Devil You Know: A Dark Mafia Enemies to Lovers Romance (The Diavolo Crime Family Book 2)

by J. L. Beck

  Copyright © 2020 by Beck & Hallman LLC

  Publisher: Bleeding Heart Press

  Editing by Kelly Allenby

  Proofreading by Paula Dawn

  Cover design by C. Hallman

  Cover Image by Wander Aguiar

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  1. Nic

  2. Celia

  3. Nic

  4. Celia

  5. Nic

  6. Celia

  7. Nic

  8. Celia

  9. Nic

  10. Celia

  11. Nic

  12. Celia

  13. Nic

  14. Celia

  15. Nic

  16. Celia

  17. Nic

  18. Celia

  19. Nic

  20. Celia

  21. Nic

  22. Celia

  23. Nic

  24. Celia

  25. Nic

  26. Celia

  27. Nic

  28. Celia

  Epilogue

  Black Heart Romance

  About the Authors

  Also by the Authors

  FREEBIES

  1

  Nic

  My father used to say: a man doesn’t wait around for what he wants, he goes out, and he takes it. An ideology I live my life by. When I want power, I create it. When I want money, I get it. When I want revenge… nothing will stand in my way.

  Doubt has no place in my life. So why is it creeping up my spine like a fucking disease today? Why is the idea of handing Celia over to the man who bought her turning my stomach?

  There is an invisible rope wrapped around my neck, and with every inch I move further away from Celia, that rope tightens, strangling me. I step into a side hallway to collect my thoughts and catch my breath. The rope refuses to loosen, no matter how much I reason with myself.

  Every second I waver is uncertain. And uncertainty gets you killed.

  I square my shoulders and head off to find Soo. He’s handling the money; he can also handle Celia’s transfer. I’m not sure I could go through with it if I was the one that had to do it. Call me a coward, but I couldn’t follow through with this if I saw her face again.

  Most of the bidders are still crowding around the main warehouse space. The heavy tang of cigar smoke coats the air so thick you can taste it. Tucked in the back of the room is a glass window. On the other side of that is the room where Soo waits and watches for someone to do something stupid. When I enter, he’s at his terminal, set against the wall to the right of the doorway, watching the cameras, monitoring every angle.

  I step inside his sanctum and lean against his desk. “You handle the transfer?”

  Soo nods. “I’ve just finalized payment. All that remains is the physical exchange.”

  His long fingers stroke over the keyboard as he finishes typing the sales sheet, then he stands, walks across the room, and grabs a mound of silver chains from the floor. On one end is a spiked choke collar made for a dog. Acid rises up my throat, burning me from the inside out.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  Soo shrugs, shouldering the chains. They clank together, and the sound grates on my already frayed nerves. “The buyer requested her to wear these, and only these, when I hand her over to him.”

  The sounds of the crowd narrow to the clink of those chains. Each individual link swaying over his arm.

  I allow myself a flash of what they would look like draped over her naked skin, the collar around her slender neck, and white-hot rage pricks at me. The chains must weigh twenty pounds at least. Not only would they bruise her delicate skin, but they would be heavy and hard for her to manage.

  Causing my princess discomfort isn’t something I shy from. But there’s a difference between cruelty and control. Dominance and depravity.

  I’m selling her to some dickhole who will use her body until it breaks and then throw her away. I knew this… I knew that her fate was sealed. Fuck! I sealed it myself. I prepared myself for this, promising that I wouldn’t falter. But knowing something will happen and being in that moment are two different things.

  I thought I could push my feelings aside for my revenge. I thought I could ignore my conscience and forget she ever existed. Instead, I feel like I’m being torn apart, my insides shredded into a million pieces. There is a gaping hole in my chest, bleeding me dry, and there’s only one way to stop the bleeding.

  “Put the chains down, Soo. You won’t touch her with them.”

  Soo drops the chains without a word. They hit the floor with a dull thud. He doesn’t get the chance to ask questions because I’m already marching to the office where we stashed her to wait.

  Doubt has no place in my life. So, I’ll cut it out and take Celia home where she belongs, with me.

  Once the decision is made in my mind, it lifts an invisible weight off my shoulders. I know I made the right choice, and if any man dares to touch her, I’ll rip off his hands and cut them into tiny pieces before feeding them to him bit by bit. Celia is mine, and I’m going to make it crystal fucking clear to her and everyone else from now on.

  With each step I take, the clench of my jaw loosens, and the grinding of my teeth stops altogether. Her buyer better stay the fuck out of my way, or he’ll be the first one to die tonight.

  My insides are a twisted mess by the time I reach the door to the office. I do my best to mask my features. I don’t want her to know that she’s gotten to me, not even a little bit.

