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

by J. L. Beck

  He crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes. “Is that why you’re here, so you can ask me about my health? Next time call and save us both the time.”

  Damnit. He’s so much like his brother. So fucking hardheaded. However, Nic has some temperance to his stubbornness, whereas Lucas would argue the sky is green just because someone else insists it’s blue.

  “You know, I didn’t come here to talk about your numerous issues. I’m here because I have some questions I think you can answer.” I force myself to breathe after I get all the words out.

  Lucas takes so much time to answer. I think he’s about to fling more profanity and waste the time I have left. But he nods once, giving me permission.

  My chest loosens, and I nod heavily. “Tell me about your childhood.”

  “Pass.”

  I jerk back from the vehemence in his tone. “You don’t want to talk about you two as kids at all?”

  “Nope. And if that’s your entire line of questioning, you should just leave now.”

  I don’t bother trying to hide my disappointment. “Well, can you tell me more about what you know about my father and my sister?”

  This gets his attention. He drops his boots from the edge of the coffee table to thump on the floor. “Are you finally understanding what kind of man your father is?”

  “I’m not saying anything. I only asked you a question. What do you know about it? How do you know about it?”

  A cruel smile twists his lips, and something tells me he is enjoying this. Maybe not my pain directly, but dismantling any fantasy I might harbor involving my father. “Soo, as you are well aware by now, keeps tabs on everyone. Their movements, their digital footprint, all of it. He was watching your father that night, and worse, when the family your sister was about to marry requested the proof of her demise to maintain their continued support, he sent a video from his cell phone. The same cell phone Soo had cloned. Now, Soo has the video and every other naughty thing your father has done.”

  He whips out his cell phone, turns it to face me, and hits the play button. “I asked him to forward me this when I saw Nic caught you.”

  He keeps talking, but the sound seems to dampen to a fuzzy ringing that takes over as I blink and try to force myself under control. I hadn’t wanted to hear what they had to say about him, my own blood, and yet, proof? I’m watching it, but I can’t see it through the haze over my vision. I want to deny the hand holding the gun isn’t my father’s, but there’s his signet ring, the one he never removes.

  “Enough,” a hard voice orders from far away.

  A cool hand touches my cheek, and like I’m swimming up through heavy rapids, I turn to face the person standing there touching me. Nic. Of course.

  He’s shouting at Lucas, cursing, and the phone goes flying across the room. I catch his hands and shake my head, my breathing shallow and my head dizzy.

  My sister.

  “Celia,” Nic says, louder this time.

  I shake myself, and the room comes rushing back around us in overwhelmingly bright focus. “No, I’m here.”

  Both men are watching me closely now, as if they are waiting for me to tip off the couch and shatter onto the floor.

  “We’re leaving,” Nic announces, rising from his crouch.

  I tear my hand from his. “We aren’t finished here. I have more to ask him. A few more minutes, please?”

  He paces around the space like a wild animal, then stops, staring down at me. “I’ll be outside the door. You have two minutes. Hurry.”

  After he walks out, I focus on Lucas again. “Well, since we’re under a time crunch…”

  Lucas is staring at the apartment door Nic just left from. “He seems different.”

  There’s no way he can know, and I’ll never admit it, but I’m grateful for the change of topic. My sister’s death at the hands of our father is something I need to consider on my own. Not colored by his own views.

  “How so?”

  “He’s had women, of course. But in all the years I’ve witnessed his personal life, I’ve never seen him how he is with you.”

  My mind immediately hops to the negative, assuming he means things are different with me because of who I am or how we came together. “What does that mean?”

  As if he can see inside my head, he rolls his eyes. “With his other women, it was sex, and that’s it. He never troubled himself with their comfort or safety. Once they left his sight, they were always on their own.”

  The news shoots a wave of relief through me, and yet, I feel like I’m surrendering by wanting him like I do, by needing him. “Well, that’s interesting.”

  He snorts, like he knows exactly what I’m struggling with. Thankfully, he doesn’t drag it into the light and make me face it.

  “I better go before he comes in here and carries me out.” I stand and face him. “I don’t know where we stand, but if we’re family, then I want to have a relationship with you. If you think you can handle having one with me. And know, I’m going to make this right.”

  His mouth drops open. Before he has the chance to run away, I reach up and hug him. As quickly as I wrap my arms around him, I turn away and head out the door.

  Nic is standing next to it, leaning on the drywall. “Are you okay?”

  I nod. “I’m ready to go. Thank you for bringing me here.”

  For a second, he looks like he wants to argue with me, but then he changes his mind and tugs me to his side. “I’m sorry he was so crude about your sister. While I also told you the truth, I know it’s different facing the proof of something.”

  He walks me to the elevator and leads me to the car. When we pull away, he shifts to drag me into his lap. “Let me hold you.”

  “Why?” While our relationship has changed, the intimacy between us still leans heavily toward sex—except for his constant need to touch me.

  “Because I want to, and because you want me to, even if you won’t admit it out loud. That’s okay. You don’t have to admit it. Just sit here, shut up, and let me do it.”

