The Devil’s Plaything: A Dark Mafia Romance

by René, Dani

  “No,” I tell her. “I’m waiting for you.”

  She finally lifts her mischievous stare to mine. “Oh?” She’s playing coy, which only solidifies my need to know what happened. I fist my hands, feeling the bite of pain from my nails digging into my palms.

  “We need to talk.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  “It is.” I sigh, pushing up from my chair, I round the desk and make my way to the liquor cabinet where I grab two tumblers and fill one with whiskey and the other with fruit juice from the bar fridge I keep in my office. I hand her the juice while I gulp down the alcohol. “I need to know what he did, juguete.”

  “Why?” She turns angry, closed off, and it doesn’t help with my temper that’s slowly burning through my veins. It’s the passion I have to protect her, and the need I have to kill someone for her pain.

  “Because if you don’t tell me, I might feel guilty about killing the fucker,” I bite out, finally admitting that he’s dead.

  “You killed him?” Sofía’s eyes widen in shock, as she regards me. I head back to the bar, because I know this is going to take more than just one shot of whiskey. I swallow down another mouthful of burning liquid before I pour a third measure.

  “Of course, I did.” I shrug, pouring another shot, before turning my attention to her once more. “No man touches what’s mine, and I made it very clear that you are mine, Sofía.” She’s on her feet, closing the distance between us, and this is the closest I’ve been to her since she got back from the hospital.

  “I-I…” She shakes her head slowly, her gaze trained on the floor. Her expression is filled with despondency that eats away at my soul. I reach for her, expecting her to flinch, but she doesn’t. I tip her head back with my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me.

  “Tell me.”

  “He… He raped me,” she confesses, and rage I’ve never felt before surges through every pore, every vein, and every nerve in my body. I swallow hard, clenching my jaw to keep from breaking something. I want to punch a hole in the fucking concrete wall, and I know the rage I feel will break through it. “He told me… He said I was nothing. He made me bleed and then he laughed.” Her words are mumbled, whispered so lightly that I can barely hear her.

  I take a step back, nearing the bar, and spin on my heel to look away from her, before I swipe my arm across the countertop, sending the bottles of alcohol crashing to the ground. The echo of shattering glass bounces off the walls, and my office door flies open. Javier enters, without asking, and he’s at my side in seconds, his gaze flitting between Sofía and me.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Javier is shaking my shoulder, and when I meet his gaze, I lock on those blue eyes and convey my pain with a single look.

  He nods.

  Understanding.

  Valentina is next to enter with cleaning supplies, and I turn to Sofía, pulling her behind me as I lead her through the hallways. She doesn’t say a word, there’s one thing I’m going to do right now and that’s show her who the fuck she belongs to. I’m going to make her forget that piece of shit and I’m going to reclaim her, cleanse her of the pain he put her through.

  We reach my bedroom, our bedroom, and I stop just inside the threshold. Kicking the door shut, I step away from the exit and look at her.

  “Take off your dress,” I command, as I make quick work of discarding my own shirt, then my slacks and boxer briefs.

  “Why? What are we doing?”

  “I’m going to heal your broken heart,” I tell her. “Because you’re mine and this is going to be the only time that I will offer you a gentle love making.” It’s a promise. A vow. She slowly sheds her dress, and I find her naked underneath the flimsy material.

  Offering her my hand, I wait for her to accept. The softness and delicate touch of her hand is intoxicating. I lead her into my bathroom. Twisting on the taps of the shower, I wait a short moment for it to heat up, before I take her hand once more and lead her into the tiled space.

  We’re both under the spray when I reach for my body wash, it smells of spice and cinnamon. Gently, I fill my hand with a dollop and proceed to wash her. Every fucking inch of her perfect body, including the scar that adorns her chest. I touch her as if she were fragile.

  From head to toe, she’s lathered up, bubbles all over her tanned frame. Her eyes are wide, wet, and I can see the etchings of pain in her gaze as she watches me. I drop to my knees once I’ve rinsed the soap off her.

