The Devil’s Plaything: A Dark Mafia Romance

by René, Dani

  “Have you left?” His voice is low, a rumble that reminds me of just how much trouble I will be in if I’m caught.

  He sighs in relief when I tell him, “I am. Almost out of the city.”

  “Good. I’ll call you at nine, please be safe.” He hangs up once more, leaving me in the darkness with my vivid imagination and my racing heart. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I make my way onto the road and head north.

  It’s quieter here. With the silence, I have time to think about my life, my future. I’m not sure where I’ll end up, but in a way, I suppose I’ll be safe. All this time I’ve wanted to leave Colombia, and now that I can, I’ve never wanted to stay more, but that’s the sadness holding me in its feral grip, reminding me of all I’ve lost and what I still stand to lose.

  * * *

  The sun is already high by the time I reach the empty road. The small backpack feels heavier than it is. Perhaps it’s the anxiety that’s coiling in my gut or the fear that’s riddling itself through my veins.

  Sadness has clouded my mind like a drug tracing its way through me with every mile I get away from where my father is. Deep down, I know he’s still alive. What state he’s in is a mystery, but I doubt Victor would kill him if he wants me to play along with his cat and mouse game.

  The loud bass of a sound system vibrates through me when a black SUV pulls up beside me. I don’t stop, I continue my steps through the dust, but the car follows alongside me. The window slides down, and the man inside looks at me, his dark shades covering his eyes, but I can feel the heat of his stare.

  “Hola pequeña niña,” he utters in a thick accent that is almost husky with the way his voice sounds when he calls me little girl.

  “Yeah?” I respond in English, attempting not to show my origin, even though my lifelong accent is unmistakable.

  “¿A dónde vas?” he asks where I’m going, but fear settles in the pit of my stomach at his question. He lifts his sunglasses, peering at me with curiosity, and I’m not sure what to say.

  Where am I going?

  My gaze flits to the road ahead; there’s nothing in front of me, only deserted shacks. I can’t run, I have no way of getting away from this man in his SUV.

  “I’m fine. I don’t need a lift.” I tell him, but I know that’s not what he asked or even said. I stalk my way forward, but he follows. My god, the car is right beside me, and I know I’m caught. This is not some random stranger. This man is going to take me to my fate. I cast a glance along the road, even though there are cars coming toward me, I know that they won’t help if I screamed or pleaded with them for assistance.

  Nobody would attempt to anger Victor. And the stranger who’s peering at me with those dark, brooding eyes is here to deliver me to the Devil on a silver platter, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  “I’ll give you a lift,” he tells me, and I hear the click of the locks. “You can’t run, mami.” He smirks, as if reading my mind. “I find everything I’m hired to. I deliver what my clients want.” I know he does.

  “Quién eres tú?” I finally turn to face him fully, still not getting in the car, but asking who he is. Surely if he’s here to take me to Victor, he can offer me his name.

  The corner of his mouth lifts into a dark grin. “Curiosity killed the cat, mami,” he says, and the dangerous aura surrounding him is stifling.

  I want to run, and he knows it. I’m sweating, my skin is sticky, and I’m feeling dizzy from the intense heat. My energy levels are running low, and I know if I attempt to get away from him, he’ll not only catch me, but he could hurt me as well. Working for Victor, he must be a killer.

  “He asked you to collect me.” It’s not a question, but he nods. My worst fear has come true. My phone chimes in my pocket, and I realize it can only be one of two people. Pulling out the device, I find the unknown number glaring at me. It’s him.

  “What?” I answer, pressing the phone to my ear.

  “Ah, Sofía.” Victor’s deep voice comes from the other end of the line. “I trust my man has made contact with you?”

  “He has.”

  “He’s tasked to bring you back to me. If you give him any problems, he’s ordered to force your hand. I trust you don’t want that. Do you, juguete?”

  “I’m no fucking toy. If you want me, I’ll come willingly, pay off my father’s debt to you so you can release him.”

