by Morgan James
Baby Incarnato.
I lifted my gaze to Jana, who looked like she might cry. “Is this real?”
She wrapped her arms around her stomach—the still-flat stomach that housed our tiny baby—and nodded. “I know we haven’t really talked about it, but...” She shrugged helplessly.
“Jana...” My voice started to break, and I cleared my throat as I stepped forward and pulled her to me. “This is the best Christmas present ever.”
“Really?” She stared up at me.
“Really.”
She looked thrown. “You never said anything.”
“I didn’t want to pressure you.” I grinned at her and pressed one hand to her middle. “This is fucking incredible.” I held out the frame and looked at it again. “How far along are you?”
“About eight weeks.” She placed her hand over mine where it rested on her belly. “I had the ultrasound taken the day before we left. I was going to wait until we got back home, but...”
“This was perfect.” I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her, long and slow. We would have dozens of Christmases in our future, and I looked forward to every single one with Jana and as many babies as we were blessed with. I pulled back and grinned down at her. “I was happy before, but this? This is only the beginning.”
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR reading Heart of a Devil! I hope you love Vince and Jana as much as I do. If you enjoyed this story, don’t forget to check out my other sexy alphas and their sassy heroines in the Quentin Security Series!
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Sneak Peek at Pretty Little Lies
Chapter 1
Giuliana
The first footfall made my heart beat double-time, and I inhaled deeply, trying to slow its rapid pace.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Two hours.
Seven thousand, two hundred beats.
Once, I’d counted each and every one. But the higher I counted, the more anxious I became. I clenched my eyes closed tighter and drew in a deep, calming breath, trying to bring the sights and sounds of the beach back into focus. I could feel the heat of the sun on my skin, the shifting of the grains of sand as I pulled my knees more tightly to my chest. A slight breeze blew in over the ocean, whipping strands of hair across my face, and waves lapped gently at the shore, bringing with them the salty scent of the ocean.
The vibration of another footstep against the hard floor ripped me from my reverie, and I tightened my hold on my legs. The footsteps drew closer, and I reluctantly opened my eyes. Darkness pressed in around me, and my heart kicked into overdrive as my chest rose and fell on shallow, uneven breaths. The air inside the tiny closet felt thick and hot, making it hard to breathe.
The door suddenly flew open, and I blinked against the rectangle of light. My uncle’s form was outlined in the garish glow, and I forced myself not to flinch away from him. I wished I could physically retreat to my beach as I’d done in my daydreams. It’d become a coping mechanism for me, much like soldiers or agents who used such mental tactics when captured and tortured.
“Get up.”
My knees ached as I unfolded myself from the floor. It took a moment for the blood to resume flowing normally after hours of being cramped up, and I felt a bit light-headed as I leaned one shoulder against the wall. The closet was my uncle’s favorite form of abuse; he knew how much I hated dark, enclosed spaces. It wasn’t the first time he’d punished me this way—but it would be the last. All because I’d asked to leave the house.
Uncle Massimo’s face twisted into a sneer, and he spun on a heel as if disgusted by the sight of me. My heart clenched in my chest, knowing that it was probably true, though I was unsure exactly why he felt that way. I tried so hard to blend into the background, to avoid drawing attention to myself, but I never seemed to escape his notice.
I wiped my clammy hands on my skirt before straightening my shoulders and stepping into his office. My uncle sat behind the wide cherry desk, his expression unreadable as I closed the closet door behind me and turned to face him. No one ever spoke without my uncle’s permission. We stared at each other for a long moment, and my fingers twitched at my sides. It was a nervous tic I couldn’t control, and one that I knew my uncle hated most of all. I’d started picking at my nails soon after my father’s death, and it irked my uncle to no end.
I was, at all times, supposed to be a poised, perfect porcelain doll. Uncle resented me for being the only child of his brother, former capo of the Capaldi family, and I knew his plan was to marry me off. I should’ve been married nearly two years ago, but thanks to my cousin Matteo’s pleading, Uncle agreed to push the wedding back to my twentieth birthday. I had hoped it would be someone in the famiglia that I was comfortable with, at least.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. My birthday was a little over a week away, and Uncle Massimo had arranged my betrothal to Nikolai, a member of the Russian Bratva. The fighting had escalated after Daddy’s death, the death toll climbing each week until Massimo struck a deal with their captain. Nikolai needed a wife; I was to fill that role.
Our marriage was intended to strengthen the bonds between the two families and settle the unrest. That was all fine and good for the others—but what about me? Nikolai was notoriously cruel, and I’d heard stories that made my stomach turn. Matteo said he’d been married twice before. Both women had mysteriously disappeared and, as far as I knew, they’d never been seen or heard from again. I’d pled for my uncle to reconsider, but my efforts were rewarded with two hours spent in the dark, cramped closet I’d just exited.
I barely repressed a shudder. I hated the closet—but I hated the idea of marrying an abusive man more. A white gown hung in my room, just waiting for me to put it on and walk down the aisle for my big day—a day I vowed would never happen.
Uncle met my gaze and lifted a well-manicured dark eyebrow. “Well?”
