Page 37 of As Devils Love

But then I remembered the changing room in my boutique, and how he risked everything to spend a few more seconds trapped in that tiny cubicle with me. How he took the time to find a quote from my book that best suited our situation in my bedroom. My stalker wasn’t there to murder a man. He was there for me.

It makes my cheeks burn red hot.

My greeting of Matteo’s second in command is shorter, with less pomp and ceremony. Like Tomas, he’s just another body at the table. We’re here for the family heads to discuss their business, everyone else is a showpiece. But I quickly realize how foolish this thought is when my attention shifts to the final member of Matteo’s party. A beast is sitting at the end of the table, with one leg crossed over the other while he stares straight into my ever-widening eyes.

One glance is all it takes for me to know it’s him. I’d recognize his emerald eyes anywhere. They are a certain shade of green I could never forget. I modeled my entire outfit around them as a subtlescrew youto Tomas, after what he did to me last night. But if those eyes, boring a hole deep into my soul weren’tenough, his dirty blonde hair in a spiked matte mess atop his head is another clue.

My heart starts pounding in my chest as the realization dawns on me. This man isn’t just some vigilante slaughtering Napoli men for fun or sport, he’s under Matteo Baronne’s employ.

Unless, and I know this is the biggest wish I’ll ever make to be untrue, Matteo brought him here to hand him over. That Father and Matteo have decided to let bygones be bygones and it’s time to finally end the senseless brutality running rampant within the Napoli family.

But that delusion is quickly squashed, when Matteo’s confused face snaps from me to my stalker, and back again.

As if this isn’t a hard enough pill to swallow as is, Matteo finally speaks. “Handsome, isn’t he?”

I all but collapse into my chair, nodding haphazardly in response to Matteo. Even in this state of turbulence, I findhandsometo be the biggest understatement imaginable. My stalker is chiseled out of pure marble, with looks that could match the most beautiful of the ancient gods. His face is perfection incarnate, rivalled only by those piercing green eyes that have plagued both my fantasies and my nightmares.

What have I done? I’ve led Father’s biggest nightmare into our home, and I can’t even warn him about it. And the worst part is, I don’t even want to.

Whatever this snake-eyed monster has done to me, has twisted my mind into being his good little girl. He wants to kill me, he keeps saying it, and yet, I can’t stop myself from wanting to see things through with him.

Am I really so cock starved that I’ll risk everything to feel him inside me? Sadly, I fear the answer is yes. Because it’s not from lack of having sex, it’s because I want him.

“This is Crue Amos. A rather new addition to my family, but one who has quickly soared to great heights.” Matteo gives Crue a firm pat on the shoulder.

The monster cranes his neck to the hand, and a deep, dissatisfied rumble comes from his chest.

Crue Amos. Even his name rings magically inside my ears.

“Well, let’s not get too cozy. It may have come out that Fiametta is my daughter, but that doesn’t mean I want the world believing she’s part of my business.” Father steers the conversation away from me and Crue, and I can’t thank him enough.

I doubt I’d have been able to speak to him normally. To pretend he isn’t the man who has killed so many, and who now has his sights on me. Both metaphorically and literally, it seems. He hasn’t managed to look away from me since Matteo introduced us. I’m ashamed to admit that the same is happening to me.

He’s better looking than I pictured, and my imagination conjured something vastly superior to most men. But the longer I look at him, the more I wonder if I’m hooked on his face, or whether it’s the raw power he commands without having to say or do anything around this table. What I find is tripping me up, is that with a face like his, and sitting on top of his wet-dream physique, why would he hide away behind a mask?

His stunning good looks would make a perfect weapon in his arsenal. It’s as if he’s been genetically modified in some lab, to be absolutely appealing to the eye, in order to lure in his victims.

Deep breaths, Fiametta. This guy still wants to kill you.

“Lunch will be served at one. I’m not going to beat around the bush, Matte, I want business concluded before the meal,” Father says, easing back into his chair.

“Alright. Then tell us why you brought us here today.” Matteo shoves a hand into the front of his jacket and pulls it out, holding a fat cigar.

“There are killers on the loose.” He speaks almost as if he knows it’s Crue, Father’s eyes turn to my monster while he says it. “I have to assume it’s more than one since they’ve killed scores of my men. I’m hunting them and I believe I’m close, but I want to call a truce between our family’s until it’s over.”

“A truce? I didn’t know we were at war,” Matteo snips the end of his cigar and jams the end into his wide grinning mouth.

“We aren’t, but we both know that the best time to strike is when the enemy is wounded.” Father’s stern gaze returns to Matteo. “But where’s the fun in kicki—”

“Gotta take a piss,” Crue says suddenly, interrupting Father’s next thought. His vulgar, upfront announcement has Matteo chortling at his side. “Mind showing me the way to the restroom?”

Father stares at him with a blended look of annoyance and disgust. “Left hallway, all the way at the end. It’ll be on your right before the bedroom.”

Crue starts to shuffle out of his chair, but before he stands, Tomas looks at me and says, “Why don’t you grab us some drinks, girl?”

What the hell did he just say to me?

Good. Showing this level of disrespect in front of Father is bound to...

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