Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73989 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73989 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
The woman smiled. “She’s doing wonderfully. She and the children are out back.”
“Would you mind watching the kids and asking her to meet us in the sunroom?”
“Certainly, sir. Would you and your friend like something to drink or eat before I get Ms. Elena?”
I watched the entire exchange with my mouth hanging open. Devil showed none of his usual posturing bullshit, his arrogance, or his desire to bark out orders and expect them to be obeyed. This woman obviously worked for his family, but he was behaving as though she were the hostess here, and she was doing him a favor.
He’s not a monster.
Gemma obviously respected him. I would even go so far as to say she liked him, and not because he was hot as fuck but because he was a decent human being.
Devil Marchesi is a decent human being, and you’re in love with him.
Fuck. I couldn’t be. But I was.
Devil turned to me. “Would you like something. Coffee? Bourbon? Wine?”
“Coffee. Thank you.”
“I just made a cherry pie,” Gemma said. “Elena’s daughter asked for one.”
Devil must’ve seen the way my eyes widened at the thought of homemade pie. “We’d love some pie with coffee.”
“Should I bring it to the sunroom?”
“Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you.”
“This is Joe, by the way. Joe, this is Gemma. She keeps everything running smoothly here in Weston.”
She held out her hand, and we shook. “It’s nice to meet you, Joe.”
“It’s nice to meet you too. And thank you for the pie.”
“Of course. I’ll have it out in just a few minutes.”
Moments later we were seated in a gorgeous sunroom surrounded by plants and white wicker furniture. The warm atmosphere wasn’t something I would have expected in the Marchesis’ home, but now that I knew Devil better, I should have.
The cherry pie was incredible, and the coffee made the swill at the police station seem even worse than it usually did.
Devil was oddly quiet as we waited for Elena. He seemed almost nervous. I felt the need to break the silence between us when a beautiful, dark-haired woman who looked to be around thirty to thirty-five entered the room.
Devil stood and hugged her. They looked gorgeous together. He turned to me when he released her. “Joe, this is Elena. I’ve asked her to tell you a little bit about her association with my family.”
I held out my hand, Elena shook it, then we all sat.
“Would you like pie?” Devil asked her.
“No thank you. I’ve had some already, but I will take a cup of coffee.”
Devil poured one, added cream and sugar, and handed it to her.
After she’d taken a sip, she turned to me. “Devil and his family saved my life. More than once.” Her words were soft, but they sent a chill down my spine.
“I would love to hear your story if you’re comfortable telling me.”
She took another sip of coffee. “My husband was abusing me, and before you say I should’ve reported it to the police, let me assure you that would’ve resulted in my death and likely the death of anyone sent to investigate. My husband had the power to make things go his way.”
I glanced at Devil, but he shook his head and nodded toward Elena.
She continued. “I’m sure people who called themselves my friends noticed the bruises, the dislocated shoulder, the broken wrist, but if any of them cared, they didn’t dare cross my husband. Devil realized what was happening. He could’ve used my situation as a weapon against me. Instead, he made sure I got to safety. He helped me and my children get free. And when a stepson I didn’t know existed threatened my life and the lives of my children, the Marchesis stepped in again.”
I asked her several questions. I wanted details, but I was mindful of Devil’s insistence not to upset her. Now I understood why he’d been so angry. “Do you need help now?”
Elena shook her head. “Devil and his family have taken care of my problem.” She reached out and laid her hand over mine. “I’m not going to pretend the Marchesis always follow the law or that you would agree with everything they do, but they are good men. They care about people, and they take care of problems the police never could. No matter what I’d told you, you wouldn’t have been able to legally bring down my husband or my stepson. The law can’t always stop people from getting hurt. Sometimes it takes a person who doesn’t have to play by the rules to get things accomplished.”
My chest was tight, and there was a lump in my throat. All I could do was nod in response to Elena. As I tried to compose myself, the quiet of the room was interrupted by shouts of excitement. A little girl who looked to be about six came running in followed by Gemma and a smaller boy.