Diavolo (Devil’s Playground #1)

11. Chapter 11

11

The anguish in Elyse lingered long after Alessandro left. To divert her thoughts from the deadly activities he was likely partaking in, she needed to stop obsessing over shit that was out of her control. Elyse focused on resolutions that were within reach, turning to her burly new companion. It'd benefit her to befriend Monte. Over time, she might even earn enough of Monte's trust to glean some insight on how to keep her husband-to-be from killing himself on these suicide missions he kept going on. With a polite smile, she greeted the scary-looking fellow. "Thank you for looking after me, Monte. I appreciate it."

For some reason, the brute refused to make eye contact with her. Keeping his gaze focused straight ahead, Monte grunted back a terse one-word response, " Prego ."

"Do you speak English?"

He shook his meaty head. " Mi dispiace, signorina, non parlo inglese. English... no good."

"At least," she offered, "your English is better than my Italian."

Monte grunted again.

Elyse was tempted to try her hand at conversing in broken Italian with him, but it seemed too early to reveal her trump card. Thus, she continued in English, "Is this your first time in Paris?"

He shrugged.

Despite her best efforts to be friendly, Monte had yet to crack a smile. Frustration rose. Elyse knew she was failing to make a good first impression on her jailer. The man clearly had no interest in talking to her. Perhaps, their language barrier was too great to scale. Or maybe he simply didn't like her.

With brusque, efficient movements, Monte gathered up the bags and motioned for Elyse to follow him into the building. They went up to the fifth floor. Her mouth parted as they entered the flat. It was jaw-droppingly beautiful. The walls featured decorative molding with fanciful curves and rectangular panels. Intricate rosettes and bronzed crystal chandeliers adorned the ceiling overhead. An ornate gold mirror hung above a white marble fireplace. Warm-toned parquet floors and pristine white walls served as a backdrop for the opulence. Antique furniture constructed of natural woods, lush textiles, and touches of gold elevated the flat to something one might see in a luxe-kissed Parisian fever dream.

In this welcome moment of respite, the loveliness of it all distracted Elyse. She felt as though they'd stepped into another world. With wide eyes, she peered down the hallway and peeked inside the rooms. Each one more lavish than the next. Then, the novelty began to wear off, reality set in, and Elyse remembered that she was stuck here with a Sicilian mobster who'd been assigned to keep her from escaping and getting killed by his boss' enemies.

Papá had been right. All that glittered wasn't gold. Everything around her was beginning to feel like a gilded cage.

Time with Monte crept by in snail-like increments. Figuratively speaking, Elyse's back nearly broke from carrying their one-sided conversation on her own. The scarred man communicated mostly through grunts, curt nods, and jerky headshakes. An hour passed before Malina and Luca arrived at the flat. When the pair stepped through the front door, Elyse was relieved to see them. Malina gave Elyse a warm greeting and took a minute to fill her in about the dress appointment.

Luca greeted Elyse as well. The younger man had dark features, slicked-back, black-brown hair, and seemed much more talkative and easy-going than Monte, but he also took care to avert his gaze. Why wouldn't they look at her? Elyse wondered if she'd done something to offend them.

Later, when she asked Malina about their strange behavior, the housekeeper simply smiled and said, "Do not worry about Monte and Luca, Dr. Romero. It is a sign of respect."

"Really?"

"You are the boss' woman, after all."

"Good to know," Elyse murmured. She meant it, too. She'd been taking notes of everything regarding the unspoken rules and norms that dictated her new life. "Thank you for taking the time to explain these things to me, Malina. I’d be lost without you."

"Think nothing of it, Dr. Romero," Malina remarked. "I find your willingness to adapt to new circumstances— admirable ."

Their eyes met, green finding blue, and a flicker of trust forged between the two women.

At three o'clock sharp, a team of stylists paraded a sea of white tulle, ivory silk, and cream-colored lace wedding gowns into the living room. They put Elyse in one stunning couture dress after another. Each gown had been plucked straight from the latest runways of Marchesa, Vera Wang, Monique Lhuillier, and Carolina Herrera. As Elyse saw herself in one wedding dress after another, the idea of marrying Alessandro no longer seemed as far-fetched as it had twenty-four hours ago.

