Page 15 of Brutal Devil

“Still throwing her shoes at the camera?” I ask, unperturbed.

She’ll wear herself out eventually.

She’ll get tired.

Hungry.

Thirsty.

Docile.

That’s when I’ll unlock the door. We’ll talk. She’ll see it my way. Because she won’t have any other choice.

“What’s left of them,” he says.

I lean down, still eating my apple, looking at the monitors. “She break them or what?”

“The heels came off an hour ago. Now she’s got four missiles instead of two.”

Thunk.Something hits the camera trained on the room where I’m keeping her.

“Fuck you, you sadistic motherfucker!” she shouts.

And my dick starts to get hard. Yeah, she’s not wrong about me. Iamsadistic. And I am a motherfucker too.

“Feisty,” I say.

“I’ll chop off your dick in your sleep!” Luna yells before launching a broken heel at the camera.

Fuck, she’s hot when she’s riled.

Maybe I don’t want her docile after all.

Rocco whistles. “The future Mrs. Andriani isn’t a happy camper, boss.”

Mrs. Andriani.For some reason, I like the way that sounds. Onher. I watch her hurling insults and pieces of her shoes at the camera, taking another bite of my apple. Her hair has worked its way out of her messy bun, and it’s hanging down her back. She looks feral and fierce, and the next few weeks are going to be a hell of a lot more interesting than I thought.

I hit the intercom. “Bella, if you don’t stop being violent, I’m going to have to tie you to the bed for our little talk.”

She holds up a severed heel, pointing it toward the camera. “Try it, and I’ll stab you in the eye.”

I release the intercom, chuckling. “This should be interesting.”

Rocco raises a brow. “You want me to send some of the boys in with you?”

“Jesus, Roc. Do I look like I can’t take a five-foot-tall graduate student? What’s she going to do, slit my throat with poetry?”

“’Course not, but you don’t usually tangle with furious banshees.”

“Banshee? You fucking Irish now or what?” I toss the rest of my apple into a nearby trash can, amused.

“Never.” He grins. “I’m too damn good-looking to be one of the O’Rourke crew.”

“Eh, I don’t know about that. You’re all a bunch of ugly fuckers.”

I bust Rocco’s ass all the time; he’s immune to it by now, shrugging a shoulder. “What are you going to do about her?”

He’s back on the subject of Luna, who is continuing to sling verbal abuse and dismembered shoe pieces at the camera. Rocco muted the audio, so we can’t hear her. Which is probably for the best. I’m no lip-reader, but it looks like she’s just mouthed something particularly unkind.