Page 26 of The Devil Can Be Kind

I didn’t have time to processthatas he was already speaking again.

“Like I said before, you are to remain here. But you are no longer a hostage.”

He crossed the distance between us slowly, his footsteps silent against the plush carpet as he stopped less than a foot away. The Don reached a hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out an unfamiliar white phone, holding it out.

“Abuse it and you will lose it.” He warned ominously.

“You’re giving me a phone?” I questioned cautiously. Tentatively taking the phone from his outstretched hand.

“Not a hostage, remember?” He responded dryly, stepping away and seemingly surveying the room.

Allowing me some privacy, I quickly realized.

I pushed at one of the buttons on the device and the screen immediately lit up in response, opening on a home screen. It had already been configured.

It took me less than thirty seconds to determine that despite the phone in my hand, there was no way for me to contact my family. I didn’t have their numbers, and even if I could somehow miraculously remember the digits, they would have been changed the moment the La Torre’s had made contact. The only other hope I had was through social media…if that hadn’t also been deleted already and I couldn’t be sure. I tried to check anyway, but the permissions on the phone were all denied, blocking me from accessing any of it.

It was disappointing…but did I really want to make contact with my family? The fact that my initial response to that question wasno, unsettled me more than anything else.

I clicked on the contacts list and found two numbers already keyed in.

I snorted out a laugh, “You are such an ass.” I muttered, then contemplated how sane I was for insulting him.

He was just provoking you though, remember? He wants you fiery…

The Don turned back around, facing me once again.

“That’s funny, I could have sworn I just bought you a new phone.” He scowled, but it seemed like with fabricated annoyance this time rather than genuine irritation.

“I don’t mean the phone. The phone is actually… Thank you.” I coughed awkwardly.

His gaze shot toward the window behind me as he muttered a nearly inaudible, “You’re welcome.”

I had to force myself to swallow before continuing. “It’s just… You saved your name as ‘Don La Torre’ in my contacts. That’s a little formal, don’t you think?”

He let out a dark, low chuckle that sent tingles dancing down my spine.

Holy hell.

That sound was dangerous.

“What else would I call myself?” He asked somewhat rhetorically, but curiosity and challenge seemingly battled away in his eyes. Hewantedme to answer.

He wants me to challenge him,I realized.

“I can think of a few names better suited.” I offered cheerily and he scowled with faux irritation.

Adrenaline mixed with fear trilled through my system. I doubted he allowed many people to challenge him like this…and it was exhilarating.

He turned and walked back toward the door. Then stopped. I pretended not to notice his pause, though in reality I was always too keenly aware of this enigmatic man’s presence.

“Ada?” The word sent my heart racing into overdrive.

“Marco.” I responded dryly, keeping my eyes on the phone.

His silence told me he wasn’t happy about my omission of his title, but he didn’t comment on it like before.

“I have a meeting at one of my clubs tomorrow night. You will attend.”

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