Page 47 of The Devil Can Be Kind

I could remember the two DEA agents coming to our mansion in Las Vegas before we disappeared and became the ‘Parkers’. I remembered the numerous meetings my family had hosted with them, the numerous times their cars were on the driveway… I hadn’t known what it was about at the time. It was like a puzzle piece finally falling into place.

“He set us up. It was practically an extermination of my family, and my father died in the process. I had no choice but to become the head of this family when I was twenty-two. I’ve been seeking revenge ever since,” he finished simply. He slid his empty tumbler across the table and rubbed at his chin, as if he could rub away the hint of emotion etched across his skin.

“That’s why you took me. To take someone he loves away from him… You were going to kill me,” I said, finally understanding everything.

“It did cross my mind to kill you, but it turns out that I’m not as ruthless as I thought. So, I held you hostage instead,” he said, looking away somewhat shamefully after admitting his weakness. His humility.

“My intention was to get back the money my family had lost and make him suffer in the process. But your father is even more abhorrent than I could have anticipated. He didn’t hesitate to turn his back on his own.”

The sentence hung there for a minute, weighing heavily against the silence. Against me.

My family were rats… A disgrace to everything our society valued about honor.

“I’m sorry you lost your father so young… And I am truly sorry for what my family has done to yours. It is unforgivable,” I said after a quiet moment. “I now understand why you hate me so much. I don’t even blame you,” I said, meeting his eyes so he could see my sincerity.

“I don’t hate you, Ada.” His deep voice took on a rough edge, raw with his own honesty. “None of what happened was your fault. I will not punish you for the crimes of your father.”

Our eyes fell into a kind of deadlock across the table, and I felt something shift in the air between us. I couldn’t be sure, but I swore I could see the darkness in his eyes simmer into something softer.

Something I was certain he would have seen echoed in mine.

He wasn’t the cruel, calculated Don I had convinced myself existed. He was a man who had lost his father and tried to enact revenge in the only way he knew how. Only he wasn’t cruel enough or twisted enough to go through with it, so he changed tact and demanded a ransom instead. He wasn’t the merciless killer he needed to be or thought that he was.

He was a square peg forced into a round hole—just like me.

Something like recognition flickered between us.

Thankfully, the door slamming open and Jesse waltzing into the room broke through the trance that had ensnared us, stopping Marco from uttering the next words poised on his lips.

Jesse immediately informed Marco that the men they were meeting with had begun to arrive and a flurry of activity ensued. The three of us accompanied by our collective bodyguards made our way down to the main club in preparation.

When the elevators opened this time, it revealed a private seating arrangement on its own mezzanine floor above the rest of the room. It was both intimate and classy, featuring its own solid oak bar and two waitresses ready with decanters full of whiskey. The guards took their positions by the exits, and I tookthat as my queue to leave, heading down the stairs to the floor below just as three leery middle-aged men approached.

At the bar, I ordered myself a drink and took one of the open seats, swiveling around so I could look up at the balcony. I was intrigued by what the meeting was about and who the unfamiliar men were that I had passed on the steps.

The first thing I noted was Jesse standing against the rails observing me and I did a little wave at him. He smiled before taking a seat with the other people. I say people… The men had apparently been joined with six or so other women. All scantily clad and all extremely beautiful.Hookers.

My lips pursed, and I turned my chair back to the bar, not wanting to watch any longer.

After an hourof crowd watching and drinking, I became restless and bored. I had downed my drink and, feeling gutsy, decided I would go in search of Jesse.

Alonso was at the foot of the stairs now alongside Tom. I greeted them both before making my way up to the raucous laughter and undeniable smell of sickly-sweet perfume.

Jesse was the first to notice me, grinning as if he was genuinely happy to see me. I began to smile back but stopped the moment I saw the full scene in front of me.

The three men I had passed earlier were sat with Jesse and Marco on a luscious red sofa. Women were scattered between them, languishing suggestively over the men and serving something on a platter. As I came closer, I realized the white trails on the silver surface were, in fact, cocaine.

It didn’t bother me that drugs were present in the booth—as much as I despised drugs, I had half expected it—what botheredme was that Marco was shooting a line while a stunning brunette sucked on his neck and groped at his crotch.

The moment he pulled away our eyes met, and I felt inexplicably…hurt.

The closeness and care I had felt toward him earlier all but vanished in an instant.

They were all the same—Mafia men. Whatever I thought was happening between us earlier, I had been wrong.

I turned on my heel and escaped back to the bar, fully intending to drown my stupidity and hurt into oblivion.

I ordered three shots of vodka and downed them one after the other.

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