I swallowed down my unease, once more asking the question I’d dared to bring up more than two hours ago. “I wish to go to the mall today.”
Uncle stared at me for a moment. “Weren’t you just there last week? I seem to remember you spending nearly three hundred dollars last time.”
Three hundred dollars of my money. Though I had technically inherited everything after my father passed, my uncle had taken it upon himself to act as my advisor. What that truly meant was that he owned me. He kept me confined to the house, not allowing me interaction with anyone, not even my own mother. On the rare occasion that I was allowed to leave the house, it was under the intense scrutiny of at least two guards.
He said it was for my safety; I knew better. He wanted to keep me away from everyone—especially anyone who might be able to overthrow his complete and total power over me. Once he married me off, the money that was rightfully mine would go to my new husband—half of it, at least. It was part of the deal that Massimo had struck with Nikolai. I’d be damned if I would be traded like chattel.
Refusing to back down, I pled my case. “It’s for my fashion blog,” I started, and he let out a stifled noise.
He waved one hand in the air. “Isn’t it about time you grow up and give that thing up? No one cares about it anyway.”
I bit my tongue at the slight. I actually did have several hundred followers, but he was right about one thing—I didn’t care about the blog in
the least. It was a front, a necessary evil, and something I had to stick to for the time being. “Please, Uncle,” I requested.
“No.” He picked up his pen again and began to write, the decisive action signaling the end of our conversation. Desperation crawled up my throat.
“Uncle,” I started, then immediately snapped my mouth closed. His cold, dark eyes snapped to mine, and the set of his shoulders told me I’d made a grave mistake. Slowly, he stood from his chair and rounded the desk. His gaze never strayed from mine, and my legs trembled with the urge to run. My heart raced wildly in my chest as each step brought him closer until he was barely a foot away.
“Why must you always learn the hard way, Giuliana?”
I swallowed down the hatred filling me and bit off the response that jumped to the tip of my tongue. Curling my hand into a fist at my side, I dug the nail of my index finger into my thumb. The slight pain helped to ground me.
Unfortunately, my uncle did not miss the movement. With lightning fast speed, he snatched up my wrist and brought it between us. Unfurling my hand, he examined my nails, and a sneer marred his handsome features. “Have you been biting your nails again?”
My hand shook where he held it, and I stumbled over my words. “I... I’ve been trying not to, Uncle.” His grip tightened on my wrist, and I knew I would have bruises from those long fingers pressed against my skin.
“Haven’t I told you how much I despise that habit?”
“I’m sorry—” I started, but he cut over me.
“How do you expect a man like Nikolai to marry you when you look so filthy all the time?”
The sharp barb sent a pain through my chest, but I refused to rise to his bait.
“I asked you a question!” In a move that took my breath away, Uncle released my hands and gripped my biceps. With a hard shove, he slammed me against the wall. A spark of pain shot through my head, sending a shower of black spots swirling before my eyes. Before I could recover and even contemplate formulating a response, he released me, throwing me to the side and off-balance. I stumbled and fell, unable to get my hands in front of me in time. My head struck the sideboard on the way down, and pain shot through me as I crumpled to the floor.
Uncle Massimo pressed a polished Italian loafer to my throat, and I clawed at his leg, trying to get him to release me. My lungs burned and my throat ached as he slowly cut off the oxygen. Finally he stepped away and shook his head. “Worthless.”
I scrambled away, clutching my throat and pressing my back to the wall, putting as much distance between us as possible. I didn’t know why he hated me so much, but I knew that, despite his tendency to hurt me, he would never kill me. I was worth much more to him alive.
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers and adopted a casual pose before speaking. “You may go. Be sure to get a dress for your engagement party.”
My mind muddled, I managed to choke out the words, “Engagement party?”
“That’s right.” A snake-like smile curved his mouth. “Nikolai will be here for dinner after mass on Sunday. You’ll want to make a good impression.”
“B-but—”
With one swift move, my uncle closed the distance between us and wrapped a hand around my aching throat. He lifted me to my feet and slammed my back against the wall. “It is done. Your sacrifice will unite us with the Russians. There has been much unrest, and your marriage will be seen as a peace offering. We’ve been at odds too long. You are the key to our success.” He released me and stepped away.
Fury burned through me, and I longed to scream at him. Biting my tongue, I dipped my head in a portrait of submission. It would do no good to argue with him. A long moment later, I flinched as his hand moved under my chin and directed my gaze to his.
“Clean yourself up before you go. And get a manicure while you’re out. Your nails look disgusting.”
I lifted my chin. “I’d planned to..., sir.”
His dark eyes flared at the inflection—and complete lack of respect—in that last word. His thumb and forefinger tightened on my chin. “One of these days, Giuliana, you will push too far. Perhaps Nikolai will teach you some manners.”
With that last parting shot, he thrust my chin away from him and strode back to his desk. Without another look at me, he settled into his chair and resumed his work.
I used the opportunity to silently slip out of the office before I let any tears fall. I hurt all over, my pride included, but I refused to let him see me cry. I wouldn’t show weakness. Head held high, I made my way past the guards stationed at the office door and started toward my room. Matteo stepped out of the shadows and grabbed my wrist, pulling me to a halt. Skin still tender, I yanked my hand out of his grasp and massaged the sore flesh.
