Page 40 of The Devil Can Be Kind

“Just to confirm, Miss Mannino. Are you happy with the vehicle’s specifications before I process the order?”

“Yes, I am. As long as it will have the wide body kit and red calipers we talked about, then I’m happy.” I smiled brightly.

It was the following afternoon, and the second day of my disastrous plan to rile my captor. Was it a wise plan? No, it wasn’t. But was I going to stop behaving like an ass and leave it alone? Also, no.

I was currently in the middle of purchasing an exact replica of my Dodge Hellcat from back in Las Vegas. Only this time, I opted for every single optional extra and of course bought it from new. The idea had come to me in the shower that morning, and while it was a potentially dangerous idea, I was excited to have something I could call my own… Well,kind of.

I quickly signed the papers and handed them back before making the payment. I was almost certain it would be declined, figuring that the odds of the Don giving me an account with$90,000 sitting in it were slim to none. But it was at least worth a shot.

To my complete and utter surprise, the payment went through instantly.

Once we were back in the familiar SUV and hurtling down the street, I directed Alonso to take us to the nearest fast-food franchise and pulled out my phone to call Jesse.

“Yo. Guess what?” I squealed as soon as he picked up.

“Oh god. What now?”

“I bought a car!”

“You didwhat?” I could hear his shock.

“I bought a car! And not just any car, Jesse. MY car!”

“Dear God…” I heard him mutter. “What kind of car is it?”

“Why a Dodge Challenger Hellcat of course,” I teased, and he groaned.

“When do you get it?”

“Two weeks. Do you think Marco will be mad?” I asked somewhat hopefully.

He just laughed into the receiver. “Doubt it. He won’t even get a notification unless a transaction goes over 150k.”

My jaw dropped.

“So, you’re telling me I have more than $150,000 on this card?” I asked cautiously.

What. The. Fuck.

“I would guess you have a lot more than that on there. I told you—it’s practically bottomless.” He chuckled.

“Fuck.”

“Yup.”

“Alright. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back.”

We ended the call, and fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant that clearly served anything but the fast food I had asked for. I shot the guys my best despairing look but otherwise didn’t protest as they escorted me inside.

I was seated at a private booth by myself, while the men sat in another behind me.

I internally sighed and got up to sit next to them.

They both looked somewhat perplexed at my sudden appearance at their table, but didn’t protest as I took a seat. I suppose it wasn’t every day that their ward chose to have lunch with them.

I turned to scowl at Alonso. “Didn’t I say a fast-food place?”

“Sorry, Ma’am. Boss ordered no fast-food.” Came his gruff response.

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