Page 45 of As Devils Love

Tomas is already waiting, leaning his ass against the trunk while he rolls a cigarette between his fingers.

“I understand.” This isn’t how I expected Simone to react. Part of me believed she would be ecstatic and elated, the same way I feel. But that’s a silly thought, considering the circumstances.

Had Crue been anyone else, or had I told her we met somewhere completely different, I know she would’ve been jumping with joy for me. Maybe her reaction is a good thing. A wake-up call to how far I’ve fallen into insane depravity.

“Did you two have a good night?” Tomas asks as we reach the car, and my eyes instantly narrow in suspicion of the kindness he is using. What the hell am I thinking? It isn’t kindness, he’s merely being civil, but it’s so out of place for this monster, I can’t stop myself from searching for a hidden meaning.

“Yup, but glad it’s done.” Simone plays along, but she’s also approaching him with apprehension lacing her words.

“Great. At least you can get some rest now,” Tomas adds. “Ready to go, Fiametta?”

Who are you and what have you done with my father’s consigliere?

Unless it was Father to begin with. Having had enough of Tomas’s disrespect, Father could have put him in his place, and this is Tomas’s desperate attempt at making things right.

I nod my head and get into the backseat. Just because he’s playing nice, doesn’t mean I’m going to change my view of him. He’s still a bodyguard and chauffeur, above all else.

“Wanna stop for something to eat on the way to your place?” Tomas starts the engine.

“No, thank you. I’ve still got leftovers in the fridge.” I stare at him through the rearview mirror, trying to see if his façade will crack. It doesn’t, the whole drive home. He doesn’t speak much, either. Which is something I’ve never been against until this ride. I might be skeptical about him, but I’d rather hear his false niceties than have time to think about what Simone said about Crue.

Because she’s right. She hit the nail on the head without even trying.

I don’t want you falling in love with the wrong guy and getting hurt. Her words repeat in my head.

Well, I don’t think Crue’s going to hurt me. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would, after all he’s done so far. But Simone never said anything about being killed.

And that’s a threat Crue keeps making.

Chapter Eighteen

CRUE

Don’t. Do. This.

It seems I’ve found another way to silence my inner voice. If it isn’t killing, it’s drowning my cock. My restless mind has been mostly silent for the better part of this week. It has allowed me to work in silence, while I prepare for the worst of what’s to come.

Because the worst is on the horizon, it seems. Speaking out of turn to powerful men isn’t smart to begin with, but doing it straight to Lorenzo Napoli’s face, while he is getting his ass beaten by Matteo Baronne, has put me in a rather precarious position.

For the first time, since I started hunting Lorenzo’s daughter, I find myself constantly looking over my shoulder. I am waitingfor his hit squad to find me, pull a bag over my head, and pin my face in the mud, the same way they did to my mom. It’s only a matter of time until he puts the pieces together. By now, he’s probably done background checks on me. Used the name, which Matteo offered him so freely, to discover my deepest, darkest secrets.

This is pitiful. What are you even trying to accomplish?

I grin as my mind spins. It’s trying to reprimand me for doing what I’m doing. Not once was this voice bothersome while I pleasured myself with Fiametta’s mouth, nor has it belittled or berated me while I worked this week.

Now that I’ve found the two things that can keep this dark spot in the back of my head silent, it’s going to be a real mind fuck when I eventually do have sex with Fiametta.

How is it going to reason my stabbing her with my blade, when I could be doing it with my cock again and again until the end of time?

Insanity has never been so damned sweet.

“Oh my. You’re not the man I was expecting,” says the blonde behind the counter of the antique bookstore as I enter. She tilts her neck down, peering at me over the wide rim of her glasses, while sucking on her lower lip with devilish satisfaction.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I keep a stern expression on my face.

Not long ago, the blonde’s sultry tone andfuck meeyes would’ve been a wonderful invitation. She’s a perfect slab of fuckable meat. Big tits, round ass, plump lips, all ripe to service my cock. I’d play her game, pretend my interest extends beyond the lusty banter, and get her back to my place.

That’s where the real fun could begin. Ropes, whips and the other necessities I keep hidden under my bed for one-night stands. She’d walk in one woman and leave someone completely different. For better or worse, her life would be changed forever.

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