Page 12 of The Devil Can Be Kind

“It was. I opened it for you to see what you’d do.” He chuckled.

“Just shut up.”

He walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, gesturing with a hand for me to get in.

“Get in, Bandit. I’ll take you back.”

I scowled at the new nickname and tossed him my bag, getting into the SUV before slamming the door behind me. A few moments passed before Jesse climbed into the driver’s seat, shaking with laughter.

“Something funny?” I demanded, turning my whole body to face him as he turned the key.

“Your get-away bag literally has nothing but handbags in it.” He eventually managed to get out.

“They areChanelhandbags! What was I supposed to do?” I answered furiously as he started the car.

With a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips, he pressed a button on the dash and the gates swung open to allow us to pass. We followed the tarmac up a slight incline for a couple of minutes until the front of the house came into view, illuminated by hundreds of exterior lights.

I say house, but in reality, it resembled a palace much more than any house I’d ever seen. It was regal to an intimidating degree. A beige stone palace right smack in…Where the hell was I?Whoever Don La Torre was, he almost certainly had more money than God.

The SUV rolled to a stop in front of a stone portico that framed the main entrance. I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that I wouldn’t be leaving the house again for God-knows how long…maybe not ever. Something clutched painfully at my chest.

I might die here.

The realization that my death was a not just possible but potentially inevitable, hit me like a bucket of ice. Whether my ransom was paid or not, whether my ruse was believed or not, my odds of getting out of this situation alive were slim to none. And based on the apathetical Don that lived behind these walls, there was a chance I was already living on borrowed time.

Attempting to run away was surely a punishable offence by the Don’s standard, ransom or not. What was going to happen to me now?

Nausea rolled in my stomach and my ears rang painfully.

“Are you going to get out? The front door is unlocked,” Jesse prompted.

“I-I—" My chest constricted again, and I couldn’t catch a breath.

I started shaking uncontrollably, and black spots danced in my vision. My breathing coming in fits and starts—a panic attack. I was having a panic attack.

Out of my periphery I saw Jesse jump out of the car but barely recognized I was being moved until he was crouched in front of me through my now open door. His mouth was opening as if he were speaking, but I couldn’t make out the words over the incessant ringing in my ears and fear clutching at my chest.

I glanced at the intimidating man before me, his hands capturing mine as he tried to get my attention. Trying to calm me.

With a harsh tug on my hands, I finally began hearing his voice amongst the suffocating silence, “Look at me, Adalyn. Everything is okay. You are well. You are safe.” He kept repeating the words over and over.

I concentrated on his voice, slowing my breathing to the words until the tightness in my chest subsided enough that I could let in a breath of air. Slowly, my breathing became steadier and stronger as the seconds wore on. The tightness lifting infinitesimally with each breath.

When my head cleared and my senses eventually returned, I looked down at our entangled hands in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. That was pathetic.” I croaked, pulling my hands away and swatting some of my escaped tears.

“Not pathetic.”

“Yeah, it is. I don’t know what happened.” I admitted. “I think it just hit me that I’m probably going to die here. Or worse.” I shrugged, faking nonchalance with the statement.

Jesse just chuckled and shook his head as he stood up.

“You aren’t going to die here or anything else.” He said seriously. “Don La Torre is not a monster.”

I laughed in disbelief. “You don’t know Don’s very well then.”

“I’d say I do. The Boss and I grew up together and I knew his late father very well too. Marco is no monster.” He pulled the door wider and gestured exaggeratedly between the SUV and the entryway. “Now are you going to get your ass out of my car or are you planning on running away again?”

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