  He chuckles darkly over the speaker. The sound is utterly devastating, and I know I’m making a deal with the Devil. “I don’t make deals with little girls, but you, my sweet, will be a rather tempting plaything to toy with. Come. We will talk in person.” He hangs up, and I meet the eyes of my kidnapper. The man who’s going to take me to Victor, who will either torture me until my father begs for my release, or he’ll want something else from me, the one thing I haven’t given to anyone else. I tried, papá, but I just couldn’t make it. I was too slow, and the fading of my energy makes sure I get into the air-conditioned SUV without a fight.

  If I can save my father, I’ll do it.

  “Take me to your boss,” I instruct the driver.

  9

  Victor

  The office is quiet when I stalk inside. The call that came moments ago informed me that Díago has found my payment. The young girl, who will soon be my prisoner, is in his grasp. God, I can’t wait to lay eyes on her.

  Her feistiness has an effect on me, and I can’t wait until I have her within my compound, inside my home, so I can do as I wish with her. She’s going to pay for her father’s sins, but also, I want her to bow to me. She’s offered herself up as the prey, a payment for her father’s sins. And what she doesn’t know is how much I love the hunt.

  I should’ve gone out and hunted her down myself, but the anticipation of seeing her enter with Díago has me calm and at the ready. There’s nothing more I enjoy than chasing a beautiful woman, pinning her to the floor, and making her scream my name. A knock at my door sounds as I settle into my chair, dragging me from the thoughts of my newest toy.

  “Come.”

  When it slides open, I’m met with Javier’s brother, Alejandro. He’s the youngest of the two at only nineteen. He looks just like his older brother when he smiles, but there’s a long scar that runs from beneath his left eye down to his upper lip.

  “What is it, Alejandro?”

  “There’s a car that’s pulled up. A man, Díago, said you’re expecting something.” He offers a small bow as he tells me this—a sign of respect for me being the leader of the organization. Being his boss, I have authority over him and his life.

  Power is something I’ve come to crave, the need of having people answer to me as always races through my veins. It’s in my blood. As a child, I’d always lorded over the other kids I grew up with, but now, as an adult, the need has only intensified. Waving my hand, I gesture for him to open the door fully. Now I’ll be able to use that same power over my newest acquisition, the payment that I’m afforded because Hector chose to steal from me.

  “Tell him to bring her in through the basement. Put her in one of the cells, I’ll be there in a few moments.” My order earns me a respectful nod before he leaves me alone to mull over how I’m going to introduce myself to the fiery woman who’s come into my home, into my possession.

  I never knew her mother, Hector’s wife, but something tells me she’s a beauty. Her father hid her away from the compound all the years he’s worked here. Most men bring their kids to work, but Hector never did. And that’s one of the reasons I know she will be worth the wait.

  Rising from my seat, I button my suit jacket and head out to the hallway that is decked in dark reds and auburns. The deep brown of the walls makes the place feel ancient, and it is.

  The Merlot-colored carpet takes me all the way through the house, until I reach the sweeping staircase that leads me down to the foyer. Once there, I turn left and make my way toward the kitchen, where the hidden door to the basement is waiting for me.

  The house is sile
nt. Nobody is inside because of the hot summer weather. I’m not completely evil, my staff gets time off, especially since I have a new toy to play with. The anticipation burns through my veins, reminding me that it’s been a while since I’ve had a woman in my home who hasn’t been paid to be here. And I’d love to feel this sweet virgin tightening around my shaft as I make her come.

  Once the heavy door slides closed behind me, I meet two of my men standing on either side of the wide steps. They only offer a nod as I pass by. Each step lowers me into the dimly lit space, and there are soft whimpers that trickle up toward me, which make my cock harder.

  I may be a fucked-up asshole, but the thought of hearing her cry is the only thing that makes me smile. I should really make sure my expression is serious, but I can’t find it in me to do that, because as soon as I turn the corner and find Díago and Alejandro standing outside one of the cells, my gaze falls on her, and a smirk curls my lips.

