Devious: A Dark Mafia Romance (Deviant Series Book 1)

by Angela Snyder

  An old, balding man wins the date with Britney at twenty-three-thousand dollars, and she looks none to pleased at her potential suitor.

  I giggle under my breath as I watch the next sucker get on stage. This time she’s a cute, natural redhead. Her name is Alice, and the men start vying for her with extravagant bids.

  She gets a date with a good-looking banker I’ve seen numerous times before, and it only cost him thirty grand.

  The auction is like a car wreck. I shouldn’t watch, but I just can’t look away. The champagne is making my head fuzzy, and I’m enjoying the show way more than I should.

  “And next up we have Victoria Ciccone.”

  The room grows eerily silent as I stare at the stage in confusion. I must have drunk way too much, because I thought I just heard him say…

  “Victoria Ciccone. Are you out there?”

  The spotlight shines into the crowd, searching…looking for me.

  “Oh, shit,” I mutter under my breath as I quickly slink into the shadows in the back of the room. My father must have signed me up for the auction, unbeknownst to me and without any sort of warning. No wonder he was talking about eligible bachelors being here tonight.

  Well, if he thinks I’m stepping foot on that stage, he’s dead wrong. They can send out a search party for all I care.

  A drunken giggle escapes me as I curse again and run out of the room like my ass is on fire. As I round the corner of the hallway, I run smackdab into something hard that throws me backwards and down onto my ass.

  “Ouch,” I complain as I collide with the hardwood floor. The plastic champagne flute that had been in my hand moments earlier bounces onto the floor beside me. And when I look up to see exactly what I ran into, my breath catches in the back of my throat when I see who I ran into. "Oh, shit," I whimper.

  The man that was in the coffee shop the other day, Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome, is standing there with champagne dripping all over the front of his tailored suit.

  "Fuck," he hisses while staring down at the mess I made. "Why don't you watch where you're going?!" he asks, raising his deep, gravelly voice and causing a shiver to run through me. When his dark green eyes finally meet mine, his thick, dark brows shoot up to his hairline. "You," he says, the anger quickly melting away as he clearly remembers me from the bookstore.

  "I-I'm so sorry. I'll p-pay for your dry cleaning," I stammer, still not believing what an idiotic move I just made.

  He glances down at his suit again and shakes his head. "It's fine." Then, he extends his hand down to mine. "Are you all right? That was some fall."

  I take his hand and allow him to help me up. "Well, it was like hitting a brick wall," I say awkwardly. "Not that you're built like a brick wall…or a brick house or anything like that." I stand there gawking at him with my mouth open like a fish as the song Brick House by the Commodores runs through my mind. Oh my god, what am I even saying?! "I mean, I'm not saying you aren't built. You are very built, but…" I clasp my palm over my mouth to put a stop to my sudden verbal diarrhea.

  Glancing around, I grab a pile of napkins next to a fancy appetizer tray resting on a nearby table. With napkins in hand, I begin to dab at the wet spots on the handsome stranger’s suit, going lower and lower until I realize I’m reaching dangerous territory and accidentally brush against his…

  “Whoa, whoa!” he calls out before taking a step back. “At least let me take you to dinner first,” he jokes darkly with a chuckle.

  “Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” I whisper, completely and utterly mortified and wishing I wouldn’t have drunk all that champagne. I ball the napkins into my fists as I feel the blush of what I can only imagine is the deepest shade of red creeping up my neck and face.

  “I think they’re calling your name,” the man says.

  I turn towards the ballroom, and sure enough, the guy at the podium is still calling for me. “Damn it,” I mutter in anger. Then, turning to the stranger, I ask, “How did you know my name?”

  He gives me a cunning smile but doesn’t say a word.

  Glancing into the other room, I can see my father coming towards us. He looks angry. I’m sure he’s upset that I’m making him look bad right now by not showing up for the auction.

  “I…I better go,” I tell the handsome man quickly before heading back into the ballroom and towards the small stage. I feel all eyes on me as I walk, and I can feel the anxiety rising up inside of me. By the time I make it to the stage, I’m ready to puke.

  The man at the podium smiles widely. “We thought you left, but your father assured us you were still here,” he whispers while covering the microphone.

  “I was in the little girls’ room,” I offer as an excuse.

  “Ah,” he says with a nod. Speaking into the mic once again, he says, “Well, now that we’ve found our next…victim.” He stops talking to let out a hearty laugh. “Let’s start the bidding for a date night with Victoria Ciccone at the trendy, exclusive restaurant, La Petite Chaumière. And remember, gentlemen, this is for charity. So, why don’t we start the bidding off at —”

  “Twenty thousand dollars,” a man with an Irish accent blurts out before the announcer can even finish.

  I stare out into the crowd as Nolan Farrell’s oldest son, Brody, steps closer to the stage. He’s handsome with reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes, but my father would definitely not approve.

  My eyes dart over to Papa on the side of the stage, and he’s glaring daggers at Brody. If looks could kill, Brody would drop dead on the spot.

