Mistress to a Monster

When he was a young boy of about eleven, his parents went away on a honeymoon, leaving him at home with his grandfather. Now, his grandfather was a cruel man, but to his grandson, he wasn’t. Damon liked his grandfather, even if he didn’t agree with the man’s methods most of the time, if at all. The De Lucas always had enemies. Not just the Russo, but far and wide. One night, the house was attacked. Some of the guards had turned against his grandfather because of his cruel treatment of them, and it had put them all in danger.

Damon had nearly been killed, but his father had shown him how to hunt, and killing had been natural to him.

His grandfather had been proud to see the men who had attempted to kill him dead on the floor. As a reward, he got to see what they did to the enemy. It was the first time he watched his grandfather torture.

“To survive in this world, Damon, you need to be willing to do the unthinkable. To be willing to hurt those who would take from you. The more people fear you, the greater you will become.”

After Damon threw a bucket of water onto the chef, he came to, screaming, gasping, begging.

Damon wasn’t done teaching this man a lesson. He didn’t want to think about why he was so angry. Why it bothered him that this man would dare to serve a Russo dog shit or poison. Milah had nothing to do with this.

With every passing hour, it was hard to think of her as a Russo. Her actions didn’t scream of it.

Anyone else would have allowed her mother’s guards to be killed. Her father would be furious to know what she could do. He had no doubt. Russo hated powerful women. It was why none of his closest allies were women.

Damon didn’t mind a strong woman, even a powerful one. Milah being able to hold her own against him was something he greatly admired.

He stared at the chef, and with a final slash across his throat, he ended his miserable existence. He waited and watched the life slowly drain out of him before he stepped back.

After stripping out of his bloodstained clothes, he washed his hands in the sink and then grabbed a fresh pair of pants and a shirt to change into. His men were already dealing with the body.

He left the basement and went straight to his office to pour himself a drink. Taking the first sip, he moved toward the sofa as his cell phone rang.

Damon reached for it as he took a seat, seeing Raoul on the line. Raoul was his closest friend and ally when it came to his initial takeover after his father passed. He was the one who helped sniff out all the possible traitors, intent on taking his position, and there had been a lot of them. More than Damon cared to remember.

“What do you have for me?” he asked.

“Russo is trying to reach out to your enemies. He is attempting to overthrow your power. I’ve also heard word that he is trying to get a message to his daughter about the instructions he wants her to do while she is with you.”

“And what are those instructions exactly?” Damon asked.

“To find your weak spot. To worm her way into your heart and to expose you for the weakling he believes you to be.”

Damon chuckled. “Really? Do we know who will be the messenger?”

“That is where I’m having difficulty. I’m not sure exactly who it is. My sources don’t know either.”

Damon tensed up. “Someone in our guards.”

“That’s what I’m figuring.”

This was … infuriating. He looked at his office door, and now he had to deal with a potential in-house traitor. This pissed him off.

Sipping at his whiskey, he tsked and leaned forward to put the glass on the coffee table.

“Anything else?”

“Sources tell me he’s trying to figure a way of breaking into her mother’s inheritance. Milah Russo is a very rich woman, but until she reaches the right age and circumstances, no one can gain access to those funds.”

“Do we know what age and circumstances are?”

“No. No one does.”

“I’ve got Genius working on the finer details of everything.” Not that he needed the money, but he had to gain ultimate control of everything that once was owned by a Russo. Her mother had gained the name through marriage, and he doubted it was a happy one. Still, her assets were a potential liability to his plan.

“I’ll keep an eye here. I will have more information for you in a few days.” He didn’t hang up but hesitated for a few seconds.

“What is it?”

“How … is she?” Raoul asked.

Damon gritted his teeth as he thought about the wildcat staying in his home. “She is … everything I said she was.”

“And you still intend to go through with your plan?”

“Nothing is going to stop me.”

“You do know you can stop this whenever you want. All you’ve got to do is take control. No one is forcing you to do this.”

“She is a Russo.”

“From what my sources tell me, Milah was never a Russo. Not in spirit, but by blood, that was all.”

Damon had heard enough. “Call me when you know more.” He ended the conversation and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Exhaustion swept over him as he thought about the coming few months.

He needed everything to fall into place before he ended Antonio Russo, and he couldn’t wait to be the man to finally kill him. Then his family would be able to rest in peace. There would be no more retaliation.

Getting to his feet, he left his office and made his way toward his bedroom. He’d already asked for James to collect Milah for him.

He wasn’t in the mood for much discussion, but he liked looking at her pretty face.

After stripping out of his clothes, he tossed them into the laundry basket, not caring that he’d only worn them for a short time. He stepped beneath the shower’s spray of cold water, not allowing his mind to drift or focus on anything but the present.

Antonio Russo had someone here, watching and waiting. He should have known. Some men didn’t have the strength to resist temptation, but the question was, what? What could he bribe his men with? Irritation gnawed at him.

He wanted to fucking kill Russo. The temptation was strong. It would be so easy. Just the swiftest swipe of his blade, and he’d be dead.

Ended.

So easy.

So quick.

But he needed to make sure no one else would rise up. Antonio hadn’t been a faithful husband. There were bastard Russos running around, which he would have to deal with if they posed a potential threat. Milah didn’t know she had a brother the same age as her, or a few that were younger. He would have to deal with them all.