  Taking the brass doorknob in my hand, I twist and find it locked. I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course, my minx is doing everything possible to stop the sale from going through. Little does she know she’s not going home with anyone but me. I jiggle the handle, and with a heavy exhale, I dig into my pocket for the key. The seconds it takes to unlock the door are too long. With more effort than necessary, I shove it open and immediately seek the sheen of her dark hair, the tight curve of her waist, the creamy pale skin I want to taste.

  The noise from the crowd makes it hard to hear, so I step further into the room, scanning every corner and exit. The hair on the back of my neck rises when I realize she’s not here. She’s not in the fucking room.

  Celia fucking escaped. Again. I clench my jaw, adding to the ache there, doing another scan to be sure she’s not hiding somewhere.

  The room is empty. My anger toward her rises with every single second that passes. The moment I find her, I’m going to take it out on her pretty little ass. She won’t be able to walk for a fucking week, especially not once I have her tied to the bed.

  Soo enters the room behind me, pausing mid-motion, taking in the empty room as well. “Did you already move her?”

  Jaw clenched, I reply, “No, I fucking didn’t.”

  There are no windows and only one other entrance across the space we mostly use for storage. Technically, it’s an office, but there’s only a desk, a small lamp, and boxes of alcohol brought in for the auction.

  Soo marches across the room to the other door, throws it open, and pokes his head out. “I’d be pretty impressed if she got out of here on her own. To get past that crowd, and me, with no one seeing a thing. It’s very unlikely.”

  I peer around the room again. “You think
she had help? Or that someone helped themselves?”

  He doesn’t answer, just slips into the hall, probably returning to his computer to bring up the video feeds throughout the warehouse. We keep the inside, and the outside, covered. There are very few blind spots in this place.

  I head out the door nearest me, cutting through the throng of men. I don’t make it far before a small tan man grabs my arm.

  With a jerk, I pull my arm back and turn, taking a step toward him. “Excuse me,” I growl, barely hanging onto my control.

  The noise of these men is too much, the clinking of glasses, the smoke, all of it is more than I can take while I’m imagining someone else with their hands on what’s mine.

  “Mr. Diavolo, you have something that belongs to me. I’d like to take her home now.”

  I stare down at the man and recognize him as the one who bought Celia. The one who wants to clothe her in chains.

  I narrow my gaze, questioning the man, “Are you sure she belongs to you?”

  His bushy eyebrows pop up at such an accusation. “I don’t appreciate your game, sir. I wish to leave.”

  I wave at the door to the warehouse. I’m losing my mind, losing it all because a beautiful fucking woman wove her way into my black soul. “Then go.”

  The men around me continue on with their charades, laughing and tipping back bourbon. Drinking on my dollar. Anger flares, threatening to burn me to the ground if I don’t extinguish it. The problem is, I don’t care if I burn or if I burn the entire world down with me. Not if I can’t find her. Raising my voice above the crowd, I yell, “All of you, get the fuck out.”

  Soo rushes to my side, whispering in my ear. “We’ll find her. Calm down. You’re going to blow everything up in our faces.”

  “Don’t tell me to fucking calm down and don’t tell me what to fucking do. I’m in charge here.”

  Soo turns to the crowd, stepping between me and the man that bought Celia. “Thank you all for coming. We are wrapping up early tonight. Please finish your drinks and head to your vehicles.”

  “Not without my property,” Celia’s buyer growls.

  I take a threatening step forward, ready to bash his little brains into the side of a crate, when Soo once again interferes. “Go back to my office. I’ll handle this.”

  “You better because you don’t want to know what’s going to happen if I do.”

  It takes everything within me to simply clench my fists and not batter my best friend for getting in my way. Sensing my behavior and rage, Soo adds, “If you want to go head-to-head, we can, but not until I clear this place out.”

  Instead of answering, I spin on my heels and go back to his office. On the way, I throw a half-empty bottle of bourbon against a stack of crates. It shatters satisfyingly, barely curbing my rage, causing those around it to skitter away from the glass and me.

  The destruction doesn’t help as I walk into the office. A storm is raging inside my head, in my chest. She’s already escaped once, so I wouldn’t put it past her to leave again. But Soo is also right. There’s no way she walked out of here without help or coercion. Celia is smart, but I seriously doubt she’d be able to pull this off on her own. So, the question remains, did she get help, or was she stolen?

  Both thoughts send me into another tailspin of anger. Clenching my fists, I press them into Soo’s countertop, letting the cold from the stone sink into my skin. Of course, it doesn’t help. I just need a minute to rein in the heat coating my bones, the need to destroy, to burn, to kill anyone standing between her and me.

  The noise of the crowd is dimming, and the air stirs behind me as Soo enters.

  “What the hell was that?” he demands, his tone hard.

  He’s the only man in the world who can speak to me like that, but he better tread lightly because I’m still on the edge of slamming his head into the granite beneath my hands.

  “I think someone took her. Despite how angry she is at me or how much she hates me, I doubt she’d have been able to escape on her own.”

