Page 6 of Beautiful Devil

Sittingon the side of the road in my Cadillac Escalade, all I can think is,this is wrong.For one, I’m in the passenger seat. Ineverfucking sit in the passenger seat. I’malwaysin the back. It doesn’t matter that these windows are tinted so dark that it’s virtually impossible to see in, but you can barely seeoutof them. Is it legal? Fuck no. But that’s what happens when you have money and the city’s law enforcement in your back pocket. It also doesn’t hurt that I’m the fucking Don of the Italian mafia in Boston and everyone is scared shitless of me.

Money and power.

Two things men have gone to war over, and I’m the lucky bastard who hasboth.

A sinister smirk crosses my face, and before I can school my features, Marco notices and asks, “What’s that look for?”

Of course the bastard noticed. He’s not my right-hand man for just any reason. Nothing gets past that fucker – it’s what I pay him for. Ignoring his question, I voice what I’ve been thinking in my head.

“This is wrong.”

Marco takes his eyes off the street he’s canvassing and quickly glances at me.

“What’s wrong?”

I let out an exasperated sigh and motion with my hands to the space between us as I say, “This. Me here. Sitting in the passenger seat. I’m the Don, for fuck’s sake. I don’t sit in the fucking passenger seat, nor should I be out here patrolling with you. What good is it being in my position if I still have to do the fucking dirty work? Fucking kids,” I grumble.

Marco doesn’t take his eyes off the road when he says, “If I recall,youare the one whoinsistedon coming with me tonight. I told you Luigi and I were going to do the stakeout, but you said, and I quote, ‘fuck that.’ If you didn’t want to come, then why are you here?”

Of course that fucker had to ask me the same question I’ve been asking myself since this morning when I muttered those very words.

Why the fuck am I here?

The fuck if I know. There was just something intriguing – an instinct, you could say – about the file that Marco handed me, and as soon as I opened it, I couldn’t stop looking at the pictures inside.

Gia D‘Amato.

Dio mio,she is beautiful. Short brown hair and big, beautiful doe eyes in a unique shade of brown that the photos don’t do justice to.

Clean-faced in the pictures, but one look at her told me makeup would be wasted on her natural beauty. Her rose-colored cheeks and smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose only added to it.

If I was honest with myself, I already knew the answer as to why I was here. Ever since Marco gave me her file following Gallo’s arrest, I haven't been able to get the brunette beauty out of my mind.

There’s just something about her that keeps pulling me in. It’s almost become an obsession for me. Tailing her, going on stakeouts with my men – doing just about anything I can to catch a glimpse. I tell them it’s because I want to be the one to catch her doing something, but while it may have started that way, now I simply can’t stay away.

Lost in my thoughts about Gia, Jeff starts barking in the back seat. Yet another reason why I’m stuck in the fucking front passenger seat and not in the back with the privacy screen up in my own little cocoon, ignoring the world around me. Even if itisjust a stupid illusion…that seclusion is the only real form of “peace” I get in my world.

Jeff starts jumping in the back, and I look up at the same time Marco says, “She’s here.”

Glancing to my left, I see the car that Gia drives coming toward us, and I automatically start reading the license plate.

So what if it’s excessive?

In my line of work, you can never be too careful, and it’s usually a matter of life or death. Once I confirm it’s Gia, I laser-focus in on her car.

It’s an older model – a 2009 silver Toyota Camry with a small dent on the driver’s door. This car has definitely seen better days and looks like it’s on its last legs.

Fucking Gallo.

His name alone just pisses me off and instantly puts me in a bad mood. Not only because of the stupid meaning behind it. (Who the fuck names their son “rooster”? Everyone knows that rooster is just another name for cock. Fucking cocksucker.) But also because he’s a piece of shit. Stealing millions ofmymoney while letting his wife drive around inthat?

He couldn’t even spare a little bit of it to buy her a new car?

Whoa. Where thefuckdid that just come from? I wonder as I shake my head and turn to Marco.

“Showtime,” I say.

He exits the vehicle and starts walking in her direction when heaccidentallydrops Jeff's leash and lets him jump on Gia from behind. I see Marco offer his trademark grin before schooling his features. As soon as Jeff is back on all fours, I can finally take Gia in…

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