Page 74 of The Devil's Secret

Clutching Graham by the back of his neck, I yank hard, until his glazed, red-streaked eyes meet mine. The edge of the blade lands on the side of his neck and I cut right across with a long, drawn-out slash.

Blood. It flows. An unbending river.

The other bastard is next. “I only wish I found you sooner,” I say before I slice straight through his carotid.

His eyes widen with a horrified expression, but it’s a useless effort. He’ll be dead in minutes. They both will be.

Joelle comes to stand beside me. Her hand finds mine in the carnage I’ve created, and together, we watch the men inhale their very last breaths.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

JOELLE

I never knewa man to be gentle, not unless he was interested in that kind of thing when he purchased me for an hour, sometimes two, depending on how big his wallet and stamina was. But Enzo, he’s the most gentle and loving.

A few weeks have drifted by since he’s killed those men, and since then, he’s treated me with even more care. It’s like he’s trying to make up for all the wrongs in my life. Like he can erase them somehow. And though he can’t, though no one can give me back those years, it’s a relief to know I’m finally safe, that I finally have someone who wants to protect me.

But our time together in these past weeks haven’t all been enjoyable. Enzo and his brothers still can’t find Robby, though they have done nothing but try.

The hollow ache in my chest grows bigger with every passing day, fearing I’ll never get my boy back alive, that they’ll tell me they found his remains instead. I wake up in the middle of the night from nightmares, Enzo’s arms lulling me back to sleep.

He’s kept me in the loop about everything, wanting me to know that he won’t keep secrets between us.

When I found out Chiara was taken only two days after Enzo killed Graham and Jay, I couldn’t believe her own father could be so cruel to his own child. But, then again, knowing what I know about him and his family, I’m not surprised either. They got her back though, safe from his grasp. And knowing Faro is dead, gives me a sense of peace.

Not only was Chiara taken, but shortly after, her cousin, Raquel, was too. Of course, her father, Salvatore, was involved. He’s dead like his brother, along with Carlito, that sadistic man she was supposed to marry.

I heard about Raquel when Carlito talked about her at the club. I didn’t know she was Chiara’s cousin until Enzo told me.

She’s with Dante now, but none of us will ever be truly free until the Bianchi men are all gone. I can’t wait until that day comes.

I’ve briefly met both of Enzo’s brothers, along with Raquel once in the past week, and I was finally able to see for myself that Chiara was safe.

With everything going on with her family, she’s really worried about her other cousin, Aida. Neither Raquel nor Chiara grew up close with her, thanks to her father, Agnelo. But they love her and want her to be safe. They don’t even have a cell number to check on her. As far as they know, Aida doesn’t own a phone. When they’ve tried to call the house, no one answered. But no one usually does, Chiara told me.

She’s concerned Aida’s father did something to her. If I know anything about Agnelo, I know what he’s capable of. If I were his daughter, I’d run the hell away the first chance I got.

Chiara is itching to head to the house and find Aida herself, but Dom doesn’t want her in danger, and who knows what she could be walking into. I can’t say I blame him.

I stand under the spray of the warm water, hands in my hair, washing away the shampoo, unable to wait until I’m done so I can curl up next to Enzo for the night.

The bathroom door squeaks, cool air whisking past my body, my skin pricking. I see him then, his thick, brawny thighs strutting toward me, visible even through the steam masking my full view of him through the glass door.

He moves to where I am, closer now, his hand on the door as he slides it open. I squint a playful gaze as he walks in beside me, a smirk on his face as he twists the knob to the double shower next to mine, and the water comes alive.

“Didn’t you already take one like an hour ago?” I ask, as I pick up a sponge and lather it up with some bodywash.

“Did I?” The corner of his sinful mouth curves into a sly grin as he stands under the water, eyes shut, his ripped abs flexing as he works his hands through his hair. The veins in the corded muscles of his biceps swell as though trying to rip right through his skin.

My body turns molten as my gaze falls to his cock, thick and so damn hard. My hands itch to touch him, to feel him inside me. He hasn’t been shy about showing how badly he wants me.

And he wants meallthe time. Fast or slow, he knows my body well, bringing out every ounce of pleasure I’ve lacked.

His head straightens, his heavily hooded gaze trapping me in its tantalizing allure, those sea-green eyes caressing a path down my body, from my lips to the apex of my thighs.

He grabs a bar of soap, rolling it down his chest without looking away, lower, to the pack of solid muscles on his stomach, to the thickening of his cock, stiffening the more I stare.

My nipples turn taut as he places the soap back, his hand falling to his hard-on as he strokes himself. A steady ache builds in my core, my pussy clenching, needing him to take away that pain. My hands fall over my breasts, squeezing them together as he groans, stroking himself harder, the hallows beneath his cheekbones deepening.

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