The Devil I Don't Know

by LK Shaw

  Brenna’s gaze dances around the kitchen before meeting mine. It travels quickly down my body, pausing at my semi-hardness. Her eyes widen and then they dart away and over to the bar stool tucked under the kitchen island. She hesitates, but takes a seat.

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “I can get it.” She starts to rise, but I motion her back.

  “Sit. Let me.” I top mine off and pour her a cup and set it in front of her. “Sorry, but I only have milk.”

  “It’s fine, thank you,” she says, pouring in a generous amount.

  “One of our families owns a restaurant not far from here, so breakfast should arrive soon. I wasn’t sure what you like, so I ordered a little of everything.”

  “Thank you. I’m not picky.”

  “Excellent. I have a few things to take care of today. Giovanni has been assigned to you. Please allow him to escort you if you need to leave the house for any reason.”

  Brenna’s forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean assigned to me? I’m perfectly capable of going somewhere by myself. I’ve never needed a guard before.”

  “That may have been the case in the past, but I rule over every family on the East Coast. I’m a man with many enemies, and you are my wife. Which means you always need to be protected.”

  Her want for communication is not an unreasonable one, but there are also things that she has no need to know. It’s not necessary for her to know that some of the enemies may be within my own family. That’s why Giovanni will make sure she remains safe. Pierce assures me that he’s trustworthy.

  “Fine.” It’s obvious she’s not happy with the idea.

  “Thank you for not fighting me on this.”

  “Would it have done me any good?” She studies me.

  “No,” I answer. “I’m a reasonable man, but my word is also law. I’m sure it’s no different than your own family.”

  “Probably not. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  Fair enough. The intercom phone rings.

  “Yes?” Pause. “Send him up.”

  I move toward the living room.

  “Maybe I should be the one to answer the door,” Brenna says.

  I turn with a questioning look on my face. Her gaze is somewhere over my right shoulder, but she gestures up and down my body with her finger. I glance down at myself and then back up before winking at my blushing wife. “I hardly think I’ll scandalize anyone. Well,”—I smirk—“perhaps you.”

  Within a minute, the elevator delivers a young man carrying two bags of food.

  “Good morning, Mr. Ricci,” he greets me with a far too enthusiastic smile for this early in the morning. “My father sends his thanks and says to be sure to let him know if you need anything else.”

  “Please give him my regards, Benito.” I take the bags from him, the scent of bacon and maple syrup filling my nose, and close the door behind me.

  Brenna has already begun setting plates on the island. She glances at every dish I pull out. Her eyes take on a desperate look. “Oh my god, that smells so good.”

  We eat in silence, aside from the occasional moan of delight, while she samples a little bit of everything. French toast with syrup, bacon, a dab of scrambled eggs with cheese. Every flick of her tongue against her lips nearly hardens my cock, but I mentally force it down and focus on the food in front of me. Finally, we finish our meal.

  “I need to leave soon. After I’m done getting dressed, I’ll call Giovanni. He’ll wait outside and be ready to take you wherever you need to go.”

  “I think I’ll go with you instead.” Brenna’s words stop me.

  Chapter 12

  Brenna

  * * *

  I’ve shocked Jacob. I can tell by the way his brows shoot up and his head jerks back a fraction. He quickly composes himself, and the moment is over. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  His reply shouldn’t surprise me. My job is to be a good wife, which means I stay home, take care of the place, and eventually fade into the background. I don’t want that kind of life. I want—no—I need more. I’d lain awake for ages last night thinking about the conversation with my husband and what I wanted.

  “Do you plan on killing or torturing anyone?” I mimic Jacob’s pose—shoulders straight, arms crossed—and stare back at him.

  He barks out a surprised laugh. “It’s not on the agenda.”

  “So nothing too terribly dangerous?”

  “I don’t suppose so.”

  “I’ve lived my whole life inside a protective bubble. Kept in the dark by my family until I was forced to marry you.”

  Jacob winces at the word forced, but there’s no other word for it. We were both forced.

