Page 131 of The Devil Can Be Kind

I laughed once without humor. “Let me guess. You picked the venue.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, his smile growing. “It has a certain symmetry to it.”

I got to my feet and circled the desk, coming to stand by his side.

“What do you think he wants?” I asked quietly as he tugged me down onto his lap.

“I have an idea.” He said, eyeing me pointedly. “Not that it matters. I’d burn him and his entire city to the ground before he’d ever get the chance.”

Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I had no doubt that he meant what he said. Not when his deep brown eyes sliced into mine with an intensity that made my insides burn.

Marco was no monster, but he was certainly no hero either. If it meant keeping me by his side, I had no doubt he would follow through on his words.

“You are mine and if that means war with the Mannino’s for the rest of my existence then so be it.” His voice took on a lethal edge that promised violence and I stifled a shudder.

I brought my fingers to his face, caressing his skin trying to placate his inner turmoil.

“It won’t come to that,” I breathed. “Besides, I’m not going anywhere without putting up a fight. I’m very deadly you know,”I said sweetly and quirking an eyebrow, daring him to challenge me on it.

His deep chuckle made my heart swell, and my arms wound around his neck on instinct. Humor sparked in his eyes and a smirk pulled at his lips.

“Deadly.” He agreed.

The plane rideto Las Vegas that Friday was tense.

The men talked heatedly over strategy at the conference table while I stared aimlessly out the window trying not to bite off the inside of my cheek.

Knowing I would see my father for the first time in almost a year, made anxiety bubble in my chest. The father I thought I had for twenty-five years wasn’t the same man I now knew him to be. Everything was different.

Iwas different.

Most of Marco’s security had already been assembled at The Venetian Prince. He had brought over thirty extra bodies to facilitate the evening meeting and to ensure everything went asplanned. Although, the specific details of thatplanweren’t shared with me, Marco had insisted that killing my father wasn’t part of it. That his primary motivation was getting everyone on our side in and out safely. Especially me.

The club was just the same as I remembered.

The building itself towered over everything within a two-block radius—a hard feat given that it was on the Las Vegas strip. The building gleamed with the light of Friday evening traffic and reflected the neon signs of nearby venues like an ostentatious mirror. Queues of people dotted the sidewalk outside as we spedpast in the SUV, turning into an underground parking garage beneath the club itself.

The lot was deathly silent as we exited. Flickering fluorescent lights were setting my teeth on edge as we crossed the cement to the bank of elevators. The seven of us piled into a marble-paneled box to ascend up the levels. Jesse and Layton were talking animatedly into their wrists as we went, liaising with the rest of the security team stationed at various points across the club’s blueprint. I couldn’t help but tremble as my adrenaline spiked the moment the elevator doors opened on the fiftieth floor.

Jesse led us down a short, unfamiliar hallway and through a set of double doors, revealing an enormous conference room. At its heart stood a rectangular wood table, polished to perfection and surrounded by twenty leather backed chairs. Two of the room’s walls were entirely made of glass, overlooking the familiar twinkling lights of the Las Vegas city skyline, while the other two featured large abstract paintings. It was sleek, modern, and undeniably sophisticated.

In my periphery, I saw Marco walk over to the console on the right and heard the clinking of glass as he poured himself a drink. The other men huddled in muted discussion by the door. A few heavy minutes passed by before Jesse cleared his throat.

“They are here.”

Marco seemed unconcerned by the news as he slowly turned to the men. “Once everyone is in position, send them up.”

Jesse nodded, and the men sprang into action. Alonso and Tom moved to stand on either side of the doors we had just entered through, while Wyatt and Layton moved to stand on either side of what I presume would be Marco’s seat at the head of the table. I counted three guns on each of them…and those were only the ones I could see. Benny also sat off to the side, face stern and a gun strapped to his hip.

Marco had reassured me on the drive over that no blood would be spilled tonight, but he clearly wasn’t betting on it.

If I wasn’t nervous before, I certainly was now.

Marco took to his seat, furthest from the doors and gestured for Wyatt to move another chair next to him.

“Ada,” he ordered, looking from me to the chair.

I complied without hesitation, feeling not only out of my depth, but as if anxiety threatened to eat me alive. My heartbeat thundered in my ears and my throat turned to sandpaper.

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