"You look like an angel," Malina gushed, " Signor Vitale will be beside himself when he sees you walking down the aisle."

"You're too kind," Elyse returned with a smile. But there was a shadow of resentment in her eyes. She didn't want to be a bride. Elyse glanced at the mirror again. The older woman was right, though. The dresses were breathtaking. She felt beautiful in all of them. Suddenly, the idea of marrying Alessandro became a bit more bearable. As Elyse stared at her reflection, a mixture of dread and excitement rattled through her.

At the thought of her husband-to-be, Elyse's heart thudded once more with worry. What was he doing right now? A grimace tightened on her mouth. The bastard better not be getting himself shot again. Right as this dark thought crossed her mind, Luca reappeared in the living room. The timing felt ominous. His face wore a strained expression. "We must go, Dr. Romero. There has been an accident."

Malina's brow wrinkled with concern. "But she has not selected a dress yet."

"The boss needs her," was all Luca needed to say to convince Malina to start sending away the stylists and their dresses.

Elyse's heart began to slam against her chest. Genuine distress spiked her pulse. She started wriggling out of the gown. Luca closed his eyes and turned to face the opposite wall until she changed back into her regular clothes.

"Did something happen to Mr. Vitale?" she demanded. "Is he hurt?"

"No time to explain," Luca muttered. "But someone got shot. Bring whatever you need to keep him alive."

With a nod, Elyse didn't hesitate to leap into action. "Give me a minute."

She ran to retrieve her medical supplies and surgical tools. They left the flat in a hurry. Like a madman, Monte drove Luca and Elyse through the posh streets of the 16th arrondissement to a much seedier part of the city. They eventually pulled up to a small, rundown-looking building in the 19th arrondissement. There was a sign overhead— Clinique Charles Aveline. Once they entered the clinic, Elyse's eyes grew wide as she spotted the third man from the jet, Marcello, spread out on an exam table with blood gushing from his shoulder. He was accompanied by a blonde woman and three other tough-looking men that Elyse didn't recognize.

Alessandro was nowhere in sight.

She shoved aside this heart-wrenching observation and got to work on her patient. Marcello had taken a bullet to the shoulder. Thankfully, the small clinic was well equipped, especially compared to the shitty conditions in her apartment whenever Stefano's men needed stitching up. There was an X-ray machine and anesthesia available. In two hours flat, Elyse removed the shrapnel from Marcello's shoulder, disinfected the wound, and then sutured him up. He'd most likely live.

Elyse slept in the clinic to monitor Marcello's vitals through the night. Luca and Monte stayed with her. The next day, Marcello's condition seemed more stable. The three of them transported him back to the flat. Malina helped Elyse keep a close eye on Marcello so she could get some rest. The housekeeper was a quick study. She listened to Elyse's instructions carefully and executed them flawlessly. The woman would've made an excellent nurse.

Elyse tried not to obsess over the fact that Alessandro still hadn't returned to the flat. He'd yet to respond her numerous calls or texts, and no one was willing to give her any information. Apprehension ate at her. Why had he disappeared for two whole days? Was he hurt? This was as far as Elyse's paranoia allowed such thoughts to wander before self-preservation kicked in. She couldn't bring herself to entertain the worst-case scenario.

Around 3 am that night, Elyse heard the sound of footsteps padding along the parquet floors. She sat up from the bed and switched on the light. Brown and blue-gray eyes found hers, and she forgot to breathe for a moment.

Alessandro was back .

He looked disheveled as fuck. He was also drenched in blood. But the bastard was alive. Relief chased her fears away. Elyse struggled to keep her voice steady, "Wh-Where have you been?"

" Mi scusi, angelo, I did not mean to wake you," he murmured. He noticed the look on her face and added, "The blood is not mine. Do not worry."

Her relief ballooned some more. Elyse whispered with her whole heart, " Gracias a Dios ."

