Page 7 of The Devil Can Be Kind

“I’ve been watching you for a while now, Adalyn.” He continued after a moment. “You see, the Mannino’s double-crossed my family a long time ago and took something irreplaceable from me. So…when the opportunity presented itself, I decided to take something in return. You.”

With a deliberate slowness that spoke of power and authoritarian control, he rose to his feet. Coming toward me with a predatory stalk that sent a chill down my spine. He languidly leaned against the rich mahogany before me, shooting me a gaze that was more predatory than it was human.

My God, the man was huge.

Not Adonis’s level of huge, butstill… He was right around the six-foot mark, and while his muscle density paled in comparison to the other man’s, the Don had a more aggressive physic. A testament to a lifetime of discipline, persistence, and countless hours spent training, I was sure. Even to the most untrained eye, he looked the epitome of lethal.

I swallowed the frog in my throat and forced myself to look away from the man that more closely resembled the devil himself.

His fingers drummed absentmindedly against the desk beside him. “You belong to me now, as my hostage, and until your father meets my demands you will stay my hostage indefinitely.”

Dread and fear leaked into my blood in equal measure. The hair on my arms rose as the realization of my situation hit me.

Shit.

I didn’t know how I had found myself trapped here, who the hell this man was before me, or where in the godforsaken country I evenwasright now… but it didn’t matter. Not really. All that mattered was the very real possibility of torment, pain, and brutality that awaited me until my father paid their ransom.

Assuming they would let me leave at all.

Unfortunately, I knew how Mafia men operated and knew that the odds of me leaving this situation unscathed while waiting for my ransom to be paid were dwindling by the second.

If I was going to survive, I had to think of something.

The only problem was I didn’t haveanythingto offer him. I had been kept away from the family business my entire life, and I didn’t have even the smallest bit of information that could help save me from this situation.

But Ihadto think of something. If I didn’t… I didn’t want to think about what could happen to me.

I had heard too many men being tortured by my cousins to not know what was coming for me. But, I had also watched the men of my family navigate conflict, master manipulation and perpetually act with an often-false sense of bravado, too. I had seen many men play this game every day of my life… Now my survival was going to rest on how well I could play that game, too.

I bit back my fear as an idea cemented itself in my head.

Here goes nothing.

I sighed loudly in irritation. As if being held a hostage was merely annoying as opposed to terrifying. “Have you even made contact with my family yet?”

The Don’s expression darkened in what I was certain was insult. “Obviously.”

Clearly this man didn’t like being questioned. Couldn’t say I had met many Cosa Nostra men that did…but I filed that piece of information away for later anyway.

“Then I’m unconcerned.” I dismissed.Liar.I shoved away my fear and forced myself to shrug with a nonchalance I didn’t feel, “This will all be over soon enough.”

“You seem oddly sure of yourself.” The Don remarked, unimpressed.

A bead of sweat tracked down the back of my neck, keenly aware of how my next words could mean the difference between living, dying, or torture.

I didn’t know what kind of man stood before me now or what he might be capable of, but I knew his type well enough to know a monster lived beneath his skin.

My lie was going to have to be a good one.

I hid my fear behind a smile, “Oh,I am. You see, you haven’t just stolen some random Don’s daughter that doesn’t stand to inherit anything. You’ve stolen one of my father’s greatestassets. Whatever ransom you’re demanding, he’ll pay it. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he would pay you more if that meant mysafereturn.”

A second ticked by in silence. My heart beat in my throat as the man seemed to evaluate me, weighing up my words and searching for something in my expression.

I prayed to God he didn’t see the cracks in my façade.

I had never been a very good liar.

Eventually, he smirked.

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