Page 59 of Devious
“I don’t want to see him anymore. Next time he comes here, tell him I’m not here. He’s only here to see my husband.”
The nerve of him coming here asking me to spy on Devious. I’m not building a life with him. I’m building one with Devious. Should I tell him about Papa? If so, I could start something. Papa said it’s not with treason. But who knows? Papa is a liar; it comes with the territory of him being a gambler. Maybe he stole some money from Devious again. Either way, I’m staying out of their business. I’m not going to get caught up in some bullshit that would risk my life. If Papa thinks he can use me for his own personal gain, he’s got another think coming.
Roselyn
We’re on a private plane to Los Angeles. Four bodyguards sit in the other seats, speaking about money.
I sit across from Devious, leaning against the beige leather seat and taking in the lounge area. Everything reeks of money. Devious unbuttons the top of his black dress shirt, exposing his firm chest. My mouth waters and my core tingles.
He taps his clean nails on the armrest. “What happened to your mother?”
I exhale. Her death is a subject I normally don’t speak about to anyone, but if it kills time and keeps me from thinking about sleeping with him, then I can tell him. I still remember the day I came back from sneaking out of the house to go to a party. The thought of it makes me want to bawl my eyes out.
I shake my head, trying to wipe my mind clean from the memory. “She died. Overdose on her sleeping medication.
“Papa rarely let me go to house parties. He didn’t want any boy taking my virginity because he wanted to make sure my hymen was intact when I married whatever man he gave me to. When I came home from a party, I was drunk as fuck, and I crept into her room to sleep in the bed with her. When I opened the door to her bathroom, I found her face down in the water.” I pause, swallowing the huge-ass lump in the back of my throat. “I called the cops, and the paramedics tried to revive her. Papa didn’t care that she died—the fact I got the cops involved pissed him off. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and couldn’t leave her in the tub. Anyhow, they said she had too much medication in her stomach, and if they did bring her back to life, she would be brain-dead because of the water.”
The tension between us is so thick, I can cut it with a knife. A single tear slides down my cheek, and Devious wipes it with his index finger, not saying a word.
“She did it on purpose. I found a suicide letter about how she didn’t want to be abused anymore. She had no purpose of living and she wished I wasn’t a product of rape.”
Devious rests his hand over mine, drawing invisible lines on it. His facial expression gives nothing away.
The flight attendant announces we’re taking off, and I buckle my seat belt. I’ve been on a plane a few times to visit my aunt in Sicily, but I’ve never been on one as nice as this. I don’t think I’ll be able to get used to living in luxury, to be treated as royalty among the otherfamiglias. Sometimes, the wealth is overwhelming. Papa has money, but he was frugal with it. When I went through a phase when I wanted to be a ballerina, I begged Papa to take me to a real class so I could interact with other girls my age. I wanted friends because being locked up in the penthouse was so lonely, and Momma was always out of it when she was on her drugs. Papa didn’t allow me to go to school until I reached fifteen years old.
Devious leans back in the beige leather seat, resting his elbows on the armrests. His eyes meet mine, and he exhales. “My mother died in a car accident six months ago.”
My heart breaks for him. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Hate registers on his face and burns like a wildfire. “It’s not a loss. My mother was an abusive bitch. We hadn’t spoken in six years.”
“What did she do to you? Did she put those scars on your back?”
“Draco put those scars on my back, and she watched.” His tone is low.
A small part of me feels bad for him because no one deserves to suffer from abuse. I want to ask him more questions about his past, but I don’t know if he will answer me.
I didn’t expect Devious to open up to me the way he did. Normally, anything about his life is off-limits.
“What happened to Draco?”
He leans over and whispers, “I had Aiden kill him.”
“Why?”
He swallows hard before answering. “We got tired of his bullshit. His bullying and abuse. He still tried to bully us as adults. He used to take his anger out on us all the time. He tried to bully me into not marrying my first wife by burning down a venue we picked out for our wedding. He was so pissed I was marrying an outsider. Aiden slit his throat. If word got out that Aiden killed him, I would have to charge him for treason.”
This is the first time he ever opened up to me about Shelby. He must have really loved her for him to go against the rules of the mafia for her. I wish I had someone to love me in that way. I never thought Devious had any loyalty to anyone but himself. His brother is the only person he cares about and loves. What it would be like to have a sibling to love unconditionally. Growing up, I was always alone and played by myself, and the only people I really had to talk to were my mother when she was herself and Nonna, but they were always busy.
I clear my throat. “Is that why you have nightmares?”
He shakes his head, and the pain on his face overwhelms me. “Yes and no.”
I’m hoping for him to elaborate on the subject, but he doesn’t. And I know better than to pry because Devious is as closed off as a tight lid on a pickle jar.
Tension builds between us, so I change the subject. “You guys do awful shit.”
He leans forward, tapping his finger on my nose. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re stuck with me, my little nymph.”
