Devil You Hate: A Dark Mafia Enemies to Lovers Romance (The Diavolo Crime Family Book 1)

by J. L. Beck

  “I’ll miss you too, Maria. You’re probably the only person I’ll miss from this god-forsaken house.” I smile and wrap my arms around her middle.

  Her sweet scent washes over me, and I suck a thick breath into my lungs. We hug for a moment longer, and when she pulls away, I see tears in her eyes.

  “You’re only given one life. Make the best of it.” She clears her throat and backs out of the bedroom slowly.

  My heart clenches in my chest like someone is squeezing the blood right out of it. There’s no point in trying to fight the inevitable. There are no other options for me. There never was. I’ll have to make do with what I’ve been given.

  Shifting gears, I sip the drink and drag my attention back to the lingerie again. I try to imagine Marco taking it off of me. The image in my head leaves me cold. Marco won’t care about what I want in bed. He’ll strip me, use me, and then leave—a piece of ass he paid for with his family name.

  I should find the worst granny panties in the world to wear on our wedding night. Maybe he won’t be able to get it up and instead seek out one of the many girls he keeps on his roster. That will set the precedence early that I won’t welcome him in my bed.

  Could I even set that boundary?

  Or would Marco take by force what I deny him? He seems like a man who would take it and enjoy stripping me of my dignity. I throw back the rest of the drink in a couple gulps and set the tumbler on the fireplace mantle. The alcohol burns all the way down my throat and settles deep in my gut, radiating warmth and taking a smidge of the coldness in my bones away.

  I return to the bed and wiggle my bra out from under the champagne silk of my slip. No use putting on my nightgown when I can sleep in this. With the whiskey finally working its way through my system, a warmth swirls in my belly and radiates out toward my limbs. It’s like being wrapped in a heated blanket.

  Thoughts dip in and out of my brain hazily. I lie back on the bedspread and let the liquor gently lead me into oblivion. Maybe this is why my mother drinks? To numb her of the absurdity called her life.

  I can’t imagine after twenty years with Marco what I’ll look like by the end. Spirit broken, and of no more use than to plan parties and entertain his guests. Most of the men in the five families want a trophy wife. There aren’t many daughters in the pedigreed lines that make up our own little world here in Chicago. The sons of these families can take one of the daughters as a wife and have a hundred mistresses on the side. No one cares. The second one of the wives takes a lover, well… I’d seen the grave of one of their wives with my own eyes.

  Are their mistresses held to the same standard of conduct? I need to get my brain to shut off. The questions are compounding, and I don’t have any answers. I’m wasting my time thinking about things that don’t matter.

  I close my eyes and picture my sister’s face in my mind. Her beautiful silky black hair I always envied. The gentle curve to her brown doe eyes. I can feel her ghost nudging me along, giving me the strength when all I want to do is rip my hair out and scream until someone listens to me. Until someone hears me.

  Undoubtedly, no one cares. I’m alone in this. In two days, I will become Mrs. Celeste Gardello. All the dreams I have as a person will be gone. Stripped away to unearth new desires, all of which must center on my husband and his needs. It’s the way things are done, my mother told me after we signed the contracts.

  “If you be kind to him, show him that sweet heart of yours, how can he not fall in love with you?” she’d said with her liquor-laced breath and tears swimming in her eyes.

  They weren’t tears of joy. She was weeping for me, for my loss.

  My mother loves me. But not enough to save me.

  No one can save me now, not even myself.

  2

  Nic

  The problem with the five families today… every one of them has gone soft. They consider holding their territory and keeping it tucked tight in their fat fucking fists beneath them. Which is why, when I’m done, I’ll take it all. Every fucking thing will be mine. Every man and woman will bow to me or face death. I don’t make idle threats, and I’m anything but soft. I’ve clawed my way out of hell and back. I’ll make them all pay for their sins.

  As for holding my territory… I revel in it. I delight in showing every dickhead who steps into my lane exactly who’s boss. Starting with the three idiots kneeling on the pavement of my parking garage before me.