  “Why is that?” I continue. “Because of some type of alliance? I’d like to know what is so important that I was sacrificed for it. Especially since you left me completely alone on my wedding day. I think it’s only fair.”

  I wait for the explosion. If I spoke to my grandfather this way, I would undoubtedly be severely punished. I shouldn’t hold Jacob’s leaving against him. That is definitely unfair. He didn’t ask for a wife.

  I’m not sure what’s changed inside me between yesterday and today. Was it his promise when we were in my grandfather’s office? Him calling me brave last night? Or maybe the wedding itself was my breaking point. Whatever it is, I can’t go back to being invisible. I won’t.

  Jacob’s body unfolds, and he straightens. It doesn’t matter that he’s standing in only his boxers. He’s just as intimidating nearly-naked as he is in a suit, maybe even more so. I stand my ground, resisting the urge to display any sign of weakness. If this man is a king, then I need to show him I can be a queen.

  “Fine. It might be a good idea to start introducing you to a few of the families. Especially since we denied them a proper wedding invitation.”

  I blink. That’s it? An easy acceptance? No arguing? No fighting? Well, I won’t complain. “Thank you.”

  “If that’s all, I need to get ready. I’ll be down in a little bit. Pierce should be here soon,” Jacob says over his shoulder.

  My gaze follows him until he disappears out of view. I sag with the release of tension I hadn’t noticed I’d been holding onto. The shower starts upstairs, and suddenly I’m imagining my husband naked and recalling how he touched me. Why didn’t he finish what he started? I should feel relief, but there’s something else there. Insecurity. Doesn’t he find me attractive? I shake off the thought and busy myself cleaning up the kitchen.

  Breakfast had been delicious. Nearly as good as my mother’s cooking. It also reminds me that the fridge and pantry are mostly empty. I rifle through the kitchen drawers looking for pen and paper but can’t find either. I’d go upstairs to get my phone, but I don’t want to risk running into Jacob. Especially if he’s naked.

  Mentally, I start making a list of things I need to get at the store some time today. Will Jacob eat at home often or is he the type that goes to restaurants for every meal? What’s his favorite food? I’m determined to get to know my husband. A knock at the door interrupts me before I’m halfway through my mental list. I open it to Pierce on the other side. He’s just as terrifying up close with that skull tattoo, but mostly because his eyes are cold and seem to be filled with rage. I swallow nervously, but slap a smile on my face before stepping back to let him in.

  “Good morning. Jacob is getting ready, but he should be down soon. Can I get you some coffee?” I’ve already dumped out the cold pot, but I’ll make a new one if I have to. I’m doing my best to play the good hostess. I’m sure it’s what my mother would do. Plus I want to get on Pierce’s good side. If he has one, that is.

  He stares at me for several tense seconds, his silence holding judgment and most likely finding me lacking. I ignore the dreadful weight in my gut and maintain eye contact, doing my best to not let him intimidate me. I assume he’s Jacob’s second-in-command, which means his opinion of me is important.

  “No
, thanks,” he finally says and positions himself against the wall, arms crossed, as though that’s the only way he knows how to stand.

  “You must be worried all the buildings you enter are going to come tumbling down around you,” I say for lack of something better.

  Pierce raises an eyebrow. I point in his general direction. “The last time I saw you, you were standing up against a different wall like you were trying to hold it up and keep it from collapsing.”

  He remains silent, his cold eyes locked on me, but I swear his lips twitch, whether in humor or disdain, I’m not sure. Either way, just that tiny movement makes him seem more…human. Thank god Jacob comes down the stairs and saves me from continuing to make a fool out of myself.

  He’s dressed in another perfectly tailored suit. It accentuates his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His tie is completely straight down the middle of his chest, tucked neatly behind his suit jacket. I admit to snooping in his closet yesterday while I was putting my clothes away. Suit after suit was the only thing in there. No doubt they all fit him as well as this one.

  “My wife has decided to join us today.” He looks at me. “If you’re ready?”

