Devil You Know (The Diavolo Crime Family 2)

He leans against the opposite counter and digs into his own food. We eat in silence, which I’m thankful for. Once I polish off my food, he crosses the counter and slides an enormous bottle of water toward me. Again, I pounce on it and guzzle a huge amount of the liquid down just in case he tries to take it away.

No longer concerned with food, and a little sleepy, I study him. He looks like Nic in the eyes, but the rest of his features are different. His hair is much lighter, a sort of dirty blond. I think if it wasn’t for his tattoo-covered skin and permanent frown, he would actually look a lot younger.

“Well, I’m here. Should I thank you for saving me from whatever fresh hell my buyer had in store? Or did you bring me here for your own perverse needs?”

His brows pull together, and his nose wrinkles in disgust. “I saved you for myself.”

Ew. Not that he isn’t a handsome man, but no way. He and I had never really hit it off back at the house. I can’t imagine sex would help matters. Not that the Diavolo bastards ever consider giving me a choice in something.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather die than sleep with you.”

I slide off the chair and back away from him, determined to fight this time. When I let Nicolo touch me and didn’t fight, it felt different. Right here and now, all I feel is anger and pain. Nothing like the searing heat Nicolo somehow elicits from my body.

When his eyes narrow at me, his chopsticks halfway to his lips, I scramble to explain. “I know I might have thrown myself at you the other day, offered myself, but it was more about saving my skin from being sold than wanting to sleep with you.” I backtrack a little, trying to maintain the peace.

If I’ve learned anything about Lucas, it’s that he’s a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate. “Not that you don’t have your charms or anything. I just think we wouldn’t be compatible. I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who would love to join your bed, but I’m just not in a great place after your fucking brother’s handling. I can’t even imagine sex with anyone, let alone you.”

His disgust turns palpable as he drops his food into the sink, container, chopsticks, and all. “Did I do some damage when I knocked you on your little head?” He pauses. “I didn’t bring you here to fuck you, Celia. I brought you here to talk to you. To get some answers without my brother breathing down my fucking neck.”

Jesus Christ. My relief is a physical thing lying across my skin in a soothing veil. “Oh. Okay, well, I can answer questions, sure.”

Lucas gives me a questioning look. “You don’t remember what I told you when I retrieved you from the warehouse?”

So, we’re using the word ‘retrieved’ not kidnapped? Is that how Nicolo justifies his actions, too? These fucking men and their need to knock me out and transport me places against my will.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Some of it, maybe?” Thinking back now, I remember him speaking, but not exactly what he said.

He braces his big hands on the counter, tattoos etched on his knuckles. One hand says ‘love,’ the other says ‘hate.’ Charming. “I told you I was your fucking brother.”

The world stops spinning, the floor falls beneath my feet, and it comes back to me now. Bit by bit, the pieces of my memory float down and back into place. The pulsing migraine I woke up with finally makes sense.

“You hit me.”

“Is that any way to talk to your brother?” His words echo through my head.

No… the weight of his confession knocks the wind from my lungs.

“I didn’t think you’d stay still while we escaped. I couldn’t risk you drawing anyone’s attention and getting us caught,” he continues talking, but it’s like his voice is far away now.

Brother. I blink, letting my mind digest what he’s saying.

“You can’t be my brother. You’re lying. This is about control. You want to hurt me, just like your brother did. There is no way we are related.” I take another step away from him.

“Trust me, I didn’t want to believe it either, but we are. I have proof. We are one-hundred percent blood-related.”

My knees give out, and I sink to the floor in a heap. Brother.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. I cover my face with my hands to slow my sudden need to drag in more air. Holy fuck. No.

I glance up at Lucas. His brows are drawn down as he studies me. It looks like he… Well, he cares, which is strange since I’ve never seen him show a shred of compassion toward anyone.