Devil You Hate (The Diavolo Crime Family 1)

“Rough Day?” I ask, stepping into his sanctum.

He’s decorated his little place in maroons and golds. There’s a solid couch in one corner, where he usually sleeps. More wood and stainless steel make up a small kitchen to the side. There’s a bathroom in the back with a similar color palette. But near the door, against a glass wall showing the entire warehouse, is a bank of computers Soo wields effortlessly to conduct his business. And mine.

He shuffles over and hands me a bottle of water. “The usual. Seen Lucas?”

I shrug, not wanting to admit to yet another argument between us, resulting in Lucas running off to sulk. Or dismember someone. I guess we’ll find out soon enough. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. I’ll send him to come find you when he shows his face at the house again.”

Soo nods and hops up onto his counter. His bare feet dangle over the edge. His gray sweats and white T-shirt tell me he is about to go to bed, and I’ve interrupted. Not the first time, and it won’t be the last. He’s grown accustomed to my strange hours by now.

“We need to discuss plans,” I say. “Some things have changed since our little run-in with the Gardello kid.”

Soo nods and crosses his arms over his chest. There’s a faraway look in his eyes, and I let him have a moment to think. It usually pays off.

“You still want to go through with this plan? Once the five catch wind of your auction and the Ricci girl is actually sold, things are going to hit the fan pretty quickly.”

I skirt the edge of his workstation and plop into the rolling chair in front of it. “Of course, I want to continue with the plan. Why the fuck would I bother with a plan if I didn’t intend to see it through?”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Shit changes and plans adapt. We both know that fact well.”

I run my hands through my hair and focus on dulling the sharp edge of my anger that rose to the surface at his chiding tone. “The goal has never changed. This is war, and I want Ricci face down in a puddle of his own blood before I’m through with them all. I don’t care about the other fuckers as much as I do him. Got it?”

Soo holds his hands up in surrender, his water bottle tucked tight into one. “I’m not saying you don’t get revenge for your family. All I’m asking is if you still want to carry out your plan the way we have been heading? As of right now, we might have to move things anyway, if only to remove suspicion from you until you pull off this auction. There are already rumors going around about Celia and the Gardello heir. Some of his brothers are saying he wouldn’t have run off with her. We were counting on that story until we were ready for our big reveal.”

I give him a non-committal noise and roll myself forward to brace my elbows on my knees. “Give me a few hours, I’ll think of something on that to cover our asses.”

“He’s not my only concern,” Soo adds.

I glance up at him and the wary look on his face. “Oh, come on. What the fuck else? Did I come over here to talk plans, or you playing therapist now?”

Soo huffs and sits his water bottle down. His way of giving both of us a minute to think about our next words. “Again, that’s not what I mean. But, I have noticed you’ve been spending some alone time with the girl. You’re growing attached.”

I can’t sit here and listen to him accuse me of… what? “Are you asking me a question or making an observation? What?”

“Maybe I’m drawing your attention to a problem which needs correcting before you carry on with your business.”

I shove out of the chair, cross his kitchen to the bar, and pour myself a glass of amber liquid, not even looking at the labels. Sufficiently fortified, I turn back to my friend. My best friend, I remind myself. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. Everything will continue as planned. The girl will get sold at auction in a couple of days and be the catalyst to bring down the rest of those old bastards.”

Soo nods, but I’m looking at the back of his head, so I can’t see if he believes me or not. It doesn’t matter. He’ll do what I say until I tell him otherwise. He’s always been reliable in that regard, unlike my wayward brother, Lucas, who looks at my plans and somehow interprets them to mean something completely different from what I lay out.

“Did Lucas get the supplies to draw in our special guests?” I ask as I come back around to take my seat again.