  “Twenty-two thousand,” a man in the crowd counterbids. He’s tall and thin with glasses and a thick head of brown hair. I know my father introduced me to him before. He sells real estate, I think. He’s thirty years my senior, however, and the same age as my own father. Even though it’s just a date and it is for charity, I’m hoping someone else outbids him.

  “Twenty-five,” Brody says, raising the stakes quickly.

  The two men battle it out until the bid is over fifty grand, way higher than all the other women who went before me.

  While the men continue to argue, I notice the handsome stranger from the coffee shop walk to the side of the stage in the shadows. He looks like he’s getting enjoyment from watching the two men fight over me.

  He flashes me a smirk when he catches me staring. Then, he yawns and checks his watch like he’s bored, and it makes me laugh. I have to cover up my laughter with a cough, and then my eyes grow wide. He’s going to get me in trouble. This is supposed to be taken seriously…even though the whole thing is ridiculous.

  After the men continue to fight over me, Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome steps in front of the stage and offers, “Eighty thousand dollars.”

  My eyes practically bug out of my head at the extravagant offer, and the whole room goes silent as they stare at the man, who effectively shut up Brody Farrell and the real estate agent.

  “Eighty thousand going once…going twice…” The announcer pounds his little wooden gavel on the podium. “You, sir, have won a date with the lovely Victoria Ciccone.”

  I stand awestruck in the spotlight as the handsome stranger grins at me and then walks off into the crowd as if he didn’t just bid an exorbitant amount on a date with me.

  “Next up is CiCi Baruthe. Can we bring CiCi up on stage, please?” the announcer asks the audience.

  I take it as my cue to get the hell off this stage, and my legs are suddenly wobbly as I make my way down. Brody Farrell is waiting for me, and he extends his hand to help me down the last few steps.

  “Thank you,” I tell him. When I try to pull my hand away, he holds on tighter and draws me in closer.

  “Victoria, I know our fathers have their differences, but I’d love to take you out sometime.”

  I can see my father seething over the interaction. If he was a cartoon, smoke would definitely be shooting out of his ears right about now. Turning my attention back to Brody, I say, “I don’t think that would be a good idea right now.”


  His hopeful face morphs into anger as he releases my hand quickly as if I just burned him. “You’re gonna regret sayin’ no to me,” he threatens menacingly before turning on his heel and stalking away from me, followed by three of his goons.

  I stare after him as an icy chill dances up my spine. That was terrifying and downright uncalled for. I can date who I want, and I definitely don’t want to get mixed up with the family my father is always trying to conquer and undermine.

  After spending the next half an hour searching for Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome and having no luck, I escape outside the double doors to the backyard. The patio overlooks a grand, manicured lawn and the Nicoll Bay in the distance.

  It’s dark and quiet out here, and I feel like I can actually breathe. I take in several deep breaths, inhaling the cool, night air. I’m so thankful this is my last party of the season. I don’t think I could do one more charity gala even if I wanted to.

  Wrapping my arm around one of the large pillars, I rest my head against the hard surface and stare out into the distance. The moonlight reflects over the calm water, and I’m taken aback by the beauty of it all.

  As a soft breeze blows, I get a whiff of familiar cologne. Turning, I see the handsome stranger sitting on a chair, staring out at the same picturesque view I am.

  “Trying to hide so you don’t have to actually pay for our date?” I joke.

  A slow, lazy grin pulls up at the corners of his mouth, but he doesn’t turn to me. He must have known I’ve been here all this time. “I’ll be happy to let you know that I already paid for it. And I’m not hiding. I’m simply avoiding a pretentious asshole.”

  “There’s only one of those in there?” I ask with mock surprise.

  He chuckles in response. “There are many actually, but one in particular was getting under my skin.”

  “Ah, I see.” I stare at him, drinking in every feature. He looks just as handsome as he did the other day in the coffee shop. The stubble lining his strong jaw is a little thicker, making him appear older.

  “You know my reasoning now. What’s yours? Why are you out here?” he asks.

  “I hate crowds,” I confess.

  My admission seems to surprise him. “So, why do you attend so many of these parties then?”

  My brows crease in confusion. That’s twice that he’s said something to indicate he knows me…or knows about me. Perhaps he’s seen me in the tabloids just like everyone else in this city. And it’s really disappointing if that’s true, because he knows the fake persona that’s portrayed to the public, not the actual girl standing here in front of him right now. “You know, you sure do know a lot about me. And I don’t even know your name.”

  Standing, he walks slowly over to me. “Damon. Damon Romero.”

  He towers over my petite frame when he’s near, and I find it hard to breathe when he’s this close. He’s so brutally handsome that it almost hurts to look at him, but I find myself getting lost in his eyes. Eyes that seem so otherworldly and oh so familiar. I instantly know who they remind me of, and I have to force myself from saying his name out loud.

  Arlo Rossi.

  The color is an exact replica. And I would know…I spent many years staring into them, memorizing them.

  For a moment, I allow myself to wonder if this is what Arlo would have looked like if he had lived a full and long life. They both share the same eyes and same dark shade of hair, but Arlo remains a little boy in my mind. A young boy frozen in time. Maybe he would look completely different from this man now.

