Page 103 of Devoted

I was zoned out when they lowered me to my side, warm seed gushing out of me, covering my thigh, only half aware of Nico settling behind me, tugging me closer so we were skin to skin.

“Sleep for an hour, then we’ll all go for a swim, and then we’ll do this all over again.” Warm, soft lips pressed against my temple.

“You know I can’t swim,” I reminded him, the words coming out in a slur of sound.

“Then consider today your first official lesson.” He wrapped his arms around me, and the ache in my chest turned to something far more greedy.

Because all I wanted was this moment to last forever.

38

VALERIA DEMENTE

Imaterialized in the central chamber of La Sala and adjusted my sunglasses, frantically scanning the expansive ceiling without appearing obvious, then blew out a trembling breath.

There was nothing above my head except ancient paintings of disapproving saints and cobwebs. I took a moment to shove my sunglasses in my bag and freshen up my lipstick. I’d chosen my favorite Valentino dress for today, wearing the cream turtleneck and cashmere jacket more like armor than couture since these meetings felt more like battles than protocol.

Heading for the council chambers, I nodded to the black-suited guards posted every few feet, nervously eyeing every dark corner.

Those assholes.

I couldn’t believe those fuckers didn’t tell me this place was full of soul-sucking monsters, that they kept something so godsdamned important from me, the person who saved their asses.

They were all gone this morning when I’d woken—presumably on one of their important missions—but when I got back to the villa tonight, I was giving them a piece of my mind. We were allies, damn it; I deserved to know important shit.

Like soul-sucking monsters existed.

Muted voices drifted out of the council chambers, and I sighed, heading toward what was sure to be an interminably boring discussion of politics and finances. Who knew taking over a Dynasty was such tedious business?

I thought these council meetings would be a good way to gather intel to take the fuckers down, but when Blackwood turned every one into a…

I stopped dead in the threshold, shock freezing me in place for one blink before instinct kicked in. I smoothed my face back into an emotionless mask and slammed my mental shields into place. The spread-winged raven that formed the back of the golden chair welcomed me as I slid quietly into my seat, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as a thousand questions flew through my head.

Did they suspect me?

Is this a trap?

Am I well and truly fucked?

At the head of the table, Giovanni DiRavello sat in the Don’s chair, his plump, unremarkable face peering up at Severin as the Master explained… something to him in a hushed tone, hands flying to make his point.

Blackwood sat unbothered to his right, the picture of old-world elegance, his white cravat perfect, embroidered waistcoat a testament to an expensive tailor, his coat perfectly fit across his wide shoulders without so much as a wrinkle. Nothing about his appearance indicated anything out of sorts.

But the ancient male was fuming.

Anger bled from his silver eyes, from the turn of his mouth, from the way one finger tapped on the edge of the table, like a metronome counting down the seconds until an imminent explosion.

Severin finished up and took his seat, giving me a nod. Cool. Informal.

Like two people who barely knew each other.

Not allies working overtime to bring these bastards down.

Fuck.

Should I run? No. That would only make me look guilty. With shaking hands, I pulled out a notebook—the front decorated with bright pink and gold butterflies—rooting around in my purse for a pen, taking my time, trying not to rush.

Giovanni watched with the intensity of a viper, brown eyes like knives, smile even sharper.