Page 132 of The Devil Can Be Kind

“Don’t be worried. Nothing bad is going to happen.” The confidence in Marco’s voice was unmistakable and it dampened my apprehension a little. “Well, not to us at least.” He smirked, flashing his teeth.

Jesse waltzed back in with another three men, each moving to flank each side of the room in stern silence. Their faces set in a grim expression.

The second time the doors opened, my father, his underboss Ron, my cousin Leon, and their own small security team filtered slowly into the room.

The cold gaze of my father found me immediately but lasted mere seconds as he turned his attention to the man on my left.

This isn’t the first time they’ve met.I quickly realized.

Marco was coolly unaffected by my father’s scrutinous gaze, reclining in his chair with a whiskey. He was power and control personified, and it clearly left a bitter taste in my father’s mouth. His expression soured as he took a seat.

“Alberto Mannino.” Marco’s impervious voice rang out in greeting.

“Marco La Torre.” My father’s gruff voice returned. “Need I remind you that a woman has no place at a negotiation.” He didn’t even look at me when speaking, focusing his attention solely on Marco.

He hasn’t seen me in almost a year and that’s all he has to say?

My temper flared but I held my tongue. Just like I always had as a Mannino. Just as I always did until I had met Marco.

My cousin Leon was already looking at me when I met his gaze, his round face forming a bitter smile across the table.

“You can remind me all you like Mannino, but she is staying.” Marco’s words were cool and confident, leaving no room for debate.

He sank back a mouthful from his tumbler before sliding the glass across the table, “Now. You wanted a discussion about peace between our families, so I suggest you get on with it.”

Hatred flashed in my father’s eyes, but he hid it well. Reclining back into his seat and bringing a hand up to his mouth as he contemplated his next words.

“Both our families have suffered as a result of this war. The hit you orchestrated with the help of my daughter some months ago being a particularly biginconvenienceto my family.” The disgust marring his tone was aimed squarely at me and I fought the need to shrink away in response. “In addition to the gold and the money you stole from me, you stole $30 million worth of premium-class cocaine. That cocaine was being stored as part of a deal with an old family friend and a high-ranking member of the Mexican cartel.”

“I already know about your dealings with Arturo Lopez. Now get to the point.” Marco barked, clearly bored.

“Arturo was murdered recently in a deal gone bad at the border and another has since stepped in to fill his position. The problem is…he isn’t bothered about getting the product back or the money. There is something else he wants to pay off the debt.” When my father’s eyes landed on me, my stomach rolled with nausea.

That’s why they are here.

Of course, that was the reason.

They had no intention of bringing me back into the fold or what they would perceive as ‘rescuing’ me. There was an ulterior motive. There always was with my family, and I couldn’t say I was completely surprised. Nothing about my father was surprising to me anymore.

“So, I’m prepared to make you a deal, La Torre. I will pay the ransom you previously demandedwithinterest, and I will declare peace between our families. In exchange I want my daughter.”

“Who is it that wants her?” Marco’s voice was cold, but I could hear the anger weaving its way between his words.

“Ricardo Lopez.”

The air in my lungs whooshed out of me with a gasp.

Ricardo Lopez.

It felt like a punch in the stomach.

Cool tendrils of fear and dread sliced into my veins, the room around me suddenly becoming unsteady. The pounding in my ears growing acutely painful and the lack of oxygen in my lungs burning as I struggled to catch my breath.

I looked down at my hands, trying to hide the tears clouding my vision.

Thatname.

That washisname.

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