  I tuck my head into his chest and let out a long exhale. Did my mother know my father killed my sister? How could she? There is very little she notices beyond the neck of a liquor bottle. Hell, she hadn’t even helped at my sister’s wake.

  A wave of nausea rolls over me, and I clamp my hand over my mouth. We had a wake and a funeral for her. My father gave a eulogy beside her grave.

  Nic massages the base of my neck until the nausea slows. But in its wake, something sharper takes shape in my gut, filling me up. It went so far beyond the paltry urge for revenge I’d harbored toward Nic when we first met. This need for vengeance feels like it can consume me if it’s not satisfied.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but we need to talk about last night and what you offered me.”

  He shifts so I can meet his eyes. “Now? You want to talk about it right now?”

  I nod. “You made me an offer. I told you I’d consider, and when I was ready to give you an answer, I would.”

  He grinds his teeth and tugs my hips into him. “Any decision you make right now is made in grief.”

  I keep my face neutral, force him to see I’m serious and that I’m making the choice willingly. “Does that mean you don’t want to hear my answer or my conditions?”

  It takes time for him to answer me. No doubt he fought some sort of inner struggle over it. But then he says, “Tell me.”

  I wrap my hands around his neck and arch up to press my forehead into his. “I’ll marry you, but under one condition. It’s non-negotiable.”

  His hands tighten on my hips, and I feel him growing hard between my thighs. “Tell me, stellina. It’s not nice to tease a man.”

  “I’ll be your wife if, and only if, when it comes time to kill my father, it’s my finger on the trigger, and my eyes are the last ones he sees.”

  17

  Nic

  Only a few days have passed since I asked Celia to be my wife, and a
ny minute now, she’s going to walk into my office and tell me she’s changed her mind. I catch myself every few minutes, halting my pacing to stare at the door. Simply to make sure she’s not standing on the other side, bolstering her courage to reject me.

  I have confined myself to my office, as every single person I encounter today seems to try to get in my way. After Sarah refused to make lunch for me, Soo suggested I prepare for the ceremony and then hide out in my office until it’s time.

  The result is I’ve not seen Celia since we woke up this morning, which has set me on edge. I’m not the kind of man who needs reassurance, and yet, I long to hear her voice in my ear, confirming she’s mine. Hell, earlier, I even thought about sending a staff member out to buy her a cell phone, so I could at the very least call her.

  I spin away from the door for the tenth time in the last hour and stalk toward the fireplace. The pacing is the only thing keeping me from ripping off my tuxedo in favor of something less restrictive.

  The lowball of brandy in my hand doesn’t hurt either. But the fear, the lack of food, and alcohol create a toxic sludge in my gut that threatens to end the celebration before it starts.

  The afternoon sunlight is beaming through the windows. We could’ve held the ceremony outside, but it’s always hard to know if the weather will cooperate in this part of the state. There is more room in this house than I will ever be able to fill, so it is nothing to have the staff decorate an empty ballroom for the event.

  A sharp knock on the office door sends my hands shaking. “Come in,” I shout.

  Soo pokes his head through the door and peers around the room until he spots me practically huddling in the farthest corner. “Are you okay?”

  “What do you want?” I growl.

  He closes the door behind him. “You asked me to come and find you once the room was prepared. The priest is already waiting, and I think Celia is almost ready.”

  That snaps through the haze. “Have you seen her?”

  “No, she refuses to let anyone into her room.”

  I cross to the door in a couple of long strides. “Why? Does she need anything? Is she having regrets? Maybe she’s afraid to call everything off for fear of me.”

  Soo claps me on the shoulder, takes the drink from my hand, and swishes the rest of it back. “Let’s go look at the room, so you can stretch your legs and calm the fuck down.”

  I follow him to the main floor and off to a rarely used ballroom. Soo shoves the doors open with little fanfare. But the inside of the room jerks me to a halt at the threshold.

  A long white carpet runs up the center of the room to reach a small stage. A collection of chairs is arranged on either side of the carpet. But only a few, as this is going to be a very private ceremony. The staff has somehow erected a trellis above the chairs and strung tiny white lights from the wooden supports. And on top of those: white lilies. The scent of them hangs heavy in the air, giving the room a magical touch.

  “Do you think she’ll like it?” I ask Soo.

  He nods. “I think she’ll love it. But there’s one more thing you need to take care of before she’s done getting ready.”

  As always, he’s right. I’ve been putting it off out of fear that seeing my face will scare her into running.

  Soo catches my arm before I can head back toward the stairs. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I grab the railing and meet his eyes. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  He offers a smile. “I’m here for you, man, and I’m happy for you.”

  Before things can get out of hand in the emotion department, I sprint upstairs to our room and dig a long garment bag from the back of the closet. It takes me another two seconds to reach the room, and I knock softly.

  “Go away,” she shouts.

  I smile, thinking about how much yelling at the staff I’ve been doing today, too. Does she have the same fears? That I’ll change my mind and leave her standing at the altar alone? The idea soothes me. Easing the ache in the pit of my gut for the first time all day.

  “I have a gift for you.”

  “Just leave it!”

