Page 3 of Dance with the Devil

“Church,” Draven said.

It was the only word he had to say to his driver, and they were being driven away from the strip club.

Maria couldn’t believe this was happening. She couldn’t help but keep glancing at the man at her side. He had thick, black hair. She noticed the wisps of grey dotting each side. He was handsome. She’d heard many people talking about Draven. He’d never been married, but he had earned his place as a respectable capo and was considered one of the closest friends to The Boss.

His name alone brought fear. There were even rumors that to say his name aloud would bring your death. Maria had never tested that. Even now, she didn’t speak. If she did, would he kill her?

Some believed he was the Devil himself. That he had come down to kill, to hunt, to torture. That he looked for his victims in the flesh. Again, it was all whispered rumors and gossip. None of it was true. There was no Devil. Just a man, willing to do whatever it took to protect The Boss, and the land which they had claimed as their own. Their territories.

Maria didn’t know if she was allowed to talk. The rules of her life had now changed. Nothing was certain anymore. She had to learn how to survive.

Maria didn’t know if this was even fair anymore, when she had come to accept that she was going to die. Death would have been so much easier.

Staring out the window, she watched as they passed the city. In the light of day, it always looked beautiful, but it hid the flaws of the life she knew. The death. The greed. The true evil she had come to see that lived all around her.

She couldn’t help but think about Draven, choking that woman. Did it make her a bad person for not caring what he did?

She didn’t know what it made her. All she knew was that she didn’t mind the older woman being choked, and a part of her wanted to see her dead. Locking her fingers together, she gripped them tightly and tried not to think about what kind of person she was for wishing the death of another human being.

****

Draven and Maria were married.

The Boss had told him the location of the church, if he decided to take her as his wife. Maria hadn’t been shaking. He’d walked with her at his side, hands joined together, while the priest said all the necessary jargon to make their union absolute. There was no white wedding dress. Just Maria in his jacket, hiding her naked body.

There were a couple of capos waiting as witnesses, and they were both clearly shocked, but none of them said a word. He waited for them to speak, to piss him off, but they remained silent, which was a good fucking thing. Otherwise, he’d have fucking killed them, and it wouldn’t have been hard to do.

Once the priest announced they were man and wife, he pulled her close and kissed her.

It wasn’t a passionate kiss, just two lips meeting to satisfy the union, and then he was about to leave when Lee, one of the capos who was happily married with three kids, approached.

“The Boss wants the sheets hand-delivered to him tomorrow. He also expects to see Maria there as well.”

A folded piece of paper was handed to him. He didn’t say a word but grabbed his wife and walked her back out to the car. Before he closed the door, he opened the paper to see the address. It was for a restaurant.

Draven didn’t believe the tradition of the bloody sheets would happen. He had a horrible feeling that if Maria wasn’t a virgin, this union would be null and void.

Sitting back, he told the driver to take him to his home. He didn’t go to his city apartment, but instead made his way through the country, to his home.

He didn’t understand what The Boss’s game was. If he wanted to kill Maria, then he should have done so and not created this elaborate game. Draven believed in cruelty, but there were limits to what he was willing to accept, and this level of cruelty was a whole new kind of ball game to him. Running a hand down his face, he tightened the piece of paper into a ball and shoved it in his pocket. He’d get rid of it once they returned home.

Every now and then, he kept checking on his wife.

Wife.

He never planned to have a wife, let alone someone with a whole load of baggage. He knew this would create a sweep of new gossip for each capo to talk about. He didn’t give a shit about the rumors that often spread about him. Most of them were fucked-up lies and didn’t mean anything to him. But staring at Maria, he had to wonder what the end game was.

The journey to his home took a good hour. He didn’t wait for the driver to open the door. He climbed out, holding out his hand for his wife to take. She shook a little, but he didn’t have time to baby her. He helped her out of the car, then realized they were on fucking stones. Most of his driveway was covered in tiny pebbles.

Maria let out a cry as he lifted her into his arms and carried her across his driveway, toward the front door. He didn’t let her go until they were over the threshold. The moment they were and the door closed, he put her on her feet.

Draven had limited staff. Calvin, one of his men, who only had one arm, came rushing toward him.

“I am so sorry, sir,” he said.

“Don’t be. Meet Maria, she’s going to be living here from now on. She’s my wife.” Even though he had yet to find a ring to slide on her finger. The priest had been pretty pissed off that there hadn’t been any rings.

The two capos who’d been there had shown their guns, and all annoyance had vanished from the priest and he carried on with the service.

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