  “Lean against the wall,” I tell her from the ground, and she obeys silently. I spread her legs, hooking one over my shoulder, and I lean in to inhale her cunt. My tongue darts out, and I lap her entrance, tasting the sweetness of the woman I love.

  Her hands tangle in my wet hair, and I continue working her body. With one finger, I slowly stroke her folds, opening her to my ministrations as I dip the digit inside her core. She’s warm, tight, and she cries out when I push inside her all the way to my knuckles.

  “Please, Victor,” she cries. “I don’t know if I can.”

  I look up at her, meeting her eyes. “Yes, you can, because you’re my strong, beautiful queen,” I tell her. I pump my finger in and out as I suck on her clit, grazing the bundle of nerves with my teeth, and I feel her pulse around my finger.

  “Oh god, Victor,” she moans, when I add a second finger, moving slowly. I’m close to coming myself just from the tension that’s twisting in my gut. I love this woman with a ferocity I’ve only ever felt with her.

  Her fingers tug at my hair, pulling me closer, and I give her more. It’s then that her hips move. She rides my finger and tongue, taking her pleasure. I look up to see her head fall back as she cries out my name over and over again.

  Her release drips from her cunt, and I lap it up like it’s my last remaining sustenance. She drenches me, and I smile at her when she looks down at me. A small, shy smile dances on her lips, and she whispers, “Thank you.” And I know we’re going to be okay.

  * * *

  I’ve left Sofía to sleep; she needed the rest, and I’m in the office, planning out the takeover of all Rodrigo’s men, his customers, and anyone who worked with him. The asshole is gone, and his legacy will be forgotten once I’m done with it.

  “Hey.” My beauty walks into my office once more, and I’m on my feet and closing her in a hug within a few long strides. She’s wearing a knee-length summer dress, which makes me want to do more than just hug her, but I know I need to take it slow. What she went through is something no woman should ever experience.

  “I’m sorry I left you, I had work to do.”

  “It’s okay,” she tells me. “Thank you for… I mean, thank you for the shower.”

  “I’m sorry I lost my temper earlier,” I whisper into her hair, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “The anger that was burning me was something I’ve never experienced before. Not even when I’ve killed. I needed you to know that you’re mine and that what happened to you is something we will work through together.”

  Her gentle eyes lock on mine. “Thank you, Victor. I felt…” She shakes her head as she considers her words. “I felt dirty, broken.”

  “You’re neither of those things. I love you so much, juguete.” I use the nickname I gave her since the moment she walked into my life, not to humiliate her, but to show her just how much I crave her to be everything to me. “You are my life, my love, my fucking queen. You’re beautiful, you’re strong, and you will rise.”

  “You’re so sure.”

  “I am,” I affirm. “Because I’ve watched you grow since you walked in here as a young girl. You’re a woman, a warrior.”

  “But still your juguete?” Her dark brow arches, causing me to chuckle. There’s a small flicker of the flames that would always dance in her eyes, and I pray they return to the inferno that I know will take over not only her life, but mine. Because I bask in her fire.

  “Eres el aire que respire,” I tell her—you’re the air I breathe.

  She smile
s, and it lights up the whole goddamned room. “Y tu eres el fueo que me mantiene caliente.” Her words—And you are the fire that keeps me warm—makes my heart soar.

  “I have something for you,” I tell her, leading her to the desk. Pulling out the small box, I drop to a knee in front of her and pop the lid. “You will be my wife, my queen, my forever.”

  A gasp falls from her mouth as she stares at the ring. It’s simple, elegant, and classic. A diamond just like her.

  “That wasn’t a question, Diablo.” She laughs.

  “I don’t need to ask you because I know you will say yes.”

  Another laugh, which makes me smile. But she doesn’t refuse. Instead, she holds out her hand, and I slip the ring on her finger.

  A perfect fit.

  Just like us.

  37

  Sofía

  The ring doesn’t feel real on my finger as I twist it back and forth. But it’s the only thing that grounds me to the chair.