Their eyes found each other halfway across the room. A delicate, new emotion materialized between them. It felt far more tender and fragile than anything Elyse had ever experienced with any man. She fought against it, willing herself not to give in to these conflicting feelings. Alessandro looked away first. "I will go shower. Let us talk afterward."

Then, as though he'd returned from the grocery store and not two days' worth of criminal operations, Alessandro walked away with easy, unhurried steps into the adjoining bathroom. She heard the shower turn on. Alessandro had left the door ajar. Elyse's worst fears waned now that he was at her side again, but worry lingered on. The man claimed the blood smeared all over his person didn't belong to him, but her medical instincts remained on high alert.

Elyse wanted to see for herself that he was truly unharmed. She rose from the mattress and stripped down to her bra and underwear. Elyse didn't want to get her sleep shirt wet. With a determined stride, she headed toward the bathroom. A moment later, shocked by her own brazenness, Elyse found herself slipping into the shower to join Alessandro.

He seemed bewildered to see her as well. " Angelo, what—"

The spray was hitting his toned, muscled physique from every angle. He looked like a bronzed god of water. Dark, wet hair clung to his face. Droplets of water glistened from his black lashes. His beauty nearly stole her breath away. Elyse flushed with embarrassment as she tried to explain herself, "As your physician, I wanted to check if you were… hurt."

A slow, knowing smile spread across his handsome face. Alessandro said nothing at first. He simply drew her into his arms until the warm spray enveloped them both. He pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Look and touch your fill," he whispered to her, "and you will see that your man is alive and well."

The intimacy in Alessandro's tone drew a hard, heavy thump from her heart. Water and steam surrounded them in the stall. Elyse's bra and underwear were completely soaked. She looked ridiculous, but she didn't care. Her embarrassment had since shifted into another emotion entirely, a deep and encompassing regard for the man beside her, and all semblance of proprietary quickly washed away with the water trickling down her body. With a resolute gleam in her eyes, Elyse lifted her chin to face Alessandro.

Look and touch your fill.

Her green eyes darted this way and that way. To look. She reached up to brush her fingers along his cheekbones . To touch. As her fingertips skimmed across warm, solid flesh, she released a slow, unsteady breath. Elyse didn't realize that she had been holding in so much stress until now. Air exited her lungs like a weight lifting from her chest. The man before her wasn't a ghost. He was real. His enemies hadn't stolen him from her. And you will see that your man is alive and well.

Thank God he wasalive.

Thank God he waswell.

Thank God he didn't die.

Alessandro's heated gaze followed her fervently. Apprehensively, Elyse inspected his neck, his shoulders, his arms, and his hands. She dragged her eyes down his chiseled torso and—

His cock jerked up.

With the discipline of a trained medical professional, Elyse ignored his stirring arousal and instead placed her hands on either side of his hips to turn him around. He let her guide him until they were no longer facing each other. Elyse proceeded to examine his back, waist, glutes, and legs. Other than a dozen or so scrapes and bruises here and there, Alessandro seemed fine.

Satisfied with her findings, Elyse picked up a bar of soap and began to wash his back in gentle, circular movements. When she completed this task, Alessandro turned to face her once more, resting his palms along her narrow waist as she continued to cleanse his chest and stomach. Over the next few minutes, Elyse inspected every inch of him with soap and water. Well, every inch except the inches that he wanted her to touch.

He didn't complain, though. Alessandro seemed happy enough. He found ways to entertain himself. His large hands dragged across her body, caressing and touching her curves to his heart's content. He removed her bra to palm her breasts and pinch and fondle her nipples. He later coaxed Elyse out of her panties. The drenched fabric dropped to the floor of the shower stall.

Neither of them uttered a word as Elyse knelt to slide the bar of soap up and down his long, muscular legs. Alessandro eyed her submissive new position with great interest. His dick rose eagerly to full attention. Elyse pretended not to notice the fact that he was as solid as steel. She kept grazing over it on purpose. This moment wasn't about sex. It was about finding solace after a storm. Death and peril seemed to follow Alessandro wherever he went. Elyse both yearned and dreaded to uncover just how close this stupid man had come to taking his final breaths in the past forty-eight hours. Logically speaking, Elyse knew better than to care so much for a dangerous criminal's well-being. But care she did.

