Page 62 of A Beautiful Crime

Now this is amusing. Did or didn’t Don Fiore promise me Carina will be a docile wife? Not that I wish her to be. Her defiance and spirit are what I love most about her. But teaching her self defense contradicts his promise.

My lips twitch despite myself, failing to hide the humor I find in all of this. “So you think I will hurt her?”

He raises a brow at me and comments mockingly, “You are The Devil of the East Coast.”

I take pride in the name that was given to me. I am The Devil of the East Coast. But hearing it come from Luca’s lips, mocking it, mocking me.

Well, I want to sew his fucking mouth shut after feeding him his own tongue.

“Si,” I agree coolly, lowering my tone to a threatening one, “something you seem to keep forgetting. Tell me, Luca, is it a terrible memory you have or are you that much of an arrogant asshole?”

Luca reacts how I expect him to. After studying him and gaining intel through Gino I know the man before me does not do well with keeping his composure.

His cheeks flush a bright red as his jaw ticks.

Eliciting a rise out of Luca is becoming more enjoyable each time I do it. He thinks so highly of himself. Basedon appearances and actions to the public he’s perfection personified. So ruffling his feathers, cracking the poised composure and knocking him off his pedestal brings me great enjoyment.

“If my memory serves me correctly,” he begins stiffly, adjusting his gold cufflinks, “this union between you and my sister is to set peace and bring together the two most powerful families of the outfits.”

I refrain from snorting, but I do roll my eyes.

The only powerful Famiglia there is, is my own.

The Fiore Famiglia, a part of the Sicilian Outfit, are a dying breed. They haven’t held power for over three decades.

And as long as there is air in my lungs and blood flowing through my veins the outfit of The Costra Nostra, The Donati Famiglia, will reign supreme.

“Is there any peace in this life?” I hear Carina mutter softly under her breath. It’s so soft that it can rival a mouse.

My lips twitch.

My lioness is forming a spine. She’ll need that to rule by my side.

I turn my head, offering her the side of my profile. She catches my eye, looking rather surprised of freely speaking her opinion and of me hearing it. Her eyes go wide. Then I see the alarm in them.

To have such a reaction so quickly after voicing her opinion I know it must be from conditioning.

How foolish of her papa and brother.

You can tame a kitten but you can never tame a lion.

I wink at her, keeping this between us. I watch as the blood rushes to her cheeks and relish how her body betrays hers so wantonly.

Her eyes narrow.

And I’m finding her anger as much as a turn on as her desire, if not more.

Before she can tell yet another lie I say to Luca, “And you have your sister to thank for it.” I raise a brow at him, a sinister smirk pulls my lips. “Have you thanked her yet, Luca? If not for her peace wouldn’t be feasible.”

His jaw ticks away as various emotions swirl in his eyes. The ones I see the most? The flash of malice with the hint of annoyance and a dash of disdain. All aimed at the woman who has come to stand besides me rather than being kept hidden behind me.

“It is her duty as Don Fiore’s only daughter,” he responds coldly. “She was born to be a wife of a Don.”

I feel Carina stiffen beside me. It’s the only reaction she offers because as I subtly study her, her face is stoic.

Those emerald eyes just mere seconds ago were alive, and now they’re dead.

It’s the facade she gives to the public. The facade she’s been performing since six months ago. Since she killed her younger brother.

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