Page 95 of The Devil Can Be Kind

ADALYN

Restless from the events of the previous night, the next day I found a quiet spot on the terrace and logged in to my laptop to catch up on some work from the casino.

My emails were a complete mess, so I’d spent the better half of the morning responding to colleagues and sorting out the most important admin bits I hadn’t managed to get around to before leaving for Sicily.

Thankfully, Jesse had joined me for lunch, but his mood was more serious than normal, and he was vague when I asked what was bothering him. He mentioned something evasive about a deal falling through, which they were currently trying to ‘handle’ and said that he didn’t know if he’d be around for dinner. He didn’t sit with me long after that.

Trying my best to ignore the knot in my stomach that had formed since last night, I threw myself back into my work with renewed vigor. I checked through the interdepartmental docketsand finalized some of the blueprints for a newly re-developed second floor.

I was sifting through the company expenses when a loud BANG echoed through the halls and jolted me from my work.

But it wasn’t a bang at all—it was a gunshot.

A wave of sheer horror hit me like a ton of bricks.

I was on my feet and running before I even realized I was out of my chair.

I sprinted through the halls, my sandals slapping against the marble as I took turn after turn toward the sound. As I got closer, another bang blasted through the halls.

No, no, no. NO! This cannot be happening.

Panicking, I picked up the pace and ran as fast as I could down the final hallway.

Without a thought for what I was getting myself into, I crashed through the double doors into Marco’s study. The moment I did, I noticed two things simultaneously.

The first: The heads of Jesse, Benny and the security team all swinging around in shock at my entrance.

The second, and perhaps the most unmistakable: Marco with a gun in his hand, looking down at two lifeless bodies.

The Don’s expression wasn’t one of anger, frustration or even remorse. He simply looked bored. Like the life he’d extinguished and blood pooling on the floor meant nothing to him. And while that menacing coldness should have repelled me, the only thought that registered in my head was:He’s okay.

Then the room dropped to black.

When I came around,I was in my room and lying in the center of the bed. I tried to remember how I had got there, given thesunlight still shining through the open windows, but my mind just drew a blank.

I pulled myself upright and was surprised when my head started throbbing with pain.

The second my hand touched the sore spot on my scalp, the memory of two men lying unconscious flashed across my eyes.

Marco had killed them. I had fainted.

“Move slowly. You hit your head pretty bad.” My head swung around to the occupied seat in the corner of the room. Marco’s hooded eyes met mine instantly. “The doctor said you’ll be fine. No concussion.”

I studied him as he rose to his feet, taking a few slow steps toward me. Just like one might do when walking toward a wild animal.

He thinks I’m afraid of him,I realized.Was I afraid of him?

I was more afraid of myself when I found that the only answer I had wasno.

“You can stop that. I’m not scared of you.” I threw myself back on the bed and he let out a dark chuckle.

“Are you sure? You did just see two dead men in my study.” He asked sternly, though there was an edge of humor to his voice that I didn’t miss.

“Big deal. My father shot the boy I was seeing in my bed. I’ve seen worse.” I blanched at myself.

Why the hell did I just tell him that?

I’d never told anyone that before.

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