Deeply.

Stupidly.

Hopelessly.

Emotion threatened to overtake her. Elyse rose from her knees and tried to exit the shower. Alessandro caught her wrist and pulled her back. For a moment, Elyse thought the horny bastard was going to guide her to his dick, but he let go of her hand and chose, instead, to fist himself, wrapping his fingers around the solid, throbbing length. The devil-black of the tattoos on his hand had never looked more sinful. His grip tightened. Green eyes became mesmerized by the thick veins running along back of his hand. He gave a firm, shameless tug. Her breath caught. His boldness stunned her. Yet, Elyse couldn't tear her eyes away.

With languid strokes, Alessandro began to slide his fist up and down his cock. White-hot desire shot through Elyse. Her obvious interest seemed to spur him on. His passion soon grew more desperate than hers. He pumped faster, harder. Shamelessly, his eyes turned to Elyse for inspiration, greedily drinking in her naked tits and the soft, pretty folds of her cunt.

Need and want mounted between them. Lust seized Elyse and overpowered her self-restraint. She started massaging the swells of her breasts. She plucked her nipples, rolling them sweetly between her fingers. With a low, sensual moan, Elyse trailed her other hand down her stomach to pleasure herself alongside him. His eyes watched her fingers disappear between her lower lips with an intensity that set her ablaze.

From there, Alessandro didn't last long. His breathing grew heavy and erratic. A few minutes later, he brought himself to an explosive climax, spilling before her in a series of strained grunts and gasps. After taking a moment to recover, Alessandro turned off the shower spray. They stepped out of the stall together. He wrapped a plush white towel around her before retrieving another for himself. Once they were dry, Alessandro hoisted Elyse up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He lowered her onto the very edge of the mattress and then placed a hand on either side of her thighs to splay her legs apart. Alessandro kneeled before her sex and dropped a light kiss upon her mound. In almost inaudible tones, he asked, "May I?"

Elyse nodded and released a blissed-out sigh, "Please..."

This time, he didn't tease her. Not even a little. His mouth took but a second to lock onto her folds, kissing and sucking and lapping hungrily at her most feminine flesh like a starving man. Wave after wave of wondrous, blinding pleasure blossomed from her core and rolled throughout the rest of her body. Elyse became lightheaded and breathless. His tongue lingered here and there, exploring her crevices, the secret folds within her folds, nudging her toward the brink of madness, until she became a moaning, writhing mess of a woman.

His wicked lips closed around her clit, sucking on it sweetly, and Elyse ascended to a whole other realm of ecstasy. His talented tongue swirled and caressed until Elyse saw stars even with her eyes tightly shut. She was already slick with excitement and thoroughly worked up from their foreplay in the shower. He easily slipped two fingers into her tight, welcoming warmth. Alessandro began to thrust his fingers in and out of her pussy while his mouth continued to worship her clit.

Time stood still even while her world spun. Elyse's climax swallowed her wholly, violently, as though it was a stormy tide and she— a vessel lost at sea . Primal feminine cries escaped from her breathless lungs. She'd never come so hard before in her life. Alessandro held her through the powerful rise and fall and lingering ripples of her orgasm. When, at last, she drifted back down to reality, her body felt limp and boneless. Her legs were still trembling.

Alessandro shuffled Elyse under the covers before sliding in beside her. He bent down and tried to place a quick, chaste kiss on her lips. Even in her state of helplessness, however, Elyse remembered to turn her head away from him. She possessed no qualms about what they had just done together in the shower and on the bed, but, somehow, kissing still felt too intimate. Her reasoning made little sense, but she feared that their first kiss might serve as the catalyst to unlock her restraint, and Elyse wasn't ready to examine her Pandora's Box of feelings for this treacherous, complicated man.

A look of disappointment crossed Alessandro's face, but he didn't protest. With a sigh, he proceeded to gather Elyse into his arms as though nothing was amiss between them. Alessandro held her in this way for quite some time as she dozed in a cloud of post-orgasmic fatigue. They passed out in each other's arms until morning.

