Page 70 of The Devil's Secret

One can trace the danger on his handsome face, like a path leading to destruction.

“Okay, yeah,” she says, swallowing hard. “Whatever you want.”

“We’re gonna go now,” he tells them, removing his cell from his pocket and typing something quickly before he places it back. “There’s more than enough money on that table for the both of you.”

He drags the chairs out, the men still on them, both slowly getting up, their bodies shifting uncomfortably on their feet.

Enzo leads them out, stepping up behind them, one hand clasped to mine and his other in his jacket pocket. “One wrong move, I’ll shoot you both dead. I don’t give a shit what happens to me because I’ll gladly kill you for what you did to her.”

Enzo smiles flirtatiously as two women at the table we pass glance suspiciously at us.

“Listen, it was all a misunderstanding,” one of them says. “We didn’t know—”

“Didn’t know you were raping me? Holding me down while he shoved that baton in me while I begged for you all to stop?” I whisper-shout as we march out the doors and back onto the street. Enzo’s car parked right across from the restaurant.

They’re both facing me, sandwiched between us and the car, their expressions void of any redeeming emotions. Not that it’d change anything. They’re monsters of the worst kind.

Enzo’s breath is hot and heavy at the back of my neck, his arm curling around my front as his lips fall to my temple. “I’m going to make them suffer, baby. They’re going to bleed,” he says against my ear. “For you.”

Inhales storm into my lungs, my heart pounding so fast, I can’t tame it, wanting them to feel an ounce of what they did to me.

Enzo lets go, opening the door to the back seat and shoving one of the men. “Get the fuck inside.”

They both reluctantly enter, and Enzo locks the doors with a click, before grabbing zip ties from the glove compartment and tying their hands together over their knees. “I’m gonna show you what I do to those who hurt my girl.” He slams the door hard, then helps me into my seat and gets into his.

With a turn of his key, we’re driving off.

“What the hell do you want from us?” one of them asks. “Money? Info? What? How can we fix this?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Enzo finds him through the rearview mirror. “There’s nothing you can do. Nothing you can say. You’re both gonna die tonight and no one will find your bodies.”

* * *

We arrive back at Enzo’s, a pale blue McLaren Speedtail already parked in the driveway, a man I recognize from the strip club casually leaning against it.

“That’s one of my brothers,” Enzo explains as we get out, strutting over to him. They clasp hands before his brother raises a chin in greeting.

“Nice to officially meet you. I’m Dante.”

“You too.” I reach out a hand for his with a smile matching his crooked one.

“So, what do we have here?” He eyes Enzo’s SUV, some of the guards already moving to stand around the car. Enzo must’ve texted Dante from the restaurant.

“The usual shit.” He shrugs. “No dicks have been cut off this time though. Not yet.”

Dante chuckles. “Your boy has some screws loose,” he says to me.

“Yeah,” Enzo scoffs, “says the guy who cut out that one dude’s eyes.”

“True.” Dante’s lips deepen with a smirk. “We’ve all got a little bit of crazy in us.”

I narrow a gaze. “I’m not sure if I should be afraid or—”

“Nah, you just gotta embrace the crazy.” Enzo drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his side with a kiss to the top of my head. “We’re more lovable that way.”

“I’m going to take your word for it,” I toss with amusement before my expression turns serious.

“Does he know?” I ask Enzo, looking between them. I know he understands what I’m talking about.

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