  I sit in front of them on a stool, my trusty Desert Eagle 50AE clutched in my hand, resting on my thigh. With thick cloth bags over their heads, they can’t see the gun. It wasn’t necessary when they had nearly pissed themselves the moment I put them on their knees.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” I ask them.

  The question is rhetorical because they know why they’re here. Plus, they are all shaking so badly, I doubt any of them are going to volunteer an answer.

  They fucked with me. Now they’ll pay the price.

  I keep my voice level and calm. An easy trick considering these assholes will be dead in five minutes or less. “Will any of you tell me where the gun cache you hid in my territory is?”

  I don’t need to tell them who I am. Every single criminal on the streets knows where the boundary lines to my domain are. The moment they shift, you better believe it’s learn quick or die fast.

  I slide off the stool and step up to the first dickhead. He visibly quakes as I crouch in front of him. Not that he can see me through the sack. Though I’m sure they can feel the slight stir of air, feel death breathing down their necks.

  “How about you, Big Shot? Want to tell me where the guns are?”

  “Will you promise not to kill me?” His voice wobbles. I can imagine his bottom lip is trembling, his face a mask of pure horror. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he had tears running down his cheeks. The number of times I’ve seen grown men cry is astounding. There are never tears when they’re doing wrong, only when they’re caught in the devil’s clutches.

  I glance back at my second-in-command, Soo. His shoulder-length black hair is already in a bun at the base of his neck, ready to make a move the moment I ask. I shake my head with a little grin. “This one wants to know if I’ll promise not to kill him.”

  Soo just shrugs, matching my smile, knowing damn well that begging never works with me.

  I turn my attention back to my captive. “Sure, I’ll promise not to kill you. Just tell me where the guns are.”

  The man visibly sinks into himself, thinking I’ve given him a reprieve. Immediately, the other two dickheads speak up, talking over themselves to save their own skin.

  “Fifth street…” one says, and the other finishes his sentence.

  “Near the warehouses, across the railroad tracks.”

  I almost laugh, it’s funny what people will do once they think there are no repercussions. What they don’t realize is that there is always a repercussion. For every good and bad thing you do in this world, there is a consequence, and this is there’s.

  Without delay, I press the barrel of the gun to the middle guy’s temple and say, “Thank you.”

  I pull the trigger, and he falls back onto the sheet of clear plastic, waiting for easy cleanup. The other two men immediately huddle into themselves. Why? I stare at them, genuinely trying to figure out how cowering will help keep them alive. Their fear only feeds my rage, and without even blinking, I pull the trigger again and then hand my weapon, barrel first, to Soo.

  As he takes the hot metal in his hand like it’s nothing, he says, “It’s time.”

  I turn toward the SUV idling nearby. The sound of the gunshot behind me causes the sides of my lips to tip up into a sinister grin.

  Never make a deal with the devil.

  He always wins in the end.

  I climb into the car, and Soo takes the driver’s side. Already, my men are gathering the plastic, rolling up the dead bodies for easy disposal. There are very few people on my payroll. But every single one of them I trust imp
licitly.

  Every bond I make is forged in blood. Nothing less will do to ensure my men stay loyal. Paying them well and giving them a cut of my product doesn’t hurt either. The gangster’s retirement plan, they call it.

  As if any of us will make it to retirement age. That’s laughable. It doesn’t matter, though. I don’t care if I die as long as I finish my plans first. Death is inevitable; it will catch you in the long run and even more so in this job. I’ve come to terms with that, and when my time comes, I will greet death with open arms.

  We ride through the city, and the closer to my destination we get, the higher the buzz under my skin climbs.

  Today begins the end of it all.

  Soo glances at me, his hands clenched so tight around the steering wheel his knuckles are white. “Are you ready for this?”

  Of all the people in my life, only he and my brother could question me without earning a bullet to the temple.

  “Do I not look ready?” I counter, staring straight out the windshield.

  The familiar upscale neighborhood is where one of the worst crime families in the world hides out. They pretend to stay beneath the radar, but everyone knows the darkness that circles them. There is no hiding evil. It’s best to wear it like a badge of honor.