  The sad thing is…I'll never know, because he died the night of the fire. That was the worst night of my life, and it still invades my thoughts and dreams often.

  I place my hand against my chest, feeling the locket that Arlo had given me years ago underneath the material of my dress, and it grounds me.

  This man may have jarred loose the memory of the boy I once loved, but I have to shove it back down deep inside my mind where it belongs. It still hurts to have lost someone so important to me right after the death of my mother. I lost them both within a matter of months, and the cut is still deep and painful even to this day.

  Damon’s cell phone rings softly, and he’s quick to pull it out of his jacket pocket. He frowns at the screen, but quickly schools his features into a cool mask when he glances up at me. “I need to go,” he tells me. “But I should get your number, so I can arrange our date.”

  I’ve never given my number to a guy before, so this is all completely new to me. Growing up, I never even had so much as a boyfriend…or even a first kiss, as pathetic as that sounds now that I'm twenty-three years old. I was in an all-girls school in the middle of nowhere, so boys weren't really on my radar…or even in my vicinity half the time.

  I spout off the digits as he punches them into his phone with his thick index finger.

  "Are you free tomorrow night?" he asks, glancing up at me.

  "Yeah, sure," I agree.

  "Great. I'll be in touch. Goodnight, Victoria."

  And with that, he walks away from me and back into the ballroom. I lose sight of him in the crowd.

  Clutching the locket, I collapse against the large pillar behind me, letting out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

  Between not being able to breathe and the butterflies threatening to take flight in my stomach every few seconds when I’m around Damon Romero, I might not make it through our first date without some much-needed medical attention.

  There’s just something about him that makes my heart beat a little faster when he’s near.

  I just hope he’s not too good to be true.

  CHAPTER 6

  DAMON

  EVERYTHING WENT AS planned tonight.

  Baz was able to secure me an invitation to the exclusive gala, and I was able to pretend all night like I belonged there with the rest of the elite. If they only knew there was a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing walking amongst them.

  Victoria fell for my act hook, line and sinker, just like I thought she would. After seeing how she reacted to me in the coffee shop and hooking her then, I knew it wouldn’t take much to reel her in at the gala.

  I should have known her father would sign her up for the ridiculous auction. I wasn’t anticipating, however, so much competition. I thought maybe one person would try to outbid me, but I didn’t expect two to be fighting over her right out of the gate. Especially not the son of her father’s archenemy.

  I guess I’ll need to keep a close eye on Brody Farrell and make sure he doesn’t fuck up my plans any more than he tried doing tonight.

  Brody made a mess of things for me at the gala since I didn’t plan on spending so much money on a date with Victoria. I’m eighty grand poorer since I needed the shock and awe factor after his little spectacle.

  But the whole thing was absolutely necessary in securing a date with the object of my obsession. The money doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things if it progresses me forward in our timeline. Instead of going to that crummy little coffee shop day after day and vying for her attention, now I have the upper hand. She’s obligated to go out with me now, and I plan on making it a night she’ll never forget.

  After arriving back home and stripping out of my suit, I sit down in front of my computer. Clicking a few keys brings up several security camera feeds on the widescreen monitor. Each feed shows me a different room in Victoria’s apartment.

  I had the cameras installed in her place before she even moved in. Her father had rented the place in his name, and I paid off the super of the building to allow me unfettered access for one hour.

  One hour is all it took for the hidden surveillance equipment to be installed in the place. I thought maybe the old man would be bringing his mistresses here and that I could perhaps coerce one of them to get me closer to Giorgio Ciccone.

  Little did I know that the apartment would be for Victoria once she moved back to the city.

  Giorgio sent her away not long after the fire. I know she
went to a boarding school in Colorado and then college. He kept her far, far away to keep her safe.

  And now that he's brought her back, he must be feeling comfortable again on his throne.

  But he has no idea what's coming for him.

  Or should I say…who.

  Staring at the monitor, I watch her check her phone. Perhaps she’s looking for a text from me.

  Testing out that theory, I grab my phone and send her a quick message.

  Text me your address. I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow night. ~Damon

  Even though I have all the information on Victoria that I need, I have to play dumb and ask for her address so I can pick her up tomorrow night.

  I watch Victoria read my text on the set of monitors in front of me. And the happiness that creeps up on her pretty face makes me happy in return.

  I want her to want me.

  I want her to crave me.

  Tomorrow there will be no more waiting. I'm going to wine and dine her, shower her with gifts, and appear to be the perfect man for her. Love bombing is the term for it, and I plan on doing just that. I want her to fall for me, and the quicker the better.

  The sooner she falls for me, the sooner I can get to her father and the sooner I can get vengeance for my family.

  Giorgio Ciccone will pay for what he's done to me. I'll make sure of that.

  It's a shame that Victoria’s entire world is about to be turned upside down. She’s a pawn in all of this, and I almost feel bad about using her. Almost.

  But I am so close that I can practically taste it. Victoria is the key to my revenge, and nothing will stop me now.

  Closing the security cameras, I go onto a local florist's website and order a dozen roses to be delivered to Victoria's apartment before our date.

  Let the love bombing begin…

  CHAPTER 7