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Nothing and no one is off limits.

“Nice family. Let’s hope nothing happens to them,” I say, humor in my tone. “Good night, Milos.”

We leave Club U4EA and its throbbing EDM music behind.

Maurizio glances down at his watch. “You have the charity dinner.”

“Ah, yes. How could I forget?Dolcezzais waiting for me and she doesn’t even know it yet.”

Both Adagio and Maurizio get in the front of the car while I sit in the back.

The mask comes off.

It rests in my lap as a smirk spreads on my face.

The devil stares back up at me, his red face clenched into a menacing expression. My alter ego that strikes fear in the hearts of millions across the city.

I run my fingers along the curved horns and let out a dark laugh.

Il Diavolo’s reputation goes back decades. He’s almost an urban legend at this point.

No real identity is attached to him.

But just when people thought he was gone in more recent times, he’s returned to wreak havoc like never before. He’s set out to rule the city.

He always gets what he wants. The two of us are the same in that way.

Diavolo will get his control of the city. And I will get the woman that’s long been the object of my desire.

* * *

The timing works out perfectly.

We’re pulling up as the Rise and Thrive charity dinner is beginning. I straighten my tie and step out of the Bentley we’ve driven over. Adagio and Maurizio follow half a pace behind as we enter the Newport Plaza and several staff members bow their heads in deference.

I’m coming up on the banquet hall when I hear the lilt of her beautiful voice.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We thank you for attending the special Rise and Thrive charity dinner tonight,” Portia greets in typical bright and eloquent fashion. She’s such a natural on the mic, so gorgeous on stage, she’s captivating. “We have gathered to celebrate the charitable donation of… of…”

She goes still, her face going blank. She’s staring down at the paper she’s been reading from on the podium as if she can’t believe her eyes.

A grin slants across my mouth.

Perfect timing indeed.

I stroll into the banquet hall, immediately earning glances from members of the confused audience.

“Mr. Rafael Calderone,” she says. Her gaze lands on me from the stage.

I wink at her.

She’s fuming. She’s frazzled. She’s so beautiful even when she’s thrown off that I’d like nothing more than to go up on stage and plant a deep kiss on her.

The awkward pause lasts another few seconds before she finally regains enough composure to finish her introduction.

Cheryl Doyle takes over at the mic, transitioning into more details about tonight’s charity dinner. I’m mentioned to the applause of everyone in the room. I give an enigmatic grin and nod of my head while remaining aloof and unbothered.

I’ve taken my seat at the head table, Adagio and Maurizio on either side of me.