  Soo doesn’t comment on what I look like, so we lapse into silence. The side-gate for a large mansion stretches out in front of us. Two figures dressed in black, one carrying a small form over their shoulder, rush down the driveway. The prospect of getting revenge gives me an all-new excitement; not even the thrill of murdering my enemies gives me this kind of high.

  Once Soo comes to a stop, he unlocks the vehicle, and the men bolt through the gate and into the backseat of the SUV. The small feminine body lands in a heap flat across their laps, her arms flayed out over her head.

  I gesture at the girl. “Put her in the fucking trunk.”

  Mic climbs out and drags the girl, belly down, into his arms. Then he opens the back of the SUV and tosses her inside, none too gently. I’m not particularly happy about it but it’s better than having her on their laps.

  Once he’s back in his seat, Soo takes off the way we came. I check the rearview mirror and smile. No one is rushing out. No one seems to be coming to save her—all the better.

  Soo remains quiet as we drive. Mic and Archy, if that’s their actual names, aren’t on my payroll, and once we get back to my house, I’ll pay them, and hopefully never see them again. I don’t like the way they were manhandling her or how they tossed her into the back. I can feel the desire to kill them rising with every beat of my heart. I have half a mind to cut off their balls and feed them down their throats when we arrive at the house. Yes, it’s an irrational thought since I asked them to grab her for me, but I don’t care. Rational thinking is for men that care what others think. The only one who gets to touch or hurt her is me… for now, at least.

  We make it back to the house before I let my anger ruin a perfectly adequate working relationship. Soo enters the gate passcode, and we drive into the underground garage we’d been in only a half-hour earlier.

  Once Soo parks, everyone gets out, and Mic takes it upon himself to gather up my newest possession from the trunk. I narrow my eyes at him, but he ignores me and follows Soo down a corridor and into the basement. I’d set up a little room just for her. We file in, and Mic drops her down onto the mattress. She bounces and then settles; the slip she’s wearing is under her breasts, leaving her panties and legs exposed to everyone.

  I grit my teeth hard enough to crack them and march across the space to inspect her. The second daughter of the reigning Ricci family sure grew into a beautiful young woman. Her dark brown hair lies around her head in a halo, some obscuring her features. I crouch beside the mattress and lift the strands from her face, smoothing them away so I can get a better look at her.

  Her eyes are closed, and she looks peaceful, like an angel that’s sleeping. Too bad she’s been given to the devil. My gaze lowers, roaming over her creamy flesh. The blood in my veins becomes molten lava when I notice the red scrape on her cheek. It looks fresh. Too fresh.

  Gently, as if she is made of glass, I brush my thumb across the wound, lingering where it is flayed across the scar that runs diagonally on her cheek.

  Her scar does nothing to hinder her beauty.

  Rage already a low simmer in my gut reaches a boil. I quickly cup her head, feeling down her exposed skin until my gaze lands on her chipped fingernails. Blood is caked under two of them, and as my gaze lowers, I notice a bright purple bruise in the shape of a handprint across her thigh, only inches from her lace-covered pussy. My insides burn, and I’ve never felt the need to inflict pain on someone so badly.

  I stand casually, a storm brewing inside of me. Soo moves behind me, no doubt attuned to my shift in mood. The two men I paid to bring her to me huddle near the door, waiting for their money.

  I approach slowly, a predator sizing up his prey. “I’m sure I instructed you not to harm her.”

  Mic speaks up first. “She woke up when we nabbed her. I had to hit her over the head to get her out of the house quietly.”

  I turn my attention to Archy. “And you? Did you decide to cop a feel while your partner here subdued her?”

  An awareness enters his eyes. He can see his death at my hands, and I let him take a good long look. “In the hallway, now.”

  The men precede me, and Soo follows me out, leaving the door open so he can lean casually in the frame.

  I force air into my lungs to calm the fuck down before I put my Eagle in their eye sockets and blow their brains out. I’m not bothered by death, and I have no problem killing.