  The click of Soo’s keyboard keys garners my attention. He’s pulled up the cameras from every angle, and his eyes glide between each one, inspecting them for any clues. “I don’t see her in any of these frames.”

  I move behind him and stare at the screen, hunting for a flash of red, her glossy dark hair, anything, but I see nothing but rich assholes drinking too much. Even on the outside camera feed, there is nothing.

  “Where the fuck did she go? How could someone steal her without us noticing?”

  Soo’s brow furrows, his wheels spinning. “No one could unless they know where our cameras are.”

  I jab at the keyboard. “Pull it all up, everything we have from your arrival until right this fucking moment.”

  Soo’s fingers move quickly, loading the monitors with every camera angle. At least a dozen of them. “You know we don’t have time for this. The five families should know by now that we were auctioning one of theirs off. They will probably act swiftly. Maybe even make a move tonight, a possible emergency meeting. We need to focus on them, watch and be prepared to strike at any moment.”

  His words cut through some of the fog in my brain. “I need to find her.”

  “You won’t get another chance like this,” Soo reminds me cautiously.

  The rage boils over. Of course, he is right, but I can’t seem to care. “Do I look like I give a shit right now? I want you to fucking find her! I want you to stop trying to manage my rage. If I want to kill someone, I will, and nothing you say will stop me.”

  Before I take a swipe at the computers helping us, I pound my fist into the doorframe. The solid wood doesn’t give, and pain shoots up my arm from the contact. I let myself breathe it in, assimilate it, allow it to beat back the monster. I’m not calm, but I’m not in danger of killing Soo, which is the point of my bruised knuckles.

  The doubt I’ve been fighting creeps back in under my defenses, wiggling through the resolve I’ve latched on to. What if I can’t find her? What if the person who stole her is closer than I think? If someone can slip her out without either of us seeing, without even registering on the cameras, then they work on the inside of my organization, or they’ve been watching us for a long time. The idea of someone who works alongside me betraying me, stealing what is mine, intensifies my rage.

  “Find her, Soo,” I grate, staring down at the blood welling across the already purple ridges of my knuckles.

  As I expect, he says nothing but continues typing at a furious pace while his eyes track across the six monitors mounted above his desk.

  When the ticks stop, I swing around and study the screens. “What is it?”

  Soo points to one screen, where a white van is parked near the back exit. It’s usually locked during events, so people can’t sneak in behind us. A figure dressed in black, hood up, exits the van and walks right in the back door.

  I rush out into the main warehouse and charge toward the door. It’s closed, and when I shove it open, it glides outward and slams into the wall behind with a heavy thump.

  “Motherfucker.”

  Soo peeks out the door from beside me. “I take it you didn’t unlock it.”

  “No, you?”

  He shakes his head and goes back to his terminal. I follow and watch as he fast forwards through the feed. A little while after the van parks, a figure exits the building with a large black bag slung over his shoulder. He loads the bag into the back of the van and slams the door. Then goes around to the driver’s side, climbs in, and pulls away.

  “What time did he arrive?” I point to the monitor of the driveway up to the warehouse.

  Soo patters on his keys some more and loads the van arriving. It was right as the auction started. The bastard saw the event, decided not to bid, and then stole her right from under our noses.

  I spin and take another shot at the doorframe. My knuckles scream, the pain once again cuts through some of my rage.

  “Figure out who he is,” I order.

>   Soo says nothing, already working his magic. He types furiously, and I wait, the time ticking through me a second at a time. Each amping me higher and higher.

  When he stops again, I turn and focus on the screens. One image fills all six screens. It’s an angled shot of the van, arriving at the event, through the windshield. It’s dark. The face and head of the man are concealed, but his hands, gripping the wheel, are bare. He must have put gloves on before he entered the building. It’s obvious he was trying to cover his tracks.

  But there’s no hiding what I see on his right hand. Clear as day, perched at noon on the steering wheel, is the word ‘hate’ tattooed across his knuckles. All-consuming dread fills my stomach. While anyone on Earth could have a tattoo like that, I know of only one man.

  The one man who’s been missing through this entire operation.

  Fucking Lucas.

  2

  Celia

  My head aches. It’s the kind of ache you get from being out all night making indecent decisions. The pain radiates from the back of my skull forward like some macabre crown. It wreathes my senses.

  I blink my eyes open to stare at a high, white ceiling with delicate crown molding skirting the edges. It’s dark, but there’s light filtering from my left, like a lamp that was left on in another room.

  I let my eyes flutter closed and drift into a middle space, a dreamy place where the pain ebbs and flows instead of being in a constant state. When I open my eyes again, I shift to the side, pressing my face into a soft white pillow. I lift my head and peer down at the sheets underneath me, they’re white, and the blanket at my feet is a deep navy. I sit up and look around the room, trying to make out what little I can through the dim light leaking in.