The Mafia Devil's Pet Angel
Brienne’s POV
I never should’ve taken this job. My hands quivered as I rolled the gargantuan cake to the platform. It was Mrs. Vasari’s sixtieth birthday and every street scum that ever sold a gram in a backwater alley was here, trying to curry favor with the Vasari family.
The hitmen, corrupt judges, politicians, and the pimps of New York filled the lavish hall. The pimps were the worst of the mix, at least the others stuck to the whores they paid for. So far I’d been ogled, catcalled and groped. I spotted the last guy nursing his broken finger in the far end of the room, and a corner of my lips lifted in a smirk.
Done, I smoothed my apron and stepped down. Now I needed to disappear before the big baddies showed up. The Capos, the Dons and him... Eladio Vasari. I shivered at the thought of him. It was time to head home and wait for my check. The Mafia for all their flaws, sure paid well, and Lord knows I needed the money.
“Briiieeeee!!!”
I rolled my eyes and sighed before turning around, my features pulled tight in a forced smile. I’d recognize the high pitched voice anywhere, my only friend; Daisy. Her father was mayor of our town and he like everybody of any significance, was deep in the mafia’s pockets.
She, much as I loved her, had to be the most naïve and sheltered person I’d ever met. But she got me this gig, and I’d have been more grateful if she wasn’t now barring my speedy exit.
“I’m so glad you cameee” she shrieked, pulling me into a hug.
“A girl’s gotta eat” I said, chuckling awkwardly as she stepped back to inspect me.
“Did you hear Eladio’s coming?” she asked, blocking my path when I tried to sidestep, moving our conversation towards an exit. I almost pinched her lips like a toddler.
He was the only Son of Don Caruso Vasari, and since his father got bedridden, he ran the Vasari mafia. He was ruthless, more so than every Don in the continent. With well-known proclivities that made my skin scrawl. They called him il Davolo di Vasari. Daisy spoke of him with sparks in her eyes.
“I’ve only seen him once and he is hottt.”
I grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her from droning on like she did about every mildly handsome and grossly toxic guy she ever met. “I’d love to stay back and meet the devil of Vasari (I lied), I really would, but I have to get going.”
Just then everyone stood, and I felt a chill spread over my skin. He was here. Just my luck. Men in black suits poured into the room, carrying with them the darkness of his presence. When he stepped into the hall, there was no mistaking what had happened.
Every hair on my body was standing on their ends by the time I saw him. Everyone else seemed smaller, even though his guards were at least a head taller than him and two times his size. Power rolled off his frame in waves, like he was in control of everyone and everything around him.
I forgot to breathe. Fear clogged my thoughts and weighed on my knees. Few feet from me was a man who’d killed hundreds of people as a statement, and lord knows how many indirectly, through the narcotics he and his family traded in. What terrified me the most, was the way my body reacted to being around him.
For the first time ever, Daisy had made an understatement. “Hot” didn’t begin to describe the man surrounded by four behemoths as he made firm handshakes with the Dons of the Bellante Crime Syndicate and the DeSanzo family. I rubbed my thighs against each other to offset the dull ache building up, my eyes held captive by his lean muscular frame in a perfect fitted suit.
He took a seat next to his mother. She like him, had a face of hard lines. Her hawk-like face void of the wrinkles you’d expect at her age. The only indicators of her age were the tiny crowfeet at the corners of her eyes, and the single gray streak in her pulled back hair.
These were the people my dad owed a fortune... The Vasari family. I needed to look away, turn around and flee before any of them took notice of me. Especially him, our city swallowed women that lingered in the devil's orbit. The voice of reason screamed at me from the back of my brain, but my eyes snapped back to him unable stay away from him for long.
My eyes drank him in, the way his tattoos covered the backs of his palms and peeked out at his neck. His jawline seemed carved out of marble, had a time traveler gone back in time and given Michelangelo a laser precision tool. And oh his eyes, my breath faltered when I noticed, he was staring back at me.
His icy blue eyes pierced through me in the instant. He could see everything... I knew he could. My fear, the way my nipples tightened, the way my core pulsed at the thought of him in me. Of course he could, the devil could see my sins. My ankles buckled and I nearly crumpled to the floor, but it broke the spell long enough for me to wheel around and leave as fast as I could without running.
Eladio’s POV
I was used to having eyes on me. My whole life, the gaze of fear, admiration, hate and lust. I learned to let them wash off me like water on a rock. I’d earned their fear, I was beyond their hate, and their lust only mattered if I wanted a plaything. But her gaze… her gaze got my attention.
It was nothing like the girl beside her in garish pink hair, I could tell she wasn’t naïve. Her hazel doe eyes saw me for what I was. They stayed on me because her body disobeyed. I licked my lips, slow and deliberate, imagining how she’d taste when I have her pinned down and writhing. Because the light she radiated wasn’t just goodness, it was fire in her blood. It needed to be tested, by my darkness.
I tilted to Paolo, my most trusted adviser and underboss. “Who is she?”
“The baker” he replied in a bored tone.
One of the many reasons Paolo held his position as my right hand man despite his roguish tendencies was, he knew everyone. I could give a name and he’d run through every detail publicly available.
“What does she owe?” I asked, taking another glance at lithe curves of her quickly retreating figure.
“Nothing”
My eyes snapped back to him and he shrank in on himself. “She owes us nothing, but she does have sizable student loans”. He was holding back still, I could tell, and I let my eyes warn him. “Her father owes upwards of twenty million in debt and accrued interest” he finally blurted out.
I took a deep soothing breath, a smile stretching my lips. Opposites we were, he had an ex-wife and a daughter. I could tell he felt guilty about not being in his daughter’s life enough. He liked to protect good girls, keep them away from our world. I liked to break them.
“It’s time to call in her debt”