  I’m not, but there’s no way I’m passing up this opportunity. “Let me get my purse. I’ll be right back down.”

  I head up the stairs trying not to appear too eager, but not going slow enough that they will get tired of waiting and leave without me. On my way back down, their voices reaches me, but they’re too quiet to make out what’s being said. Jacob’s eyes land on me, and the conversation comes to an abrupt halt.

  I smile like I don’t notice the disapproving glare in Pierce’s gaze. “I’m ready.”

  The heat of my husband’s hand on my lower back spreads through me like an electrical current dancing across a live wire as he leads me to the elevator. This time, his touch doesn’t elicit a flinch. The scent of his cologne surrounds us. My senses feel overloaded. The absence of sound makes it even more so. Since it seems neither man has any intention of filling the silence, that leaves it up to me. Great.

  “Where will we be going today?” I ask as we step out the front door.

  As though he’s been waiting here all night, Giovanni stands at the ready to take us to our destination. He opens the door of the town car and Jacob gestures for me to enter. I scoot over and he slides in next to me, taking up nearly the entire space. Heat radiates from him, warming my entire side pressed up against him. Pierce, with his eyes forward, sits up front, the window between us down. I don’t think it’s my imagination that irritation radiates off him.

  Once we’re all settled, Jacob finally answers. “One of our soldiers was killed a few days ago. I need to check in on his family and make sure they don’t need anything. After that, we’ll be making a stop at my father’s.”

  I’d barely caught a glimpse of my father-in-law at the wedding. My focus had been on making it down the aisle, and he’d left immediately following the ceremony. Francesca said he and Jacob aren’t close. Is he as ruthless as my grandfather? He must be, if he’s the boss of the entire Italian mafia in New York.

  “I’m looking forward to meeting him. We didn’t get a chance to speak yesterday.”

  My husband darts a glance in my direction. He looks like he wants to say something, but then he shifts his attention to the front, leaving a thick silence inside the vehicle. If I weren’t here, what would he and Pierce be discussing?

  Chapter 13

  Jacob

  * * *

  Having a wife tag along with me is not what I expected. I had tried to think of a reasonable excuse for Brenna to remain at the townhouse, but I’d been unable to come up with one. I refuse to admit it’s because I’m curious to learn more about her. She’s also right. She should know why the alliance between our families is so important. How aware is she of what our life in the organization entails?

  “Was it the Russians?” Brenna asks.

  “Excuse me?” I blink at the seeming random question.

  “You said that one of your soldiers was killed, and I was wondering if the Russians had done it.”

  The reminder of Umberto’s death makes my fists clench and a flicker of rage to burn in my gut. He’d been ambushed making a delivery and the bastards had dropped his bloodied body off directly on the doorstep of one of the organization’s businesses.

  “Yes,” I bite out.

  They hadn’t even tried to conceal themselves. The two men had been brazen enough to stare straight into the security cameras. I have their faces memorized, and I will vow to Umberto’s widow and two children that revenge will be swift and merciless.

  “I assume you’re going to find and kill them?” There’s an almost hesitancy to the question.

  From the front seat, Pierce coughs and Giovanni’s gaze leaps to the rear view mirror before returning to the road. I turn to face Brenna. “What do you think I should do to them?”

  Her eyes widen, and there’s an almost panicked expression on her face. If not for the simmer of anger still coursing through me, her innocence would be comical.

  “Have you ever heard of the Lernaean Hydra?” I ask.

  “From Greek mythology? The multi-headed serpentine monster?” Panic shifts to confusion.

  Based on the number of books she brought with her to our home, I’m not surprised by her knowledge. I nod. “The Russians are the Hydra. For every one we kill, two more seem to take his place. Think of me as Hercules. I’ve been tasked with destroying it, and I won’t stop until the final head has been cut from its body and buried forever.”

  “That sounds exhausting,” Brenna says. “I take it my family is Iolaus, then? They’re assisting you with your quest?”

