Page 18 of The Devil We Crave
He nods slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Okay,” he finally sighs. “Just looking out for you, is all.”
He grins and reaches out to ruffle my hair. I swear, he still thinks I’m seven. I bat his hand away and glare at him.
“You don’t have to shadow me just because my dad asked you to, you know.”
He snorts. “Excuse me? Have youmetyour fucking dad? He told me on your first day here that if anything happened to you atschool, he’d cut off my balls, followed by my head. And we both know that wasn’t hyperbole.”
Coming frommyfather? The notorious Nero De Luca?
No, it was not.
Damiano clears his throat. “Speaking of the party… You didn’t cross paths with any of the Drakoses, did you?”
My brow knits. “I don’t…think so?”
Just a stranger in a mask who held a knife to my throat and finger-fucked me into oblivion—I’m sorry, what was the question again?
Damiano nods slowly. “Okay. Well, if any of them gives you shit, especially Achilles, let me know.”
I frown. “Gives me shit about what?”
He grimaces. “Fuck, have you not heard? The goddamn building.”
I'm confused.
Nine months ago, my father was approached by the Santoro family out of Boston. They were looking to make a move into New York, and wanted to start with a major real estate purchase. But they needed some liquidity and a New York partner. That's where Dad stepped in.
Admittedly, therewasa little bit of rockiness with the Drakos family to start. The building that the Santoro family and mine ended up buying is directly behind a building on Central Park South that’s been in the Drakos family for generations. The Drakos family mansion estate sits on the roof of it.
As in, there isliterallyan enormous mansion that was moved brick by brick from the English countryside to the roof of their forty-story building by Central Park, complete with grounds, rose gardens, and two pools. Dimitra Drakos, Achilles’ great-grandmother, has lived there for most of her adult life.
Apparently the Drakos family hadalsobeen eying the building Dad and the Santoro family ended up buying, but my father used his city government connections to make sure there was no bidding war.
The Drakos family wasn’t very pleased.
But I’m confused why Damiano thinks they’d be giving me shit about itnowbecause Dad smoothed things over after the sale. He gave Ares Drakos, Achilles’ father, first dibs on certain residential units that might get built, and promised that the building would never be vertically expanded, thus ruining Dimitra’s view.
I frown. “I thought everything had been settled with that?”
Damiano smiles wryly. “Itwas,” he growls. “Until Angelo Santoro launched a PR campaign this morning online, complete with blueprints with the plans for twenty additional fucking floors added to the building.”
Oh shit.
Damiano nods grimly. “So, like I said, if Achilles tries to start anything…”
I smile wryly. “Achilles? I mean, I get that he’d be upset about something like that. But I mean…” I lift a shoulder. “We’re talking about Achilles Drakos, the golden prince ofKnightsblood.” I smile. “Are you really worried he of all people would retaliate for this?”
Damiano says nothing for a second, just rubs his clean-shaven jaw.
“People aren't always who they appear to be on the outside, Lena,” he says quietly. “Look, just… Stay sharp, okay?”
“Lookslike weallleft too soon.” Galina smirks.
“Oh,hilarious,” Wren mumbles, still looking the worse for wear.
I lean over and give her a side hug before I glance back at Galina. “Wait, why?”
