Page 93 of Brutal Devil

Those bastards left me here in the safe house on my own.

“Saint?” I call out just to be sure. “Priest?”

Crickets.

“Shit,” I mutter, last night’s anxiety eagerly crowding in.

I take a deep breath and then exhale, willing it to abate. I can do this. I can distract myself and keep calm. When Priest shows back up, he’s going to get an earful from me.

Ifhe shows back up.

A shiver goes down my spine at the thought. Because, like it or not, I’ve become rather fond of that arrogant, sexy gangster. And whatever he’s facing in the outside world, I know it must be dangerous.

Swallowing hard against a rush of emotion I don’t want to feel, I make myself an espresso, grab a pastry from the refrigerator—thank you,ZiaMaria—and settle in with my pens and notebooks.

It feels like a lifetime has passed since I last wrote a poem, and the words are burning up inside me, a fever I need to get out.

Priest

I should have known that Amedeo the Animal was going to be fucking trouble.

He’s smoking a cigar, flanked by his number two and number three—Little Sal and Jimmy Greco, both notorious goons, a glass of whiskey untouched at his elbow. He was three hours late showing up for this meeting, and I know exactly why.

The prick is trying to put on a show of power.

“We’ve been talking, Squeaky and I, along with some of the other capos,” Amedeo says. “And we’ve all come to the agreement that, as I’m the senior blood member of the Revello family, Club Venere should be mine.”

His statement doesn’t surprise me. He’s spent the last twenty minutes tap-dancing around the subject like some poor man’s Fred Astaire. But this piece of shit can play all the games he wants. The outcome’s going to be the same.

I pin him with a look that ought to have him quaking in his fucking loafers. “Club Venere belongs to my wife.”

Amedeo flashes me a smug grin and takes his time puffing on the fat cigar, filling the air around him with a cloud of thick smoke. “It isn’t that simple.”

I clench my jaw. “Yes, it is. Club Venere is part of Tomasso Revello’s holdings. Luna Revello Andriani is his sole living heir. I’ve had my lawyer take a look at the will. It’s airtight.”

“Cousin Luna,” Amedeo drawls, lingering on her name in a way that makes me want to punch him in the face. “How is she, by the way? It’s been a while since anyone has seen her. Not since the wedding, from what I hear. The family is worried about her.”

“Keep my wife’s name out of your mouth,” I growl, not amused by his tactics. “Luna is as well as can be expected, given the loss of her father and the way it went down—Tomasso getting clipped in her arms.”

I hope my stare is boring all the way into this bastard’s soul. Because if I had to put my money on the Russians being behind Tomasso Revello’s murder or Amedeo the Animal, it would be the ugly fucker looking me in the eye from across the table right now. Every. Damn. Time.

“It was rough, what happened to her,” Amedeo agrees without a hint of sympathy. “All that blood on her pretty wedding dress.” He pauses to inhale his cigar, then slowly exhale. “Could’ve been worse, though. Could’ve been her too.”

There’s a thinly veiled threat in his words.

Unlike our last meeting, I’m armed. So are my brothers and the other soldiers we’ve brought with us.

I discreetly move the lapel of my suit jacket, allowing it to fall open just enough that my piece is visible. “I don’t think anyone would dare to fuck with what’s mine.”

“That why you’re keeping her locked away?” Amedeo wants to know. “Look, Don Andriani, I’ll cut to the chase. Some of the family have come to me after our meeting, and they have concerns. Legitimate concerns.”

My shoulders tense. I expected opposition, but not already. Not with the families so newly joined.

“What are they?” I ask.

“This club, for one thing. What does a pretty little thing who’s spent the last few years in the Midwest getting some kind of goody-two-shoes degree know about running a business like this? She’s not going to want to get her hands dirty, and you and I both know there are enough drugs running through here to supply half the city.”

I force a calm smile. “Naturally, my wife will be otherwise occupied. She’s entrusted me and my brothers with the daily operations of the club.”