Page 18 of Devil’s Reign

Fuck. What is it about this girl that’s making me so unrecognizable?

I loop the hair tie around my fingers, studying the fluffy black fabric for a long moment before stuffing it back into my pocket. Then I finally take out my phone and text Vasily as I head back towards my office.

What do you have for me?

Luka raises a brow when I step inside. “Done taking care of your prisoner?”

I ignore him, circling to my side of the desk and sinking into my chair. Without conscious thought, my hand slips back into my pocket, fingers finding that hair tie and rolling it between them. The repetitive motion is oddly soothing.

“Who is she, Vanya?”

Vanya. My chest tightens, and my cock stirs at the memory of the breathy, needy way she whispered my name. Fuck me. Only my family and Luka are allowed to call me that. When anyone else dares, it physically scrapes against my skin.

So why the hell did it sound so fucking sweet spilling from her lips?

“She’s no one,” I answer dismissively, turning on my computer. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have things to attend to?”

“She’s clearly someone.” He leans forward, bracing his elbows on my desk, completely ignoring my attempt to dismiss him. “It’s fine if you’re infatuated with her. You’re just a man, after all.”

I glare at him with enough heat to melt steel, but the bastard only chuckles. “I don’t get infatuated,” I grate out.

“Then what is this?” He looks genuinely confused now, head tilted like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re attracted to her? Fine. Then fuck her and get rid of her. We don’t need a witness hanging around to complicate things.”

My fingers strangle the hair tie in my pocket, and for a brief, violent moment, I imagine it’s Luka’s neck instead. Fuck her and get rid of her? How dare he talk about her like that? The audacity of it makes my chest burn.

I drag in a deep breath, trying to wrestle my rage back under control.

He’s talking about her that way because that’s how we’ve always talked about women. We use them for sex, then move on without looking back. Simple. No attachments. In our line of business, getting emotionally involved with someone is dangerously bad practice. It creates a living, breathing weakness that enemies can exploit.

“If you don’t have anything else to say, you may leave.” My voice comes out tight despite my attempt to mask my emotions.

Luka’s brows knit together. “Is this more than sex for you? You just met her last night.”

“Just leave, damn it!” I snap. I don’t want to fucking talk about her anymore. She’s already taking up too much space in my head. I need to focus on business, on the things that actually matter.

He raises both hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Just be careful. You’re never this sensitive about a woman. Don’t let her get under your skin.” Before I can bite his head off for daring to call me sensitive, he continues, “Right before you came in, I got the call that James Salvatore will go on air soon to announce his candidacy as an independent.”

“Good,” I say darkly, glad to at least move on from Melani Monti. A glance at my phone confirms Vasily still hasn’t replied.

Luka stands and crosses to the small console on the other side of my office, picking up the remote and switching on the TV. We don’t have to wait long before a news anchor begins the introductions.

Leaning back in my chair, I study James Salvatore’s face on the screen. I have to give him credit—he cleans up exceptionally well. The three-piece suit fits him like it was tailored to sell trust, and at just forty-three, he’s still young enough to have that polished, appealing look women in their thirties eat up. Hell, he’ll probably be popular with the younger crowd too. I told him to lean into his looks and charm.

He speaks smoothly and confidently with the news anchor, answering questions with ease, flashing that megawatt smile at all the right moments. Barely a few minutes in, everyone there is practically eating out of his palm, nodding along enthusiastically to every word.

I allow myself a small, satisfied grin. My plan is working. By the time I’m done orchestrating this campaign, James Salvatore will have this entire city waxing poetic about him. Daniel Salvi won’t know what hit him until it’s far too late.

“You made him go on that program, didn’t you?” Luka gives me a knowing look, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

“I might have suggested it to him.” I tap my index finger against my chin as a new idea pops into my head. “Look into Vincenzo Marino for me. Find out where he is right now.”

“You want to talk to him regarding the rumors of his missing people?” he guesses correctly. The man knows me too well. But that’s only part of it. I also want to see if Vincenzo knows anything about my little prisoner. Did the Italians send her? And if they did—why?

I smirk as I steeple my fingers. Let’s see just how deep our tentative truce really runs. Will they welcome me… or shove a gun in my face the second I cross into their territory?

There’s only one way to find out.

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