  “What the fuck is this?” she spits angrily. Her face is contorted in anguish, and her caramel skin is flushed and glistening. She must’ve been out in the sun because she’s sweaty; I can tell by the dark circles of her tank top under her arms.

  “And this is the beautiful Sofía?” I question, nearing her. Her tiny hands grip the bars, her knuckles turning white as she holds onto the metal. Her eyes—the color of the greenest grass I’ve ever seen—are wide with shock and anger.

  “You promised that if I turned myself in—”

  “I assured you that you’d be safe, and you are.” I wave my hand over her from head to toe. “You’re alive. Aren’t you?” I keep my voice schooled, but I note the huskiness that’s taken over my words.

  “Where’s my father?” she asks, her voice cracking on the last word. Her pain is palpable, only serving to make me even harder than I was before I laid my eyes on her. She’s fucking beautiful. Exquisite. Her long dark hair is tied into a cocoa-colored ponytail at the back of her head with fine tendrils that frame her heart shaped face. Her large green eyes are still wide, and they shine with unshed tears as she regards me. A small button nose sits above two pouty pink lips.

  Her body is encased in filthy clothes, and I wonder if that’s from making a run for it, or if she just didn’t have time to change before she left the music store. When I walked into the shop earlier, wanting the piano, I didn’t realize it was her working there. I’d already been enamored by her beauty, and now I have her at my beck and call.

  “I know you,” she says, as I step closer, and the light hits my face. “You’re… you were in the store.” Her recognition turns her cheeks a soft rosy pink. I know she was attracted to me because I noticed her breathing turning shallow when I spoke with her.

  “You do. You’re quite the salesperson,” I tell her.

  “Where’s my father?” she asks again, her body shaking violently as I trail my finger over her white knuckled grip on the steel bars. She tugs away as if I’ve burnt her with a live flame. Perhaps I have. But it’s the fire that dances in her eyes which makes me wonder if the beauty would ever crave the beast.

  I tip my head to the side to regard her before answering, “He’s alive.”

  She shakes her head at my response. “I want to see him.”

  Her demand makes me chuckle because I don’t answer to anyone. I’m in charge, and her sassy little mouth is going to get her into trouble. “Do you think I answer to you? I’m the fucking king, and you’re merely a pawn in a game that you could never comprehend, novia.”

  “Please,” she pleads, which makes a groan rumble low in my throat, and I have to cough the sound away to mask it. I would love to hear her begging for something else. Something far more illicit, just to see her thief of a father.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “No!” Her voice carries, bouncing off the dark concrete walls of the basement, which would be best used to hold wine rather than be turned into cells to hold prisoners. Her feistiness and confidence are shining when I turn to regard her and I realize she’s not weak, even though she may be scared. The fire in her eyes makes me want to see her break even more.

  I don’t adhere to commands; I’m the one in control, not her. She has to learn that in my house, under my roof, I make the rules, and she has to obey, or there will be consequences.

  “Today. Mr. Cordero,” she utters my name with the sweetest of voices, which makes me wonder how she’d sound screaming my name. “Please.” Another plea, one that’s turning my blood hot and my cock throbbing for her, and I’m tempted to paint her pretty face with my release.

  I turn to face her fully. “Let me make something clear, juguete,” I start, holding my hands behind me as I stalk closer to the cell, and as soon as I do, the scent of her perfume, even in this shit hole, smells like jasmine blossoms. Fuck. “I don’t take demands from little girls, and if they try to force my hand, I will make them bleed all over my cock. You will see your father when I say so, not when you demand it.”

  She balks at my words, and I know she’s afraid her father is dead. I may be the Devil, but I’m not a monster. The corner of my mouth lifts slightly as I offer her a smile, which she doesn’t return.

  “But since you’ve pleased me by coming of your own free will—”

  “My own free will?” she retorts, causing me to lift a brow at her in question. “I mean… I just… I don’t want to be here, but for my father, I’ll do anything.”

  Tipping my head to the side, I watch her before asking, “Anything?”

  She waits a beat before nodding. “Anything.”

