Page 49 of As Devils Love

“And it still haunts me to this day.” He smacks a firm palm against my back. “You’re gonna go see her, and that’s okay. I just wish you wouldn’t lie to me about it.” More sarcasm and mockery.

Maybe inviting him here was a mistake. I wouldn’t feel this silly had I not.

“Whatever, I’ll see you soon,” I say, once we’ve disembarked the elevator and exited into the chilly New York night.

“Have fun,Big Bad.” He gets in his car and starts to drive away. I watch his car until his headlights vanish in the distance, before I cross the street. I head into the alleyway, keeping an eye out for any Napoli men who might be on patrol, before I start my ascent up the fire escape’s metal stairs. A few minutes later, I’m outside Fiametta’s room.

I test the window, expecting it to be open after my last uninvited visit. But given Tomas’s treatment of her that night, I suppose she has good reason to lock herself in.

Merely thinking his name makes my blood boil over and my mouth curl into a snarl like I’m some kind of rabid animal. I’ve had ample opportunity to slit his throat, and I should’ve done it already. The only thing stopping me is the fact that he is in Fiametta’s apartment. Being drunk all the time makes him an easy target, but if I killed Lorenzo’s second in command in her home, he’d move her away to some secure facility to keep her out of my reach.

I grab my leather toolkit from my pocket and rummage through it for the best tool for the job. A long, thin piece of metal with a hooked end and a handle. It slides through the narrow gap in the window with ease, and it’s only a matter of time until I knock the bolt loose.

I’ve been in this room a few times, but tonight is reminiscent of my first time inside Fiametta’s home. It’s not about beingnervous, at least I don’t think it is. But the start of a hunt brings with it a certain blend of uneasy excitement.

I feel it again now, as I creep through her window. My eyes instantly fall onto Fiametta, once I’m inside. I watch the gentle ebb and flow of her chest, rhythmically raising and sinking her duvet covering. Her slightly parted lips are what draw my gaze the longest, much to my stiffening cock’s dismay.

What I wouldn’t give to have another go at it. To feel her soft, full lips engulfed around my throbbing erection. Her spit soothing my aching head, while her eyes roll to the back of her skull in sick enjoyment.

I’ll never get tired of seeing that image.

Focus.

Was that my rational mind or my inner voice?

Get it done. Get out. Danger lurks around every corner.

Definitely the dark spot in the back of my mind.

I lower myself to my haunches and slink my way toward Fiametta’s bed, but when I reach her side, I find her copy of Pride and Prejudice open on the side table. I turn my gaze toward it, to see it’s on the very same page I inspected the night I came here. Her favorite quote from Mr. Darcy, with a new sticky note above all the others.

In big, bold Sharpie, it reads:

Our souls are connected. Mine and his. Entwined in the cosmic fabric. Destined to be together, in life or death.

But can the heart overcome what the mind wishes to reject?

Slowly opening the bedside table’s drawer, I find Fiametta’s writing supplies. I grab the antique edition of the book from where I tucked it into my belt along with a sticky note and pen.

It’s my turn to leave her a message, and I do so, by answering her question and sticking it over the same quote from Mr. Darcy. I set it down next to her old, worn copy and focus my attention on her once more.

I press a gentle kiss against her still damp cheek.

“Your suffering is nearing its end, my Little Flame,” I whisper. “I’ll see to its resolution, personally.”

Chapter Twenty-One

CRUE

“Twice in one night? This bird must be something special,” Mark says as he falls into my BMW’s passenger seat. “What’s it this time? You two finally fuck it out and you realized I was right?”

I don’t indulge his childish antics, favoring a straight-to-the-point approach, given the severity of what made me leave my watch when I should be keeping an eye on Fiametta, lest Tomas try to make another move.

“Lorenzo Napoli has requested a meeting.”

Mark jams his pinky finger into his ear and starts rattling it viciously. “Sorry, I must be going deaf. Say that again?” He’s oddly calm, considering I told him how I’d left things with Lorenzo, when Matteo took me there.

“Don’t come if you’re worried, but I’m going to see what he has to say.”

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