Page 7 of Precious Hazard

Fury fills me as I take in his flawless features. I wish I could get away with marring them just a little. Or a lot. I’d call it payback for leaving my brother with a scar across his cheek when the two of them tried to kill each other. I know DeVille didn’t get away unscathed, but it wasn’t enough. I’m completely positive that Drago would have been able to kill the bastard if Ajello hadn’t appeared and broken up their little clash. Fate could be a real bitch sometimes. I’d like to kick her ass, along with DeVille’s. My brother is the only family I have left, and the thought of anyone hurting him makes me go ballistic.

Oh, right… If I needed a reminder of how I got to where I am now, there he is.

The devil incarnate.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask through my teeth.

“That’s more like the real you.” Arturo’s lips pull into a condescending grin. “Take a seat, Tara.”

I smile back as wide as I can. “I think you’re forgetting where you are, DeVille. You don’t get to give orders around here. And it’s Ms. Popov to you.”

That grin disappears, transforming into a scowl. “Will you just fucking sit down, woman? I need to talk to you about a serious matter.”

“We have nothing to discuss. Nothing you’d say is of any interest to me.”

DeVille pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Ajello might have been right. I should have brought flowers. But you likely hate flowers, don’t you?”

“Ajello?” I raise an eyebrow. “Why would your boss have any opinion on my preferences? He doesn’t even know me.”

And why wouldn’t I like flowers? I love flowers. There’s a giant pot of peace lilies next to my bed. Drago got it for me after one of his tirades about how I don’t take my responsibilities seriously. That one was when I dropped out of college. My third college. But the plant is still alive and well!Okaaaay… the “well” part may be a bit debatable since, the last time I checked, it only had a couple of green leaves among a multitude of dried ones.

“Will you please just sit?”

“Nope. I’m quite fine as I am, thank you.”

“I should have ordered whiskey.” DeVille shakes his head as he reaches for the champagne bottle. “Fine. This is how things stand. The Cosa Nostra don has expressed his wishes to have the two of us join in holy matrimony. I came here tonight so we could agree on terms and move forward with finalizing the finer details. Yourpreferences, for example.”

I gape at him, processing the nonsense that just left his mouth. A marriage. To him? An uncontrollable giggle explodes from my chest. I try to wrangle it in so as not to draw too much attention to us, but it’s just so damn hilarious.

“You really had me there for a moment,” I snort. “Did Sienna put you up to this? Is this her way of getting back at me because I pranked her with that story about her favorite shoe boutique shutting down? You can tell her we’re even. Bye!”

Still laughing my ass off, I turn around to get back to work but DeVille’s annoyingly sexy voice washes over me again.

“Tara.” That throaty timbre should be illegal, or at least come with a warning label. It’s dangerous to the unprepared.

I throw a glance over my shoulder. By all outward appearances, Sienna’s brother is still lounging comfortably against the back of the sofa as he sips champagne from his flute. However, there isn’t a trace of ease or softness in his features. His jaw is set in a hard line, and his forehead is furrowed as he watches me over the rim of his glass. I’m not sure how I know this, but I’m convinced that the man is a primed powder keg. A clogged magma chamber that’s ready to erupt. That look in his eyes? That’s the look of tightly contained rage. It could incinerate me right where I stand.

“I’m dead serious. Ajello even booked the venue.”

What?

Grabbing the edge of a nearby armchair, I drop onto the leather seat.

Salvatore Ajello is the most feared man on the Eastern Seaboard. I’ve seen grown men—gangsters and thugs—nearly shit their pants when Ajello’s name is brought up. How the hell did I end up in his crosshairs?

“Excuse me?” I choke out.

“It’s a done deal. The don wants to strengthen the ties between our organizations, so it’s not up for debate. Our job is to settle on how we’re going to handle this situation.”

“Oh? It’s a done deal, is it?” My voice is steady, and I manage to keep my tone calm. But as I lean over the table to bring my face right up to DeVille’s, I’m brimming with anger. The pressure spiking my blood might just rival that of the man proclaiming himself my intended husband.

Holy shit, this can’t be happening.

“Well, let me tell you how we’re going to handle this situation, DeVille,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m gonna go get myself a double shot of tequila, and then I’ll carry on with my shitty night. And you…” I point my finger at his chest. “You’re going to return to your deranged boss and tell him that he’s welcome to order his little minions, like yourself, around. Arranging marriages and other nonsense to his heart’s content. But I’m not one of them. So, I would like both of you to kindly fuck off.”

I keep my eyes locked on DeVille’s and get up from the armchair with as much grace as I can muster, straightening out my apron as I rise. A smart person would do anything to stay off Ajello’s radar, fearful of ending up in a body bag for pissing off the don. Too fucking bad I’ve never been accused of being wise.

“Tara…” DeVille’s voice seems to have morphed. It has dropped several decibels and gotten somehow deeper, gaining an almost purr-like quality. The gravelly undertone gives an impression that he’s a hair’s breadth from losing his shit. It’s not so much a warning as a promise of my demise.

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