When sunlight began to stream through the windows, she felt him shuffling beside her. Alessandro was awake. Elyse willed her sleepy eyes open, rolling over to face him.

He smiled. "Good morning, angelo. "

Why was Alessandro gazing at her like a man in love? Elyse blushed. "Morning."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Like the dead."

Grogginess began to fade. As the ability to form coherent thought returned, Elyse narrowed her gaze. Enough with the small talk. The slick bastard had escaped her questions again last night. Elyse was determined to hold him accountable. It was time for answers . She coughed, "Speaking of dead. Someone almost died—"

Alessandro eyed her warily and interjected, "I would much rather talk about how beautiful you look right now. And how happy I am to wake up beside you."

Elyse frowned. Clearly, he was dodging and deflecting again. She refused to be swayed, barreling on, "Marcello will need to be on bed rest for the next week or so. He's lucky that the bullet didn't cause permanent nerve damage. The man could've lost mobility over his entire arm."

"Marcello was lucky to have you at his side," Alessandro expressed in grateful tones. "He is like family to me. Thank you for watching over him when I could not."

"Luca said that he wasn't with Marcello when the gun was fired, so I couldn't get the answers I needed from him. Were you present when Marcello was under fire?"

"Maybe."

She tried to guilt him into lowering his defenses. "I’m only asking because he’s my patient. I need more details if you want him to receive the best care I can provide."

Alessandro's face grew withdrawn. "I see."

"Please tell me everything you know." Elyse proceeded to ask Alessandro the same set of questions she'd directed at Stefano and Mikey when they delivered him to her Queens apartment. But Alessandro was nowhere near as cooperative as Stefano and Mikey. On the contrary, he clenched his jaw tighter. The man didn't look like he was willing to reveal anything. Elyse poured on more guilt, "I may need to bring Marcello to another clinic. One that can run an X-ray or CT scan. There are still many things that might go wrong during his recovery."

This was a lie. There had been an X-ray machine in the small 19th arrondissement clinic, and Elyse had been able to run some chest and arm imaging on Marcello the other day, but Alessandro didn't need to know this information right now. In reluctant tones, he admitted, "Marcello was shot from behind. About thirty feet away."

"So you were with him."

"Maybe."

"Why did he get shot?"

Alessandro didn't answer right away. Tension ticked between them. He glared at her. "As a physician, you do not need to know the motive."

"No," she agreed, "but, as someone whose life is tied to you and your men, I'd like to know the motive. For my safety. And my sanity."

Alessandro's eyes narrowed sharply. "I have told you before that I will keep you safe—"

Elyse stared him down with an unrelenting gaze, interjecting, "I'm beginning to warm up to the idea of becoming Mrs. Vitale. However, if you keep stringing me along, I won't hesitate to cut ties with you. We've already established that you were with Marcello when he was attacked, so please stop hiding what you know, and answer the fucking question."

His face lit up at the first part of her declaration. Only to darken with vexation when she finished speaking. He scowled deeply. "I am trying to protect you. Why must you be so stubborn?"

"Because I'm trying to become an asset. Not a liability. The less I know, the more mistakes I'll make."

"But I do not view you as an asset. Or a liability. I only see the woman I wish to marry, and your safety matters more than anything.”

"Not this again…"

"I speak the truth. In my eyes, your are priceless," Alessandro insisted. "You already own my cock. Soon, I think, you will own my heart as well."

Elyse leaned over to kiss his cheek, tauntingly, teasingly. "Don't insult me. At my age, I know a man's cock and his heart have nothing to do with each other. Give me the truth. The uglier, the better."

"Angelo—"

She shut him down, "Start talking. Or else, next time you get shot, I won't lift a finger to dig the bullets out of your body. I mean it . You'll be dead to me."

With a groan of frustration, Alessandro softened his resolve. "Very well. Have it your way. Savage woman."

Feeling savage, indeed, her glare sharpened, demanding, "Talk ."

"Marcello was shielding someone from the bullet."

"Who?" Another pause from him. She pressed again, "Who?"

A bleakness settled over his handsome face when he finally answered, "Me."