip the can and let the liquid pour down his body as my men move back.

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