  Fuck if the question didn’t make my cock twitch. Who knew intelligence could be such a turn on? “I’m impressed. Not many people know the full details of the story.”

  Her cheeks flush at the compliment. “I’ve always found Greek mythology fascinating.”

  I curse the fact I’m finding her fascinating. Thank fuck, the town car is coming to a stop in front of the house we are visiting. Pierce and Gio exit the vehicle. The former scans our surroundings, while the latter opens the back door. I step out and turn to assist Brenna. With only the slightest pause, she places her hand in mine. Warmth engulfs my skin, and a spark of static electricity jolts through my fingertips. From the tiny jerk of her arm, my guess is she felt it too.

  I release her once she’s on her feet and the three of us walk toward the modest home, Pierce a few paces behind us. I ring the bell. A child begins to cry inside and pounding footsteps grow louder. The door jerks open, and a young boy around six or seven years of age appears.

  “Giorgio, what did I tell you about answering the door without me?” A woman’s exasperated voice comes from the interior, and the child’s cries are cringe-inducing and getting louder. Carmella, Umberto’s widow, steps around the corner, carrying the wailing infant, and stops at the sight of us. “Oh, Mr. Ricci, I didn’t realize it was you. I’m so sorry.”

  Her eyes dart to Brenna at my side, but quickly return to me as she bounces the baby on her hip, attempting to calm him. There’s a question in her gaze, but she doesn’t voice it. She gives her head a soft shake and places her hand on the young boy’s shoulder, pulling him out of the way. “Please forgive me, come in.”

  She and her son step back and allow us entry.

  “Thank you,” I tell her and then gesture for Brenna to precede me. This is the first time I’ve had to speak with a widow of one of our fallen brothers. I can only imagine how many times my father has had to make this same visit. It’s not a task I will ever get used to.

  Carmella picks several toys off the couch and deposits them in a basket nearby. “I apologize for the mess. Please have a seat.”

  “No apologies necessary,” I assure her.

  Pierce positions himself against the wall while Brenna and I take the sofa. The other woman sits in the recliner opposite us with the baby, who’s fi
nally quieted down, resting in her lap. Giorgio stands next to her, his inquisitive gaze running over the strangers in his home.

  “Carmella, this is my wife,” I belatedly introduce the two.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Ricci.”

  “You as well, and please, call me Brenna. I’m sorry for the loss of your husband. I hope that if there is anything you need that you won’t hesitate to ask.”

  Regardless of her invitation, no one will be calling her Brenna. As my wife, it would be almost an insult to address her so casually. Carmella is aware of that, so she merely nods.

  “My wife is correct. Umberto was a valued family member. The syndicate will provide anything you need. We’ve taken care of the funeral and set up a trust fund for Giorgio and Silvio.”

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Ricci. The only thing I need is for those men to pay for what they did to my Umberto.” Her voice cracks and tears fill her eyes.

  “You have my solemn vow, Carmella, that their punishment will be without mercy. I promise you this.”

  She tugs her son close to her side and smooths back his hair before pressing a kiss to his temple. I’ve done what I came to do, so I rise. Brenna follows behind. “We won’t keep you any longer. In the meantime, if you need anything, someone will get word to me.”

  Carmella stands as well. To my surprise, my wife steps forward and hugs the other woman, who looks like she has no idea what to do. She hesitantly returns it before Brenna steps back. “If you need a friend, you can always call me.”

  Looking a little uncomfortable, she doesn’t quite meet my wife’s gaze. “Thank you, Mrs. Ricci.”

  I nod at her and place my hand on Brenna’s back guiding her toward the front door. Within a minute we’ve settled in the town car again. We barely make it a few blocks before she speaks.

  “Did I do something wrong?” she asks.

  My head swivels in her direction. “What do you mean?”

  “Back there, with Carmella. Things seemed awkward.” She pauses a beat as though thinking. “Actually the awkwardness didn’t begin until I hugged her. Should I not have done that? I mean, she just looked so sad. I wanted her to know she wasn’t alone.”