Page 16 of As Devils Love

“What?” My entire body coils so tightly, my muscles start to hurt.

“I fear that whoever is doing this knows our secret. They chose to send a message, with you there.” Father’s voice softens enough to let me know he still cares, but the fire in his eyes doesn’t dwindle.

Could it be? The man who swept me off my feet, is the very same man who has slaughtered so many Napoli soldiers.

“Why wasn’t it me?” A sudden fever hits my body and sweat forms on my brow. Just because it didn’t happen last night, doesn’t mean being added to his list isn’t on the cards.

“Nothing is ever clear cut. I can make assumptions, but there’s no point. To assume makes an ass out of you and me.” Father shrugs and gives me a glum look as if to sayyou’re going to hate what comes next.“Instead, I’m tightening security. For the foreseeable future, Tomas is going to be your personal bodyguard. Where you go, he goes.” Father turns away from me, no doubt to avoid the look of disgust that comes over my face.

“Why Tomas?” I blurt out and I scramble to add onto it before Father notices my disrespect. “It would be easier to remain anonymous, if it was someone else. Wouldn’t you prefer it that way?”

Father snaps his head back at me with flaring nostrils that match his enraged scowl.

Yup, he saw right through me.

“My decision is made, Fiametta. Keeping you hidden has been a waste of time. They found you anyway,” I can almost hear the regret on his voice, for the years of missed time we can never get back. “No more hiding. If they want to come for me, for my family, then I’ll meet their charge head on.”

“I—” as much as I want to fight, I won’t. The only thing it would change is how upset Father would get. “I understand.”

“I knew you would. And it’s only temporary. Once we’ve dealt with this threat, your life can go back to normal.” Father turns a shifty gaze in Tomas’s direction, and they nod at each other. “Asfor why I chose Tomas, I trust him with my life. As a result, I know I can trust him with yours.”

Tomas eases back in his chair, locking eyes with me. He rolls the cigarillo between his lips, and chuckles sheepishly.

“So, roomy, do I get the big room or the little one?”

Chapter Five

CRUE

Another day, another notch on my belt.

Groggy sounds emit from Rocco D’Angelo’s mouth as he begins to stir from his sleep. While he was under the effects of my chemical cocktail, I sat him down in a cheap plastic garden chair and tethered his arms and neck to the concrete floor below us with thick chains.

Rocco’s a big guy, and I’m not risking him breaking free.

He asks the usual slurred questions everyone in his position does as they wake:Who are you? Where am I? What is this place? You sick bastard, let me go. Do you know who you’re screwing with?

I don’t bother answering them anymore. They’ve lost all meaning. If he were a different man, perhaps I’d entertain them.Give him the satisfaction of knowing why I brought him into my kill chamber. But as he is one of Lorenzo Napoli’s decorated capos, I’m sure Rocco knows exactly why I’ve brought him down here. Any second now, reality will trickle through his confusion and our fun can begin. Unlike Fiametta, I injected my concoction into Rocco, rather than feeding it to him. I find the precision of dosing with a needle easier than crushing up pills and dropping them into a drink.

“You’re in luck,” I say, once his feeble mockery and attempt to reason this out passes.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He has the stern gaze of a stone-cold killer. “Nothing about this feels lucky.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna hate what I’ve got in store for you.”

Intimidation amid mindless chatter. I don’t often engage in it, but today is a special day. For the first time in months, I’m alone. “But, on the bright side, at least you won’t be found in a nightclub’s restroom with several men’s piss splashed across your face.”

Men like Rocco are the reason I’ve long moved on from interrogations. The world has become desensitized to the art of torture. Sure, the body may hurt, but the mind doesn’t crack quite as easily. Because deep down they know what I’m doing is nothing compared to what will happen when Lorenzo gets his hands on them. They’d rather die in agony, than face their boss’s wrath.

They’re a unique breed, these Napoli goons.

“I’ve had a lot of help dealing with your kind, of late. From my employer.” I pause for dramatic effect, and intrigue dances in his hazel eyes. He’s the first to know who the masked crusader is, and I bet that somewhere in that thick skull of his, he believes he’ll walk away from here to tell Lorenzo. “Matteo Baronne, of course.”

“That son of a bitch put you up to all this?” He scoffs as if we’re two old friends, shooting the shit together.

“Sure, he did. Made a very compelling argument as to why I should help him, too.”

“Money?” Rocco raises an eyebrow, shifting his neck around to test the rigidity of his metal collar. Don’t worry, big guy, you aren’t going anywhere.

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