Page 32 of Devil’s Reign

Oblivious to the war in my head, she continues, “So… does this mean you plan on keeping me here for a while? Since you had an entire library built for me and everything…” A kaleidoscope of emotions plays across her face, and I find it disturbingly fascinating.

“Yes,” I answer, short and brusque.

Her brows pinch together. “But why? I told you I won’t tell anyone what I saw. You could just let me go, and we’d never have to see or hear from each other again.”

That’s the problem, I barely stop myself from saying. “Who says I trust you to keep quiet?” I growl instead. “You seem to have trouble keeping your voice down⁠—”

She blushes, and the conflict raging inside of me nearly bursts open. No, this isn’t about what she saw. Not anymore. And that’s exactly why I don’t want to dig any deeper—because I’m not sure what I might discover about myself. About this insistent feeling taking root in my chest.

Fuck. I need space. Away from her. Without another word, I spin around and stalk towards the door, more than done with this conversation and the feelings it’s stirring up.

“Wait!”

The sound of her bare feet slapping the floor is my only warning before her fingers close around my wrist. Heat explodes up my arm, a brutal reminder that my cock is still hard and aching. I turn slowly to face her, my eyes narrowed in warning.

She lets go, taking a cautious step back. “I–I love the library, I do. But I can’t be here for too long. My family—they’ll worry. My mom… she might not be able to handle it.”

The fiery battle inside of me flares. She dares to think I’d ever let her go? Never. She’s fucking mine, and the sooner she accepts that, the better. I sneer at her.

What comes next is out of my control. “You’re right.” The words spill out of my mouth. “One missing child might be bearable, but two? Even a woman as strong as Linda Fontana might collapse under that weight.”

She gasps and takes a huge step back, her eyes widening in shock.

Surprised I know your mother’s real name? How insulting. By the end of the week, I’ll know everything there is to know about you, rodnaya moya.

Mine.

18

MELANI

A fiery possessiveness flickers in the blue depths of Vanya’s eyes. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, and what settles in its place is harder. Anger, maybe.

I'm in no state to analyze his emotions right now. My world has just tilted sideways.

He knows Mamma’s name. Her real name. Not the fake Monti surname we’ve been hiding behind, but Fontana. He knows about Luciano being missing. Which means he must know who I really am. Where I’m from.

My throat tightens, and I retreat several stumbling steps. Does he know we ran from Sicily? Of course he does. Someone like him doesn’t miss details like that.

But does he know why we ran? He must not—or he would be handing me over to the Cosa Nostra right now. The Bratva’s truce with them is fragile at best. Harboring a fugitive would tear it to shreds. So no, he doesn’t know.

My panic eases as logic reasserts itself. Even if he does know, the Sicilian Cosa Nostra operates differently from the one here in New York. Sure, the Sciarras may influence the Italian mafia in this city, but they don’t control it the way they do in Pietrarossa. My heart rate slows as I come to the conclusion that I’m safe from them—for now. I lift my chin to meet his penetrating stare.

“So, you ran a background check on me.”

“That’s right, Melani.” He walks towards me, closing the small distance I’ve managed to put between us.

I try to look down my nose at him, but it’s almost impossible when he towers over me. “If you know that, then let me go. My mother has already lost one child thanks to you. She’s suffered enough.”

“Thanks to me?”

His eyes narrow as he captures my chin between his thumb and index finger. Heat sears through me from the point of contact, and my stomach flips with unwanted desire. I yank my chin out of his grip, and he lets me go, though a small smirk plays at his lips.

“You think I have something to do with your brother’s disappearance.” It’s not a question.

I remain quiet, not wanting to confirm anything. But he takes my silence as an answer. The corner of his mouth turns down. “So, what? You got a job at my nightclub so you could snoop around?” He scoffs. “Stupid.”

“How’s it stupid if it worked?” I snap back.