Page 74 of Deal with the Devil
Not for the first time, I slept with Il Diavolo. I orgasmed, I moaned, I begged for more.
My body might’ve betrayed me, but so did the twisted desire that rose up inside me and gave in during the darkest moments.
What will Rafael think? How will he feel when he realizes I’ve slept with the same man trying to eliminate him?
Rafael wipes the tears away with his thumbs, brows furrowed and eyes searching mine.
“What’s wrong, dolcezza?”
I shake my head. “Rafael… look at me. Look at us. What we were doing…”
Rafael’s gaze drifts to the bedsheet wrapped around my body, and the general disarrayed state of the bed we’re lying in. The rage clenches onto his features immediately, his face darkening in a way I’ve seen a handful of times before, only worse.
It’s as if he’s reached such a level of rage he’s about to black out, and then—nothing.
The fury vanishes from his face. The life drains from his eyes and the warmth I’d felt only seconds ago is gone.
He goes still, and the quiet that follows tells me all I need to know.
A switch has been flipped somewhere inside him, his expression vacant until it contorts into the cold menace I hoped to never see again. My stomach twists watching him leave me in real time and realizing Diavolo’s returning.
I recoil without thinking, fingers clenching the bedsheet tighter around myself.
Il Diavolo rolls his head on his shoulders like he’s stirred from a nap.
“What’s the matter?” he drawls. “Did lover boy show his face again? Just for a second?”
My heart pounds in my ears. I can’t bring myself to answer him.
He leans forward, grinning wide. “Did you really think he’d be back for good? That was just a fake out, dolcezza. A little taste to keep you desperate.”
“Stop it,” I whisper.
He reaches for me, fingers snaking around my wrist before I can pull away. His grip is firm and possessive as he wrenches me toward him.
“Come here,” he croons. “Give me a kiss.”
“No… don’t touch me!” I twist out of his hold, shoving against his chest.
His grin twists into a scowl, and he jerks back like I’ve struck him harder than I did, clearly offended by the rejection.
“Get out then!” he snarls. “Get the fuck out of my room! RIGHT NOW!”
I scramble backward, nearly tripping over the bedsheet as I stumble out of the bed. In my mad dash to the door, I manage to snatch my piece of lingerie off the floor.
Luckily, Daniela is already waiting for me outside in the hall.
Her eyes are wide as though she already knows what happened inside. She rushes toward me, helping me slide into the lingerie piece, covering me up as necessary.
“I am sorry, Portia,” she says, tutting her tongue. “He is always in one of his moods. I hate when he calls you to his room. It never ends well for you.”
I’m so shaken from everything that’s happened in the span of five minutes, I can’t even bring myself to answer her…
It’s been days since I left this room.
The light shifts through the curtains in soft gradients, but it doesn’t feel real anymore. Time here doesn’t pass so much asstretch. The villa is quietest in this wing, and I’ve grown used to the silence. It wraps around me like a second skin, numb and suffocating all at once.
I sit curled on the window ledge, staring at the same hedges and olive grove I’ve memorized every detail of.
