Page 8 of The Devil Can Be Kind

“And, how exactly, areyouan asset?” A cruel, calculating trace of humor colored his tone and I bristled.

“BecauseIcan be used to negotiate alliances in a way few other deals can. Marriage is a very powerful institution in our culture, is it not? Through me, my father plans to expand his empire and forge alliances that are not only built on trust, but arelegallybinding. I would consider that an asset... Plus there is only one of me.”

The Don’s expression darkened, and his face hardened at my words as he saw the logic in my answer.

It didn’t matter that it was a bold asslie.

It was true that marriage contracts were the most powerful way to forge agreements, adding weight to even the most tumultuous business deals…but it wasn’t exactly like my father was rushing to expand his empire, and I hadn’t even caught so much as a whiff of a marriage contract being drawn up with my name on it. As far as I knew, my father wasn’t that botheredabout expanding the Mannino’s reach outside of Las Vegas or about using me to broker an alliance.

Buthedidn’t need to know that.

I crossed my arms and shot him a look I was hoping he would interpret for cool indifference.

“It goes without saying, but if you so much as lay a hand on me during my time as a hostage…Well, my father won’t take too kindly to that. He would consider it an act of war and your family will be hunted long after the ransom’s been paid. You’ll all be dead within a year.”

I prayed to God he didn’t detect the subtle quiver in my tone.

“What makes you think I give a shit about starting a war?” Anger hit me the second I registered theboredomin his tone. Like he would much rather shove nails into his eyes and drink battery acid than continue speaking to me.

“Are you really that stupid?” I bit out.

And instantly regretted it.

Cool tendrils of dread coiled in my chest, culminating into fear when he took a step toward me. Within a second the man was in my face, towering over me with a large hand latched hard around my jaw. He wrenched my head up, forcing me to meet his furious gaze.

I winced at the pain but met his glare head on, refusing to show him any fear and desperate to cling to the facade of self-importance I had constructed.

“Not very smart for a mafia princess, are you?” He spat. The muscle of his jaw ticked as his fingers branded themselves against my skin. “Your family arenothingto players like me. I could exterminate every one of them before the end of the week if I wanted to. Your threats mean nothing.” He promised.

Shit.

Ineededhim to think my family posed some kind of real threat—it was the only chance I had.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Let’s just say you’d have more than only my family to exterminate if that was the case.” I hissed back, fighting against the tightness in my jaw to get the words out.

His lips curled, flashing perfect white teeth.

“Bullshit.” He said, calling my bluff.

Fear curdled my stomach.

I had to up my game. Double-down. Ihadto convince him. I didn’t want to consider the alternative.Couldn’tconsider it.

Fortunately, I did know the name of one business associate of my father’s… even if I had spent the last seven years trying to forget it.

“Not sure my father’s deal with Arturo Lopez constitutes bullshit, but okay. I would be very careful not to underestimate your enemy, Don La Torre. After all, it is harder to fight a war that comes at you from both sides.”

The muscle ticked in his jaw again but after a handful of seconds more, his hand released my face and he stalked away, preferring to glare at me from a distance. The material of his shirt pulled taunt as he crossed his arms, ever the picture of indifference.

“Fine.” He said the word like it disgusted him.

Potent and consuming relief made the weight of my lies melt away the second the word reached my ears.

He believed it.

The story I had fabricated and spun to my advantage…it had been enough to protect me from the very worst this situation had to offer.

He wasn’t going to hurt me.

---