Page 102 of Deal with the Devil
Il Diavolo backs us up a couple more steps to put more space between us and the police attempting to apprehend him. He’s close enough that his breath tickles the side of my face, the grip he has on me still tight.
“Play along, dolcezza,” he murmurs softly into my ear. It’s low enough no one else hears, the mask further disguising him. “This is the only way we both make it out of here safe and sound.”
“This isn’t the direction you want to go in, Calderone,” Poveri warns. “Put the gun on the ground and let the woman go. Then put your hands on your head and let us take you to the station peacefully.”
“I have no intention of letting you do any of that, captain. I’m sorry to burst your little bubble.”
Captain Poveri scowls. “You have no choice! You’ll be surrounded. You’ll never escape, no matter how big and powerful you think you are. Bigger mobsters than you have been taken down.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Il Diavolo says, backing us up even more. “You come any closer and guess what? This beautiful, intelligent woman loses her life.”
“You wouldn’t hurt her!” Baron blurts out. “You’re in love with her, Mr. Calderone! Everyone at Metro could see it as clear as day!”
Tension cords Il Diavolo at Baron’s words. I feel it as I’m pressed up against him, held tight by the arm around my waist.
He doesn’t like to hear about Rafael’s feelings for me; he likes it even less when they refer to him as Rafael.
“You have the wrong guy,” he says. “I’m not him, and I’ll do what I have to to survive. Stay where you are and nobody gets hurt.”
We keep backing up until we’ve reached the sidewalk where the limousine he’d asked to circle the area is parked half a block down.
“It was nice conversing with you, officers,” Diavolo taunts. “But as you can see, we have a ride to catch.”
27
DIAVOLO
The sirens wail behind us,multiplying with every block, a shrill melody that follows us wherever we go. The limo tears through the downtown streets, racing past traffic lights and cutting between clusters of yellow-cab taxis. Tires screech as other drivers swerve out of the way and slam on their brakes to avoid a collision.
We run a red light, then hang a sharp left, narrowly dodging a delivery truck. My limo driver swears out loud, sweat on his brow. Portia’s sliding from one end of the limo to the other with every wild turn, every abrupt maneuver we pull.
I grab her by the arm, hoping to anchor us as we make another insane turn in effort to ditch the cops and the entire limo veers off to one side.
But there’s no ditching the police. Not once an active chase is underway.
Captain Poveri has already called in his reinforcements, more squad cars popping up on every street trying to cut us off.
Which means now it’s time for me to call in mine.
“Four blocks out,” I bark into my phone, adrenaline pounding in my veins. “There’s a building on Franklin in construction. It has a huge underground parking garage and tunnel that leads to the highway. We need to create a fake out. Get your asses over immediately.”
My men, ever loyal and dutiful, vow to be ready in a matter of minutes. All we have to do is stall for a couple more blocks, then make it onto the construction site.
The building is a huge new tower for an investment firm owned by Archibald Warner, a business partner of mine. It cost a cool twenty million to construct and will be yet another statement piece added to the skyline of Newport.
But I don’t give a fuck about any of that in the moment—all that matters right now is the fact it’s the perfect spot near enough to my penthouse for my men to make it there quick, huge enough to make myself disappear in with its large grounds and fifty-four floors, and provides a viable distraction thanks to the underground tunnel.
I’ve still got to be realistic about how this could end. Most gangsters faced with this kind of situation, trying to go toe-to-toe with the police, don’t make it out alive. If they do, they wind up in an orange jumpsuit behind bars serving twenty to life.
There’s a good chance that could be my fate tonight. I could be going down on a night that wassupposedto be one of the better ones.
…I was supposed to enjoy my time with Portia. I’d been hoping she’d enjoy her time with me.
Itwasa good night until this happened—we’d finally been on the same page, finally able to let down the walls and be a little more open.
I’d finally accepted the fact that… he and I did have one thing in common, and that was Portia James.
Before I thought I wanted the woman to crush her, destroy her, then off her as discussed with Don Vito. That’s gradually changed, and I’ve found myself as infatuated with her as he is.
