Page 43 of As Devils Love

I turn the device off as she glares at me with narrow eyes and places the tray on the table. It was just a nudging reminder that I’m still in control.

“I can appreciate your concerns, Matteo,” Lorenzo says, ignoring Fiametta’s apologies and continuing the conversation they were having while we waited for her. “But I’m afraidsharingthat section of the city is not something I can do.”

Matteo chuckles sardonically and shakes his head. “You misunderstand me. I have no intention of sharing.” He’s the first to lean over and pour himself a drink since no one else will. Matteo is ruthless and he’s letting it shine bright at this table. “You asked me here to negotiate a solution toyourproblem, and here I am, negotiating.”

“You talk a pretty big game when you don’t know if this killer, or organization, or whatever the hell it is, plans on putting you in their crosshairs.” Lorenzo’s so angry I can almost see the cartoony plumes of steam rushing out of his nose.

“He might, but something tells me that if he hasn’t already, it’s not going to happen,” Matteo’s eyes shift between Lorenzo and Tomas.

Don’t count your chickens, pal. Keep pissing me off and all bets are off.

I turn my attention back to my phone and start fidgeting with the various controls. Some have letters, others have numbers, but none of them give me an actual indication of what I’m doing.

The only icon that’s clear is the big circle in the center. It’s the on and off switch, and if I roll my finger over it, the speed changes. I glance at Fiametta and watch how she’s trying to force the sensations building inside her to stop. She’s gnawing on the inside of her cheek, breathing in slowly to find her inner peace.

Not gonna happen.

“Negotiations are a give and take thing. There has to be something else you want, so why don’t we skip the barteringand jump straight to the point.” Lorenzo’s arrogance knows no bounds. Every time he opens his mouth, fury grips my heart. Just because I’m having fun with his daughter, doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what he has done to me. And although I hate giving Matteo credit for anything, he was right about this meeting putting me back onto my task.

However, I find the longer I sit in their company, the less interested I am in killing Fiametta. I’d rather focus my attention entirely on her piece of shit father, and his dog, Tomas. They’re the ones who deserve it.

“I’m offering you an opportunity to stop the violence before it begins. All it’s going to take is your loosening upsomeof your control over the East End.” Matteo clears his throat and pours two fingers of whiskey into a tumbler. He hands it to his second in charge, who’s name I still don’t know, before pouring another for himself.

“Some?” Lorenzo puts a finger under his chin and his voice softens.

“Yes, of course, not the entire district. That would be cruel,” Matteo answers.

My eyes return to Fiametta, who is now showing more visible signs of her distress. Her eyes are closed shut, and she’s clinging onto the tablecloth as though her life depends on it. I wish I could see inside her mind. See how my torment is tearing her up, and how the thrill of it is pushing her to the brink of climax around these stuffy old bastards.

“Girl,” Tomas’s voice cuts through the tension the two don’s conversation brought. He leans behind Lorenzo and pats Fiametta on the shoulder, before saying. “Stop twiddling your thumbs and pour our drinks.”

An unnerving fury brews in me as soon as he opens his mouth. I have to physically restrain myself from smashing Tomas’s face in with the carafe that is sitting a few inches away. It would beso satisfying, too. Watching him squirm in fear, the same way he made Fiametta feel last night.

I wouldn’t kill him first. I’d take his tongue first for the utter disrespect. His fingers would be next, as a reminder not to lay a hand on what doesn’t belong to him. Finally, his eyes... not that there’s any real moral justification behind that. I could lie and say it’s because he looked at Fiametta, but I’d have to blind the whole damn planet if I wanted that one to be true. No, his eyes would be just for me. Merely for the thrill of watching a grown man scream.

And then there’s Lorenzo. Beyond his being a piece of shit, I’m starting to believe he’s a coward. Not only is he Fiametta’s dad, but he’s also a man, and he still can’t muster the backbone to stand up to the piece of shit who’s supposed to be second in command of this operation.

There’s something else at play here, that much is clear.

I direct my attention back to my cell phone, to avoid an unnecessary outburst. Toying with Fiametta is more fun, and it has a much higher chance of keeping me alive.

I adjust the big circle in the middle of the screen, and Fiametta utters the first sound that’s related to the toy. It isn’t a moan or a whimper, but a clumsywhoopsie, as her rattling hand messes whiskey over the tray.

“What are you doing?” Lorenzo roars, and my lazy gaze travels to him. “Christ, Fiametta, what’s gotten into you?” Before he can continue berating his daughter, Lorenzo’s attention snaps to me. “And you… are we boring you?”

“Excuse me?” I keep my voice low and calm, but never break my gaze.

“You heard me.” Lorenzo’s seething. He can’t keep his emotions in check. I suppose it’s difficult, when you’re being whipped by your biggest competition.

“You’d be wise to watch your tone, big man. Your title might scare everyone in this room. Hell, it might scare everyone in New York City, but it doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

I flick the button to switch the device off, as I pocket my phone and replace it with the folded dagger, I keep tucked next to it. I hadn’t planned on using it, but you can never be too careful walking into a den of vipers.

Getting into a fight here will surely mean certain death. For everyone at this table. But I won’t go down without a fight, that’s for damned sure.

“Christ, man, have you lost your mind?” Matteo hisses into my ear.

“I think it’s time I go.”

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