  “Sofía?” The gentle tone of the doctor drags my attention to her. She’s looking at me with sadness in her eyes, and it grips my heart painfully. Victor insisted I see her, he even wanted to be here, in the session with me. But I told him I’m strong enough to do this on my own. For now, at least.

  “He had me chained to a bed,” I tell her, and she doesn’t flinch. She’s probably heard much worse in her line of work. “He called me names, said… he sounded so… satisfied.”

  “Men like that enjoy the control they have, the violent tendencies that come with the act is how they… get off. And when they see the fear in your eyes or see your body trembling, that’s what they need to find satisfaction.”

  I nod. I know this, and I should appreciate her trying to talk me through it, but I feel frustrated. “He used me, I bled.” I blink, one, twice, and then the waterworks start. “I wanted Victor there, I prayed so hard.” The pain of what happened, the memory of Rodrigo is still there as if he were lying on top of me, forcing himself inside me.

  As much as I know Victor wants to help heal me, I know it won’t happen overnight. The trauma is still fresh in my mind.

  “And when Victor didn’t get there on time… Were you angry at him?”

  Shaking my head, I respond, “No, I wasn’t because I knew he would come for me. And when he did, he didn’t look at me as if I were broken.”

  “But you felt broken.”

  “Of course, I did.” My voice raises higher than I want it to, but she doesn’t say anything. “I felt betrayed, but in some way, I understand that I’m not responsible for it. I don’t blame myself, and I don’t blame Victor. I know that R-R-R…” I shake my head because I can’t say his name out loud.

  “It’s okay, Sofía,” she tells me with a kind smile. “It takes time, and we’ll work through this. One day at a time.” Her reassurance calms me slightly. “You know, I think that you have a good man who loves you, and after a few sessions with me, I would recommend him sit in once you’re ready.”

  I nod. “Yes. We can do that.” My voice cracks. “Will I always feel… tainted?”

  “Not always, I think over time, you’ll realize how you’re not to blame. You didn’t ask for it. Most victims think it’s their fault, but the broken mind of the assailant is the culprit.”

  “I want Victor to be able to touch me, I want to be able to touch myself without feeling dirty.” I feel lost. I feel alone even though I know I have people who care for me. And I hate that loneliness that seeps into my veins.

  “I know. And that will come. It’s something you slowly work toward. If it happens too fast, it may trigger you. Start slow. Tell me what you felt when Victor arrived?”

  “Relief. Happiness.”

  “And do you know what he did to the man who attacked you?” she questions, not mentioning the name of my rapist either, and I’m thankful for that.

  “He took care of it,” I tell her. Victor told me she’s worked for his father, and him, for years. She knows what they do, so she isn’t someone who would be shocked by his actions.

  “And how do you feel about it?”

  “Relief. Happiness.” It’s like those are the only two emotions that I can feel right now. And in some way, I think it’s good, but I’d also like to find my way back to me. “But I want more. I know it’s only been a few weeks, but I feel like I should be stronger.”

  “It takes time to overcome a trauma,” Dr. Santiago tells me with a gentle smile. “I’m here to help you through it. And you will get through it.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  “You will, Sofía. Tell me about that night? Are you still having nightmares?”

  “I am. There are some nights I wake up in a cold sweat, it’s as if I’m right back there. As if I’m still being used, bound and helpless.”

  “The helpless feeling is normal, what you’re experiencing is normal.” I watch her make notes in her book, then she looks back at me. “I’ve had clients who’ve been through the same thing, and they’ve overcome it, just like you will.”

  “I’m meant to be planning my wedding,” I tell her. “He loves me so much.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Yes, of course.” My response has no doubt in it. There was never a question about my love for Victor. And I know his feelings are the same. After the betrayal of him sending me to that asshole, he’s made up for it by being there for me twenty-four-seven.

  “And when you look at yourself in the mirror, who is it you see? Sofía Montero or Victor Cordero’s wife?” I frown at her question, my mind drawing a blank for a moment, but then I realize what she’s trying to do.