  “Tell me what happened. Every single fucking detail, like your life depends on it.”

  Mic, of course, takes the lead, his mouth open like a fish out of water. “She was passed out on her bed like we were told she would be. Except when Archy went to grab her, she woke up and started to fight.” He pulls down the neck of his shirt, revealing a set of claw marks across his skin. “She’s a hellcat, if you ask me. I had to knock her out so we could get out of there before she started screaming.”

  I shift my eyes to Archy. “And you? What’s your excuse?”

  His gaze shoots to Mic and then back to me. Obviously, not the brains of the operation here. “I just carried her, Boss. Promise.”

  “Promise,” I whisper.

  Soo presses the Eagle into the palm of my hand behind my back. Once I have hold of it, he shifts down the hallway. No doubt to get the cleanup crew ready to take care of these dickheads.

  I bring the gun out and press it to my temple as if I am figuring out a problem. “So how did she get that bruise on her thigh? Is one of you not getting laid enough at home and need to put hands on what’s mine?” My voice remains calm, but inside, everything roils to waste these idiots.

  Mic, suddenly realizing they are in a lot more trouble than he thought, raises his hands up in surrender. “We didn’t know she was yours, Boss. Honest. Archy just wanted to see what she was hiding under her nightgown.”

  I glance back at Archy, who stares at Mic like he just got himself killed. To be fair, he did. “I’m sorry, she just… she looked so soft. All I did was touch her a little bit.”

  I bring the gun down in front of me with a nod, like visions of their imminent death aren’t pinging around in my head. Call me a monster, but I even give them a grin to set them at ease. “Her skin does look soft. It’s because she’s a pampered princess.”

  Both men smile back, nodding, thinking maybe, just maybe, they’ll walk out of here alive.

  I continue, “I hear she’s a virgin. I bet that sweet little pussy is going to be so good when I claim it.”

  Mic shifts back, his smile placating. The smile of a man praying to keep on breathing. Archy, the goddamned idiot, only grins wider and nods.

  “Did you look at it?” I question Archy. “Check it out for me? Is she clean-shaven?”

  Archy swallows, his grin
turning lecherous. “I couldn’t see because of her panties. Mic wouldn’t let me take them off her.”

  Back to the brains of the operation who slowly shifts away from his friend, too stupid to realize he’s gone from the lion’s gaze to his mouth.

  I lean in and nod conspiratorially. “I don’t know about you, but I like a little hair down there. Makes me feel like I’m fucking a woman and not a child.”

  Archy shrugs. “Don’t care as long as the hole is wet.”

  Oh, he seems the type to not give a shit. While I don’t give a shit what my possessions want or don’t want when it comes to their bodies, I do care about some trash gangster nobody putting his eyes, and worse, his hands on what’s mine. The boiling anger in my gut rises, and I let it level to the surface, finally allowing them to see the predator beneath the mask.

  I wrap my arm around his neck and squeeze him to me, his head underneath my chin as I whisper down to him. “No one, and I mean, not a single soul, touches what’s mine. Period.”

  I press the gun to his temple and pull the trigger, smiling at the splatter of brain matter and blood that coats my face, the wall, and his twitching dead body.

  Once he hits the floor, I turn to Mic, who has already made a run for it down the hall. He doesn’t get past Soo, though, who holds him on his knees where he’s caught.

  “I’m sorry, Nicolo. Please, please let me live. I have children, and a wife. They need me.” Mic begs tirelessly for his life. There’s no point. I’ve already decided to kill him.

  I crouch down in front of him. “You should have chosen your partner better, Mic. You should have known who you were working for and ensured her safety while in your care.”

  He continues to beg, and I glance up at Soo, who is staring over my head and down the hallway.

  The woman is standing in the doorway, leaning out, eyes wide as she takes in the carnage. When her gaze reaches mine, I lock eyes with her, raise the gun to Mic’s head, and pull the trigger. Soo releases him to the floor while I stand and hand him back the gun. He’ll clean it and bring it back to me later.