Page 13 of Devious Kingpin
“Well, your brother kind of asked for it,” I remarked wryly. Not that any of that would matter anymore. They were married and they were happy.
Emory shrugged. “I wouldn’t have let it happen if Basilio meant her harm. He didn’t. He looked for her for months.”
Tilting my head, I studied her. She was pretty. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Petite frame. But her strength shone through her eyes. Like she had seen some shit and had come out on top. About our age, maybe a year or two older. Until now, I never really cared to ask her, but it had me wondering what her story was. I knew from what little Wynter shared that Emory’s brother, Basilio, trusted her as much as he did anyone else in his circle. She was sharp, smart, and pretty.
“Who taught you how to fight?” I blurted out, her taunting of my brother forgotten.
Her expression softened and she smiled. “My cousins and Basilio, mostly.”
“Even though you’re a girl?” It felt like a stupid question, but it wasn’t. Not in the underworld. Women were usually used for alliances or negotiations, but we were never given the power to be strong.
“Exactly for that reason.” When she saw the question in my eyes, she clarified, “They didn’t want me vulnerable. They trained me so I could stand up to any man and not let him fuck with me.”
Okay, one point for the DiLustros. Our family definitely lacked in that department.
“Did it work?” I asked curiously.
“For the most part.” I wanted to know what that meant, but before I could ask, she excused herself. “See you around.”
She left me pondering this revelation. For some reason, it was hard to imagine the DiLustro men training a girl and making her strong enough to kick anyone’s ass. Even my brother’s. Not that I thought she could kick Killian’s ass. Unless he let her.
Ivy joined me, taking a seat next to me, her red hair catching rays of sunshine and glimmering like flames. She looked as thrilled as I was about this wedding halfway across the world.
“These weddings are starting to get on my nerves,” she muttered under her breath, stealing the words out of my mouth. She seemed agitated. It was uncharacteristic of her. Me, not so much. “I’m half expecting the Yakuza to show up.”
Okay, that was going a bit too far.
“What’s going on?” I asked her gently. She just shrugged and I narrowed my eyes on her. She was hiding something. “Ivy?”
Her hazel eyes flitted over my head and I followed her gaze to where Priest DiLustro stood.
“Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on Priest?” I grumbled. A blush crept up her neck, and I shook my head in disbelief. “He couldn’t have been that good.”
“We didn’t go all the way,” she hissed in a low voice.
“Did you even get halfway?” I questioned. As much as she swooned over Priest, you’d think he wined and dined her, maybe sent her flowers every day. Yet, as far as I could tell, the two of them barely exchanged a few words. They had a moment back in Philly last year. Ivy might have been reluctant to share with me any more details, but from what little she did share was that Priest gave her the very first orgasm.
Apparently, it left a mark on both of them, because the two were constantly glancing at each other.
She waved her hand. “It doesn’t matter because—”
Her voice trailed off, and I waited for her to finish. She didn’t.
“Because?” I urged.
Her eyes traveled over the wedding party, pausing again on Priest. The moment he glanced over, she looked away with her jaw clenched. Her cheeks warmed, but something was off. Almost as if she was uncomfortable.
She met my gaze and swallowed hard. Then as if she couldn’t hold it in anymore, she leaned closer to me.
“Because that guy is crazy,” she whispered.
I scoffed softly. “They’re all crazy. Nothing new or unusual there.”
She shook her head. “Not like him, Jules. He's totally out there. He’d qualify for a mental institution.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “What makes you say that?”
She shook her head. “I can’t tell you,” she murmured.