  “They’re one and the same. I’m Sofía Montero, soon-to-be Mrs. Cordero.”

  “And you’re a strong woman who is stepping up to sit beside a Cartel leader.” Her voice has a hint of pride in it, and I can’t help but smile, just a little.

  “Yes.”

  “A queen can heal from any wound,” she tells me, and I know in that moment, she’s right. I will get better, I may not be the girl I once was, but I’ll be a woman who is stronger than ever before.

  38

  Sofía

  One month later

  Victor’s office door whooshes open, and a woman walks in. I recognize her immediately. I saw her once when I was here as a prisoner. She tried to lay a silent claim to Victor, but she seems to have moved on because she’s wearing a large diamond ring on her left hand.

  Camila.

  “You’re quite the talk of the town, princess,” she says, as she strolls forward on her four-inch heels. Her dress shimmers in the dim light of the office, and I smile at her, satisfaction painted on my face.

  “It seems everyone needs royalty in their lives. Perhaps they wanted someone they could look up to alongside their king.”

  The corner of her mouth twitches, her eyes don’t hide the venom that’s she’s so clearly wanting to throw my way, but nothing can change the fact that Victor chose me over her. I’m not here for a cat fight, but if it came down to it, I’d claw her eyes out if she even attempted to take my man.

  “I’ve come to return Victor’s key,” she tells me, keeping her expression schooled and her voice cold. Her disdain for me dances in her gaze, and I allow her to see that I’m unaffected by her attempt at pushing a barrier between us.

  “Thank you. He did tell me to take out the trash when I was done with his office,” I inform her, snapping the key from her blood red fingertips. “I trust you know the way out.”

  “I was the one promised to him.”

  “And I am the one he chose.” I rise to full height, stalking around the large mahogany desk that Victor just fucked me on an hour ago before he left for a meeting. I settle on the edge, my arms crossed over my chest as I regard her in a challenge.

  “You won’t last,” she tells me.

  “And why is that?”

  “You’re too soft. Nothing like the women who Victor is used to. And you wouldn’t be able to stomach having to kill someone if
you had to.”

  “I’ll gladly pick up one of Victor’s knives right now and show you just how soft I am. Shall I demonstrate?” Tipping my head to the side, I regard her through a narrowed gaze. I want her to force my hand, my blood burns hot in my veins. If she wants a fight, I’ll happily give her one.

  She allows her stare to trail over me, as if she’s assessing me to see if I’m capable. I can assure her, I am. Victor and I have been training every day. He’s been in the gym with me, showing me how to fight, how to take a man down, and how to use a blade.

  I love the way he teaches me, taunting me while educating me. Camila shakes her head, dipping her chin in a show of respect. “I apologize for my rudeness,” she says, her eyes locked on mine, even though her chin is bowed.

  “You can leave now,” I tell her, with a wave of my hand, and watch as she stalks out of the office. Moments later, Javier saunters in dressed in a sleek black suit that hugs his muscled frame.

  “What did she want?” He asks, unbuttoning his jacket before settling in the chair opposite the desk. He looks elegant, as if he were heading out for an awards ceremony in Hollywood.

  “She was returning the key to the apartment she was staying in,” I tell him, as I settle in Victor’s chair.

  Javi smiles. “You look good on the throne,” he appraises, gesturing to me in the chair. I’ve sat behind this desk a few times, but today is the first time I’m sitting here as Victor’s soon-to-be fiancée. He didn’t want to make a big show of it, but I know he’s planning something that’s going to blow my mind.

  He loves surprises, and he loves to taunt me with them. “Thank you.” I smile at Javier. “I never thought you would be the one to tell me that.”

  He shakes his head. “I had to look out for him. I’ve seen him heart broken, I’ve seen him violent with rage over it, and I never wanted to see that again. He may be a cold-hearted monster that could kill without flinching, but when it comes to matters of the heart, he has the biggest one.”