Tempted By The Devil (Kings Of Mafia)

I’ve made two batches of cannolis, and as they cool down, Angelo comes into the kitchen.

“Christ, I love the smell in the house since you moved in.”

I grin at him from where I’m leaning with my hip against the counter while drinking a cup of coffee.

When I woke up this morning and felt his arms around me, there was a shift in my heart.

I’m starting to see Angelo in a different light. Not once has he been violent with me. Even though I’m well aware he can change at any time, I’m clinging to the hope that he’ll never raise a hand against me.

He’s been kind and patient with me…and even loving. Sometimes, I forget he’s one of the heads of the Cosa Nostra. I forget he’s killed people. I forget he makes a living from criminal activities.

When he’s home, he’s just Angelo, my husband.

We’re forming a bond, and it has my feelings changing toward him.

I’m not always on high alert around him, and I even smile more.

Angelo steals a cannoli and leans back against the counter. With his eyes on me, he takes a bite.

I watch as he enjoys the dessert, and more warmth trickles into my heart.

I can learn to love this man.

He tilts his head and asks, “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before I admit, “You’re different from what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

He takes another cannoli as I answer truthfully, “Violence.”

He eats the whole thing in two bites before he says, “My father used to beat the shit out of my mother. I’m no saint, but it’s the one thing I’ll never do.”

Hearing about his parents, my eyebrows draw together. “I’m so sorry. It must’ve been awful.” I glance down at the caramel liquid in my cup. “My father was gentle and caring.”

“I know. He was a big teddy bear. Everyone felt the loss when he died.”

Right. Angelo knew my dad.

Angelo closes the distance between us and framing my face with his hands, he captures my gaze with his.

“When I saw you at the funeral, it never occurred to me Giorgio would treat you so badly. If I had known, I would’ve placed you somewhere safer.”

He leans down and presses a tender kiss an inch from my mouth, then murmurs, “I’m sorry you suffered since your father died.”

Another kiss is pressed a hair-width closer, and anticipation explodes in my chest.

My breathing speeds up, and it has Angelo pulling back so our eyes can meet.

“Give me permission, Vittoria,” he whispers.

I consider his request, but not feeling ready, I shake my head. “I just need a little more time.”

He lets out a deep breath and pulls away from me. “In that case, I’m taking half the cannolis.”

He’s not angry with me.

A smile spreads over my face. “I made double so you could have some.”

“I’ll have to spend extra time in the gym to work off all the food,” he chuckles before leaving the kitchen.

Silence falls at the loss of his presence. I feel an urge to follow him so I can be near him again, but suppressing it, I start to clean the kitchen after baking all morning.

A kiss is the only thing I have control over, and I want it to happen when I’m in love with Angelo.

When I’m done with the chore, I leave the kitchen and find Angelo lying on the couch and reading a book.

I stop dead in my tracks and stare at the big, bad mafioso doing something as ordinary as reading.

My mouth tips up in a smile, and walking closer, I ask, “Can I join you.”

His eyes flick to my face. “Of course.” He reaches his hand out, then murmurs, “Come lie by me.”

I’m careful as I crawl over him and lie down half on top of his body. Resting my cheek on his chest, I let out a sigh.

When he continues to read his book, I ask, “Can I watch TV?”

“Sure.” The word rumbles from him before he picks up the remote and hands it to me.

I switch on the TV and find my way to Netflix. I can’t remember which episode I was last on, and to play it safe, I start season two of Virgin River from the beginning.

Getting comfortable, I quickly get lost in the show.

During the second episode, Angelo mutters, “I’d kill half the people in that town just for being annoying.”

A chuckle escapes me. “Yeah, Hope is a bit much, and Charmaine is a conniving witch.”

“Bitch,” he corrects me. “What the fuck did he see in her?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh with happiness.

“The guy needs to grow a pair.”

“Uh-huh.”

After a few minutes, Angelo mutters, “Christ, why do you like this show?”

“It’s fun.”

“If it’s fun you want, all you have to do is ask, baby.”

I let out a burst of laughter and move to the other end of the couch. Lifting Angelo’s legs, I rest them on my lap, then say, “Hush now, I’m missing half of what’s happening.”

He tries to read his book for a while but eventually gives up and watches the show with me. Every now and then, he comments about the people being idiots, making the smile on my face grow wider and wider.

Father Parisi ignores all the other parishioners and rushes to where I’m getting everything ready for coffee hour.

“Tori, I was so worried,” he exclaims, and grabbing my hand in both of his, he asks, “Are you okay?”

I give him a smile to set him at ease. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

Before we can continue talking, Rosa joins us. “That’s a beautiful dress you’re wearing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s one of the new ones Angelo bought for me.

Her eyes dart to where Tiny is standing near a wall. I’ve already given him two cannolis and a cup of coffee. I caught him nodding off several times while Father Parisi delivered the sermon.

