Page 64 of The Diávolos: Part One
“Iama guy like you,” he states.
“Then, you admit you don’t deserve her, either,” I mock. “No wonder she hasn’t loved you back after all these years.”
Gianis balls his fists, and the next thing I know, he is standing mere inches away from me, his face beet red and contorted with rage, holding a knife to my neck. I laugh.
“Do you really think a knife is going to scare me,vlakas? I live for this shit.”
I avert my gaze from him for a second and scan the area back inside the house to see if Dion is still watching. I notice someone else’s stare. Angelica stands behind Dion, frozen in place, her gaze on us.
I can’t make out the expression on her face, but it must be of shock as she notices the knife at my throat. She has no idea Gianis and I are acquainted. I can only imagine what she must be thinking.
I turn my attention back to the man about to explode in front of me. He notices Angelica, too, and a flash of worry crosses his face.
“Come on. Don’t be a pussy, Gianis. Be a man and slit my throat in front of your girl,” I taunt him.
“Watch your fucking mouth,Vasilakis,” he hisses.
I let out another mocking laugh.Finally, someone figured out who I truly am. My uncle did a phenomenal job hiding my true identity. No one else in the city knew my last name. Hell, barely anyone even knows my first name. I always go by theDiávolos, whether I’m doing a business deal or severing heads. As Peter’s enforcer, it’s Gianis’ job to know who I am. He’s probably known for a while. So, it makes me wonder why he hasn’t mentioned it to his boss yet, like he’s keeping this bit of information for a rainy day.What are you planning, Gianis?Regardless, I know the fucker won’t do shit with this information for now.
“Do you think you have leverage by knowing my last name? What are you going to do? Tell her and risk gaining the reputation of a snitch? Come on, Gianis. Don’t be an idiot.”
“Leave her alone, Evander,” he repeats, fury laced in his voice.
No one tells me what to fucking do. I’ve had enough of pretending I don’t want her, that I only need her for my plan. It’s time I claim her for good.
“Íne dikiá mou, Gianis.”She’s mine.“I think you need to accept that from now on. She’ll never be yours, and if you try to stop me, I’ll fucking kill you,” I seethe.
He presses the knife into my neck and the pressure of the blade on my skin is almost arousing. Angelica is still watching us, and I catch Dion trying to talk her down from coming outside. My dick starts growing in my pants. The combination of his blade threatening to pierce my skin, and the look of terror and confusion on Angelica’s face is turning me on. I could easily disarm him, stab him in the gut, and then take my girl, in more ways than one, finally claiming her as mine. But I didn’t come here to fuck her or kill Gianis. He’s a nuisance, but he’s harmless. She’d never forgive me for killing her childhood best friend. Either way, I’ve got bigger fish to fry than a jealous piece of shit.
“You’ve already warned me once on the phone, Gianis. I don’t take threats lightly. So, if I were you, I would get the fuck out of my face and not do it again. It won’t end well for you a third time,” I say, angrily, and I step to the side before heading back inside.
I walk by Dion and come face-to-face with Angelica. I whisper to her in passing, trying not to attract any attention. “Take me somewhere private. Now,” I demand.
“No,” she responds, confidently, her chin lifted in defiance.
My eyes widen. I push my tongue against my bottom lip, pondering. “No? Do you need me to ask nicely, Angelica?” I circle around her. Her body stills, but she doesn't let her gaze follow me. I’m intimidating her.
She doesn’t reply, only shakes her head no. “How about we do something fun? Let’s play a game,” I taunt.
“What’s the game?” she asks, nervously.
“Hide. If I find you, I get to make you scream.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Don’t worry. I will.”
I move to the bar and order a drink. Angelica is frozen in place, her eyes bulging out of her sockets. Her chest heaves and she squeezes her eyes shut. But a moment later, she ducks through the throng of people and heads toward a door being used by the staff. I wait a few seconds before I follow her. When I emerge on the other side, it’s a passageway that leads to the kitchen, lined with various doors. Kitchen and waitstaff walk past me as I look side to side, trying to find Angelica.
I spot her dark hair and the train of her dress disappearing through a door.
When I enter the room, it’s small and there’s nothing other than a library filled with books and two armchairs. The smell of leather and old books hits my nostrils. The shelves go from the floor to the ceiling and the books look weathered. I walk along one of the walls, letting my fingers trace over the spines of aged books and dust flies in the air. It’s silent; only the creaking of my footsteps on the ancient, wooden floors is audible. Where could she be? I’m certain she came in here, but there’s no trace of her.
“Angelica,” I whisper. There’s no response.
I reach the edge of the library and notice a small lever on the side. Old mansions always have secret passages and hidden doors, so this must be one. I lift the handle and part of the shelf disconnects from the rest. I snigger. “I’m going to find you, my little angel,” I say out loud.
I pull the secret door open, and I step into an even greater room. My eyes travel around the space. We’re in a large conservatory that extends onto a patio overlooking the garden. The floor-to-ceiling, partially glazed windows connect to a glass roof. I can faintly hear the commotion of people coming in and out of the property. Angelica stands in the middle of the room, looking outside. The moonlight shines directly on her, accentuating the shine of her emerald gown. She doesn’t turn around to greet me, but I know she senses me.