  “That’s a rather bold statement for a little girl who doesn’t know who she’s getting into bed with… so to speak.” I tack on the last three words because I notice her mouth fall open in shock at my choice of words.

  “I just want my father safe. I can handle anything you throw at me.” She puts on a brave appearance, for a girl her age – one who’s walked straight into the wolf’s den, giving herself over as a sacrificial lamb for slaughter. “I’ve heard stories about you and I’m not afraid.” Even though she says she isn’t, I know she is. She’s trembling, her fingers are slipping on the metal while her chin wobbles. Her lower lip juts out, and I can’t stop the image of her swallowing my dick from racing through my mind.

  “I’m sure you’re not afraid, but that would be stupid, juguete,” I smirk. Knowing she doesn’t like the name by her reaction, I offer her a smile. A grin.

  “Perhaps I’m stupid then, diablo,” she retorts hotly, making me chuckle out loud. There’s a strength in this girl, and I can’t wait to see her soften. Because make no mistake, I will break her.

  Nodding, I lean in closer, meeting her wide green eyes. “Then it’s time for you to meet the real me, Sofía.” I turn and walk away. “Oh, and by the way,” I cast a glance over my shoulder, “when you learn to respect me, you can sleep in a real bed.” Turning my stare to Díago and Alejandro, I order, “Come.” And they obey without question.

  Stalking up the stairs, I listen to her screams, the curses being spewed my way, and it only makes me laugh even more.

  10

  Sofía

  It’s cold. So, so cold. I no longer have the warmth of the bed I slept in last night, and I no longer have my phone, so I’m stuck in this cell alone with nothing but the sliver of the moon shining through the small rectangular hole in the wall.

  Seeing Victor Cordero in the flesh wasn’t what I was expecting. In my mind, I’d made him out to be a wretched man with fangs for teeth and horns popping out of his head. Like a Satan himself, but he wasn’t. The person who stood almost six foot five with broad shoulders towered over the other two men who’d accompanied him.

  His dark hair, tousled and messy, matched the stubble that lined his angular jaw. His olive skin looked warm, and I found myself wanting to touch it. His sharp features looked sculpted from the most beautiful marble. His eyes, though, that’s what caught my breath, as the color of shimmering gold met my glare.

  He’s handsome.


  He’s violent.

  He’s evil.

  And I realize in that moment, I’ve become the Devil’s Plaything. The moment he looked into my eyes I knew I was fucked. I’m not sure how such evil can be so beautiful, but he’s the walking conjuncture of the two. As a child, I learned that bad things weren’t nice, they weren’t pretty, but he certainly breaks the mold.

  He had venom on his tongue as he spoke, and I know what he has in store for me. He wants me in his bed, but that’s not something I am willing to give him, but I’m certain that he’ll take it anyway. He isn’t a man who asks, he commands, and he’s going to attempt to steal my soul before he robs me of my life.

  I think back to the store, when Victor walked in to ask for my boss. I didn’t know who he was in that moment, and I found myself attracted to him. Now, I know his name, and I hate him all the more.

  Can a name change so much of a person?

  Can his reputation be as dark as people say?

  Yes. Yes, to both questions.

  Shaking my head, I settle on the small blanket that sits in the corner of the cell. Pulling my knees up to my chin, I wrap my arms around my legs and close my eyes. But each time I do, it’s only him I see.

  It was my choice to come back, to allow the man in the SUV to bring me to Victor so I could bargain with him. To save my father, I’ve given myself over to the most dangerous man in Colombia, and there’s nothing I can do to change it now. He owns me. I’m his toy, and I know he’ll do anything to make sure I obey.

  I can’t believe papá did it. He stole from one of the most ruthless men in our country, and he knew what he was doing. He did it for me, but it doesn’t make it right. I never wanted him to become a thief to save me.

  In an attempt to calm my sadness and frustration, I rock side to side gently, singing something that I recall from the store. The lyrics that leave my lips are merely a whisper, but I close my eyes and get lost in them for a moment, because it’s the only solace I have right now because being a prisoner is gently chipping away at me.