“What is he doing here?” Rosa asks.

Bracing for the questions she’s going to unleash on me, I answer, “He’s my guard.”

“What?”

Father Parisi’s attention is drawn away from us by a group of men, and as I continue with my work, I say, “I got married to Angelo.”

“Angelo Rizzo!” she whisper-hisses as she covers her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. “God, have mercy.” She motions the sign of the cross before her hands fly to my forearm, gripping it tightly. “I don’t know what to say. Are you okay?” Her eyes flit to Tiny, then she whispers, “I don’t have much, but I have enough for you to run.”

Bless her heart.

Patting her hands, I shake my head. “There’s no need for that. Angelo is good to me.”

“That man doesn’t have a good bone in his body! He’s pure evil.”

“Hush,” I chastise her when I suddenly feel defensive of Angelo. “He’s my husband, Rosa. Don’t disrespect him.”

Her hands jump away from my arm, and she takes a step back, disappointment filling her eyes.

I give her a pleading look as I say, “I’m married to him, Rosa. I made a vow before God, and I won’t break it. This is my life now.”

Understanding where I’m coming from, she nods. “It’s such a shock.”

Trust me, I know.

Widening my smile, I add, “Angelo is really good to me. I’m better off with him than I was living with Giorgio. He’s been nothing but kind and loving with me.”

“Is that so?” I hear a familiar sneer behind me.

Oh crap.

I haven’t seen Giorgio since the wedding, and just hearing his voice sends a shiver down my spine.

Turning around to look at him, my eyes widen when I see he’s lost part of his left arm. “What happened? Did you get an infection from breaking it?”

Giving me a brotherly smile I haven’t seen in over seven years, he wraps his other arm around my shoulders and says, “Let’s go for a walk. We have a lot to talk about, Vi-Vi.”

Hearing his old nickname for me throws me for a complete loop, and he manages to steer me toward the opposite side of the room and away from Tiny.

Not wanting to leave the safety of the crowd, I pull back and say, “No. We can talk here.”

His eyes turn dark with the rage I’m very acquainted with, and he hisses, “Now that you’re living the perfect life, you’ve forgotten about me? After everything I did to make Angelo marry you, this is the thanks I get? Not even a visit to the hospital?”

I quickly shake my head. “I didn’t know you were in the hospital.”

“Sure you didn’t. Don’t act all fucking innocent, Tori. What shit did you tell Angelo about me?”

I shake my head again.

Giorgio takes a step closer to me and growls, “I lost my fucking arm because you complained to Angelo that I beat you.”

My eyes widen with shock, and I keep shaking my head.

“Back away from her,” Tiny grumbles as he takes hold of my arm, pulling me to his side.

Instantly, Giorgio’s face transforms from angry to passive. “Hey, Tiny. I’m just catching up with my little sister.”

Tiny pushes me toward the table. “Go help Rosa.”

Not arguing, I hurry back to my duties. I have to force a smile around my lips while I serve the parishioners.

Holy crap. Angelo cut off Giorgio’s arm.

Because of me.

I don’t know how I feel about that.

Giorgio sure as hell had it coming after all the abuse and pain he inflicted on me.

A week ago, I would’ve been consumed with guilt, but now…

Angelo took revenge for what was done to me. He didn’t come home bragging about it but just dealt with the problem.

Warmth floods my chest, and tears well in my eyes.

It’s been so long since I had a safe place to call home, and it’s overwhelming when I realize I’m safe with Angelo.

And Tiny.

Angelo will hurt anyone who lays a finger on me.

The moment I’m done serving coffee and tea, I ask Rosa, “Is it okay if you finish cleaning up this week? I’ll clean up next Sunday.”

“Uhm…yeah, sure.”

“Thank you!” Grabbing my handbag, I rush to Tiny, and as we leave the cathedral, I say, “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“It’s my job.” His eyes flick down to me. “Are you okay?”

I give my guard, that’s quickly becoming my friend, a smile. “Yeah. I was just shocked to see he lost his arm.”

After climbing into the car, my stomach begins to buzz with anticipation, and by the time the vehicle pulls up the driveway, my knee is bouncing like crazy.

The instant Tiny parks in front of the entrance, I say, “Thanks! See you tomorrow.”

I dart out of the car and hurry toward the front door, and stepping inside, I call out, “Angelo.”

I don’t find him in the living room or kitchen and call again, “Angelo.”

I check the bedroom and still not finding him, I start to worry because he said he’s not going out today.

I rush to the back to check on the veranda, and when I see him lift himself out of the pool, a smile breaks over my face.

He picks up a towel and wipes the fabric over his head, drops of water streaming down his muscled body.

“Angelo!”

His head snaps up, and concern instantly tightens his features when I break into a run to get to him.