Page 39 of Beautiful Devil

“You need to see this,gattina.”

“I don’t want to watch myself being kidnapped and my life as I knew it being over in the matter of seconds. How could you expect me towantto see this?”

He takes the phone back, fiddles on the screen again and shoves it back in my hand. I’m about to throw the damn thing so it can break into a million pieces when he grabs my arm and is somehow at my back, his arms wrapped in a death grip around me. From this position, I can smell his delicious scent that's making me dizzy with want. He dips his head so he can talk directly in my ear. That movement causes a shiver to run down my body as his deep sexy voice tickles my ear with his spoken words.

“I’m not asking you to watch yourself get kidnapped. I want you to see what we saw after the car chase that ensued following your capture.”

Car chase? My body goes still as he lets the video play again on his phone. This time, it shows the corner of the building with a man peering out from the side. He zooms out so I can take in the full picture. I’m walking up to my apartment door, oblivious to this man lurking around the corner. Just when I think the lurking man is going to start moving in my direction to kidnap me, another figure comes up from behind me and grabs me. I turn my head, not wanting to see any more. My mind is whirling with what he just showed me, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

I’m trying to take some calming breaths, but his hold is too tight and they come out more ragged than intended. He must pick up on this because his arms loosen a little around me, allowing me to take in some deep breaths.

Trying with all my might for him to not see just how much that little clip affected me, I ask, “What does that have to do with this person you call Dante?”

Still speaking directly into my ear, he answers matter-of-factly. “Did you see that man on the corner of the building?”

All I can do to answer is nod and swallow audibly.

“That man was one of Dante’s men. Apparently, they were trailing you all night and my men somehow missed it.”

I bet if I turned around right now, I would see dark pools of black for his eyes on his stone-cold face. But I don’t dare move, because something tells me that I need to hear what he has to say.

“My men and I were watching you very closely at Diavolo. There was no one else inside watching. At least they’re not that stupid to step foot on my turf. Security cameras show that he had men cased outside the building waiting for you to leave. One of Dante’s men acted as your Uber driver while his others followed you home. Apparently, he didn’t want to take any chances, but his men didn’t notice us tailing you the whole way home. Which explains why his men not only chased us afterward, but also why they haven't stopped snooping around looking for you since. If you truly want to take your chances with Dante, then be my guest and leave.”

I’m shocked and terrified by everything he’s just told me, but I can only focus on one thing right now: Elle. I spin around so quickly he drops the phone, and its loud noise as it hits the marble floor is the only sound in the room. I don’t even try to mask my horror when I ask my next question.

“Elle? Please tell me she’s okay.” Tears are pooling in my eyes as I’m nervously waiting to hear about my best friend.

Please, God, let Elle be okay. Please say that these men did not do anything to her, I beg silently.

“She’s fine. They didn’t touch her.” His words put me at ease as I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Oh, Fabi, thank God!”

Not letting myself wonderwhenexactly it was I decided to start using the nickname, I throw my arms around him. I’m just so happy that Elle is okay. I don’t even get to appreciate how his body feels pressed up against mine because I extract myself just as quickly.

“I need your answer,gattina.”

Yep, that one sentence sobered me up. What am I going to do? I thought he’d been lying before about this Dante guy until he showed me the footage. I have to admit, it would be pretty hard to fake. But marrying him? I just got out of a terrible marriage and was finally on track to getting my life back. Sure, my apartment is small and drab and I still don’t have a job, but I’m working on it. Beyond all that, though, is the fact that I haven’t had to answer to anyone for the first time in my life.

Can I really marry someone I don’t know? My only alternative is to live in fear and keep looking over my shoulder, wondering when it’s time to die. No matter what decision I make, my life as I know it is over. I just hope I don’t make the wrong one.

Wordlessly, I give the smallest of nods. I can feel my entire body shutting down on me with that one simple movement. I don’t have time to process what I just agreed to because, Moretti wordlessly ushers me to the back of the salon, in a different chair with a sink attached to it. He says something to another blonde bimbo, but I don’t hear what he says. It’s all mumbled, as though my head's underwater. It’s not like it would matter, anyway, because they don’t speak English. After another minute of talking, he turns on his heel and walks away.

Blonde bimbo number two motions for me to lie back as she sets out to rewash my damp, almost dry hair. Closing my eyes, I try to block out everything around me. I feel like I’m in a tunnel, where I’m standing still and everyone is passing by so quickly, they look like flashes of light.

Before I know it, my hair and makeup are done and I’m being ushered into a dressing room. More strange women are grabbing at me and undressing me. This would usually be the part where I’d put my foot down and tell them I wanted some privacy, but I’m so numb to everything that I just don’t care anymore.

I take in my appearance when I’m turned to face a mirror. My hair is down in soft curls, half of it pulled back with a string of baby's breath tucked in. Minimal makeup. Neutral colors around my eyes, made to accentuate my natural lashes, and taupe lip gloss to finish off the elegant look.

My eyes roam lower over the simple white lace dress I’m wearing, strapless and designed to match the baby’s breath in my hair. It’s floor-length but stops perfectly at my ankles, almost as if it’s been altered to my height – in fact, everything about it feels custom made, but I tuck that thought away for another time.

I don’t recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror. From the outside, I look like a beautiful bride ready to walk down the aisle. But on the inside, I feel my body begin to shut down.

A knock at the door has me collecting myself. I expect to see Fabi walking through the doors, but instead I see a big man walk in – the same one I ran into with Jeff the dog right outside the deli. He’s dressed in a black suit custom-fit to his giant body. His muscles are even bigger than I remember.

I don’t say anything while he assesses me in what I can only assume is his way of approving my appearance for Moretti. He moves closer to me and extends a hand the size of a shovel to introduce himself.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met before. I’m Marco. I work for Don Moretti. Boss wanted me to come check on you to see if you were ready.”

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