My cousin’s eyebrows drew together, and he gingerly touched my hand. “What happened?”
The same thing that always happens.
I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”
Anger replaced his concern. “Did he hurt you?”
“Please don’t say anything,” I begged. It would just make it worse for both of us if Matteo put himself in the middle.
Matteo let out a hiss. “That bastard. I should kill him.”
Neither of us were exempt from my uncle’s cruel actions, and I knew Matteo would be punished worse if he stood up in my defense. I placed a hand on his shoulder. “My birthday is next week.”
“Like I could forget,” my cousin replied bitterly. “Did he say anything about it?”
I nodded. “Y-yes.” I shakily drew a shuddering breath. “My engagement party is this Sunday.”
Matteo’s eyes flared wide before sympathy infused the dark brown deaths. He pulled me into a hug and spoke next to my ear. “Oh, principessa. I would stop it if I could.”
His hold was too tight, and his sympathy nearly broke me. I eased out of his hold. “Everything will be fine,” I promised. At least, I hoped that was the case.
Back in my room, I selected a large handbag and shoved the clothes I’d purchased last week into the very bottom before covering them with a magazine then draping a chic, decorative scarf over the side. I didn’t want to stuff it too full and draw any attention to it, so I only selected the most expensive items. A knot had begun to form on my forehead from where I’d struck the sideboard, and I brushed my bangs to one side to cover it.
Gianni and Tommy fell into step beside me as I approached the front door and walked to the car. My leg bounced nervously the whole drive, and I finally let out a small sigh of relief when we reached the small boutique. The owner, Lila, smiled at me as we entered. She was the one person I could count on to always brighten my day, and I returned her heartfelt smile. She greeted me with a hug, and we immediately began to select items from the racks. Blatantly ignoring the two bodyguards lurking by the front door, Lila and I made small talk as we searched. I spoke loudly and exuberantly about what I’d planned for this week’s blog, hoping the men would tune me out.
Lila tossed a couple new items over her arm. “Let’s try these first and see what you think.”
Casting a look out of the corner of my eye at Tommy, I followed her to a dressing room in the back of the store. Lila entered first and hung up the clothes then turned to me as I entered. Her lips pressed into a firm line as she glanced at my forehead. She gave a slight shake of her head but didn’t say a word; she just held out her hand and waited for me to retrieve the clothes I’d shoved into the bottom of my bag.
“Thank you for doing this,” I whispered to her.
With an abrupt nod, she exited the dressing room and moved behind the counter, taking the items with her. I let out a deep breath as I closed the curtain behind her. One step closer.
I took my time trying on the clothes, not wanting to draw any attention to myself. Lila spoke to me through the curtain as I changed, and I stepped out to view myself in the three-way mirror when I was done. We examined the outfit for a moment, and I let Lila take a few pictures for my blog before deciding it was
time for the next ensemble.
“Can you help unzip me?” I asked, just loudly enough for the men to hear.
“Of course,” she replied, stepping into the dressing room behind me and closing the curtain. Lila unzipped the dress, and I turned around to face her. She held out several bills and I smiled gratefully as I slipped them from her fingers.
“You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”
“There’s a bag of clothes in the back hallway,” she whispered. “Nothing fancy, just the basics to get you through,” she said.
Impulsively, I pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you so much.”
“I’ll miss you,” she said, her eyes shiny with tears.
“Someday, I promise I’ll repay you,” I said.
She waved off my concern. “Just be safe.”
With one last quick hug, she was gone, and I knew it was the last time I would ever see her. I listened for a moment as Lila kicked up conversation with Tommy. I quickly changed into the nondescript yoga pants and long-sleeved shirt she’d left for me and grabbed my bag. Leaving my heels behind, I slipped into the ballet flats I’d stowed in my purse. Sliding the curtain to one side, I peeked out. Gianni was staring at his cell phone, one foot crossed over the other as he leaned against the wall near the entrance of the store. Tommy was turned slightly away from me as he flirted with Lila.
Taking a deep breath, I slunk out of the dressing room and angled toward the back door. The knob turned easily under my fingertips, and I pushed it open just far enough for me to slide through, then closed it quietly behind me. The door exited into a dimly lit service hallway used for deliveries and for Lila to come and go each day. Try not to rustle the bag, I scooped up the clothes that Lila had left for me and sent up one more silent thank you. Moving silently but quickly down the hallway, I exited into the back parking lot, keeping my head low.
I glanced around and found the car I was looking for. Lila’s boyfriend had arranged the purchase of the small blue Cavalier and had left it in the back of the parking lot for me. I forced myself not to run even though my heart beat wildly, sure that I would be caught at any moment. I opened the rear door and tossed the clothes inside, along with my purse, before climbing into the driver seat. I closed and locked the door, then fished around under the floormat for the key. Shoving it into the ignition, I waited a heart-stopping second for the engine to turn over. As soon as it caught, I shifted into gear and pulled slowly out of the parking lot. Knuckles white, I curled my fingers around the steering wheel and turned onto the main drag.