  Instead of waiting for permission, I grip the handle and shove the door open. She’s sitting in her white lace lingerie on the edge of the bed, a glass of wine clutched in her hand. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be in here.”

  I lay the dress on the bed and cup her cheeks. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  She shakes her head. “Nothing is wrong. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m making the best choice.” Her eyes snag on the bag, and she waves her glass toward it. “What’s that?”

  “A gift,” I say, and carefully lower the zipper to reveal the dress inside. While she thought she would wear something else, I’d ensured she has a dress fit for the princess she is.

  “Wow,” she breathes, running her fingers over the exposed lace. “I guess I better put it on since we’re supposed to go downstairs soon.”

  She carefully peels the dress from the bag and heads into the bathroom, where her makeup artist is still packing up her kit. When she closes the door behind her, I smile. If she hadn’t, and I’d caught sight of her in her lingerie, we’d both be late for our own wedding.

  When she exits the bathroom, I think my heart stops. She is stunning. Of course, she is beautiful no matter what she’s wearing, but right now, her body wrapped in white lace that hugs every inch of her, I can’t even think about how lovely she looks.

  “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

  It takes me two tries to clear my throat. “There’s jewelry to match. Let me help you put it on.”

  I open the blue velvet box and lift out an intricate diamond wreath necklace. She gasps as the cold metal fits around her neck. Once it’s secure, I fish out the earrings and bracelet to give her.

  She faces me again and smiles, wide and warm, and it’s enough to melt the ice I’ve kept my heart encased in since my parents died. Fuck, she is worth it, though.

  “Are you having second thoughts?” I blurt out.

  Her eyes dash to mine. “What? No. Do I look like I am? I promise. We made a deal, and I intend to honor it. Besides…” She steps into me and runs her hands up my lapels. “You look so fucking good in a tuxedo. I can’t wait to strip it off you later.”

  “Watch it, princess, or we’ll never make it downstairs, and all this work will have been for nothing.”

  The makeup artist and hair stylists that were set up in the bathroom slip out the door quietly. But she only has eyes for me. “How about you? Any regrets?”

  I lift her chin with my fingers, tilting her head so I can capture her mouth, but instead of kissing her, I nibble on her bottom lip. When I release her lip, I say, “No. I have none. However, I have to admit, I’m not a big enough man to let you go now, even if you asked me, even if you begged.”

  Her breathing is uneven, and I know she has to be wet underneath all that lace for me. It takes all the control I’ve learned over the years not to find out. “Well, it looks like we are both on the same page. Although, every time I turn around, it seems you’ve outdone yourself with the staff or the decorations. Everything is lovely. It’s exactly what I would have chosen for my wedding myself. And I’ll be honest, not at all what I expected.”

  “What did you expect?”

  She shrugs, the lace parting around the lush curve of her breasts to entice me with a glimpse. “I don’t know. An empty room, you in a suit, Soo officiating the wedding maybe. I wasn’t expecting you to want to make it beautiful for me.”

  I deserve that, by the way things have progressed for us, but I will make her fucking learn her care comes first to me. “You might not believe it, but I want to make you happy. And eventually, once we get through all of this, I think you will be.”

  Her eyes search mine. “Why, though? That’s something I’m having trouble with.”

  I smirk and kiss her knuckles. “Because you belong to me. And I t
ake care of what’s mine.”

  A heavy pounding on the door tells me it’s time. “I’ll see you downstairs,” I tell her and turn to go.

  It takes everything in me not to look back. Watch her for signs she might have doubts. Because even if I see those signs, I won’t be able to let her go.

  Soo and I head down to the ballroom. Lucas is sitting in one of the chairs as I stride up the aisle. He hadn’t wanted to be here today, but I know Celia would want him to be. He’s still acting as if I don’t exist and that I’ve somehow fucked up his entire plan, but soon he’ll realize I saved his fucking life.

  I glare at him with a warning before taking my place in front of the priest, a small elderly man who looks slightly bemused about this entire situation but is amenable to doing his job.

  Soft strains of piano music rise out of the speakers built into the room. Soo, of course, cues the song when Celia arrives to walk down the aisle. When she appears in the doorway, a white bouquet in her hands, I freeze, unable to take my eyes off her.

  I’d already seen her in this dress, but not in this room, in this context, and I can’t stop watching her as she slowly walks up the aisle alone.

  When she reaches me, I’m still dumbstruck, so she takes my hand in hers and shifts me around to face the priest.

  At my request, he keeps the ceremony brief and to the basics. And when I slip a slim platinum band onto her left ring finger, it’s as if I can breathe fully for the first time since we began the ceremony.

  The priest is smiling at us both when he says, “You may kiss your bride.”

  I face Celia, but before I can lower my lips to hers, she has her hand wrapped around the back of my neck, dragging me to meet her. She tastes sweet, like the wine she’d been drinking in her room, no doubt, and her mouth is smooth and warm as I clutch her tighter to my chest.

  I don’t know how long we stay this way, kissing, feeling each other, but someone clears their throat loud enough that we finally break apart. The assembled give us a small round of applause, including the priest. All except Lucas, who is staring with his usual brooding intensity as if he’s waiting for something to happen, which might actually be worth his time.