Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book Two

Chapter Seven

Niko

Luca is the one to have interrupted us; just as I was about to get my f*****g d**k wet, he knocked at my office door and put an end to whatever was transpiring between Bianca and me.

My desk was absolutely wet, her thighs, top and back included with the squirting orgasm that took over her. But you know what? I didn't f*****g mind, and she tasted more divine than a five-course meal at the f*****g Hilton.

But work called, and I had to prepare our men to protect Emma and Luca at all costs. Today, Emma swears by the Moretta name.

So all morning, I've been planning the exits, the men I'll have following Emma and Luca around with precision. The ones staying in getaway cars waiting for eventualities, I hope, don't arise. I'm consumed by the prospect of needing to protect them. And that's why I find myself smoking yet-a-f*****g-gain outside the front of the house. I call it stress relief, but I know my addiction is running at an all-time high right now.

I need the f*****g drugs to cope with this s**t show I call life. And right now, this thing with Bianca is tripping me the f**k out.

"Niko?" Emma's voice comes quietly, the gravel drifting beneath her feet as she approaches. She looks to me with a sorry attitude. I guess she's heard Bianca over the last few days, specifically when I brought Andrea home. However, I wonder if that's the actual case, as I've kept away as much as possible.

Sighing, I complain internally before answering her.

"Yes, Queen?"

"How are you?" She questions gently, obviously stalling for time.

"You know I'm fine. What do you need?"

Her response comes with a tight smile, "I need you to pretend you are in love with my sister tonight."

"Queen—" I roll my eyes. Anyone that knows me knows how fake this s**t is. I'm a womaniser, not the type to d**k and stick.

"We'll let Franko Densel down tonight; there can be no room for persuasion regarding Bianca's emotions," she summarises her internal anxieties. I look at her, flicking my gaze over her and then to Luca, who's waiting at the car.

"She's an annoying f*****g child," I lie between dragging on my spliff. Bianca is anything but a child, but I won't let anyone know I can see a future with the girl. Because, like f**k am I going to allow a stupid agreement between Dimitri and me to ruin my bachelorhood.

"It's just one night, hold her hand. Aid her to walk with a reassuring hand on her back. Make it seem like you've found love out of nowhere...and don't let her out of your sight. She cannot be left alone with anyone," Emma's tone changes. It's obvious she won't take a no on this. I look at her with a fresh gaze. I'm annoyed that she's putting this on my shoulders. I'm even more irritated that part of me wants to protect Bianca off of my own back.

"You're my priority," I mutter out of defiance. "It's your safety, and I value it over hers." Lies. It's all lies. I'll protect Bianca with my last breath, and I f*****g know it. And the longer we spend time like two opposing tectonic plates warding off subduction, the longer we risk sliding beneath one another, creating destruction in our wakes.

"Soon, she'll be your wife. Niko, I hate to say that, but she's your priority, too. Luca said something that made me realise your needs have to shift. What happens when she carries your child or when they're here? You need to protect her; it's your job."

Her words irritate me as she points out the obvious. If she weren't Emma, I would be causing a s**t show over her assumption of a future with Bianca.

If she were anyone else—.

"Who says our marriage will last that long? And kids, who say I want a little sprog to be weighed down with?" I grit out angrily.

"There are things even Luca or I can't excuse, Niko. You know that," she admits sheepishly.

"Our marriage isn't a permanent thing."

She looks stupefied, and I take that as a sign that I've triggered her some degree of upset, but I don't know how or why. Does she really think this is permanent between her sister and me?

"We need the Densels to believe the lie, specifically for that connection. Please ensure they have no doubts you'll be marrying one another. I don't want them to kidnap her," she begs me.

"Chance might be a fine f*****g thing. Okay, Queen, I'll do it for you," I shout after her as she walks back to Luca, obviously done with our conversation.

Turning back to the house, I stare longingly at the brick wall, begging it to open up a hole to give me an excuse to bail on this evening, but no such thing happens.

Instead, I grind out the spliff with my foot, bending to pick the butt up before entering the house. I go in search of Bianca, finding her inside my bedroom with a black sack. She's picking up the shards of broken wood, dressed in nothing but that t-shirt she soaked not long ago.

"I told you to clean up," I talk lowly, making her jump a mile off the ground.

"I am," she says, looking back at me with a look of pure mental exhaustion on her face.

"Okay, smart ass. I meant to clean you up," I point out with a sly grin.

"Oh. Ooh," she says. Dawning, hitting her face. It's comical, honestly. But she did need to clean this mess up, too.

"Up," I snap my fingers, walking to the bathroom. Inside, I turn the shower on to warm up and put the towels on the rail, which is already lukewarm as usual.

Bianca enters slowly, unsurely.

"Come on?" I call her, reaching down to rip my top up and over my head. I need a shower, too. We have an engagement to attend, so surely this can be classed as killing two birds with one stone? And we're saving on water whilst we're at it, which is always a plus when you live with so many people.

"You want to wash me?" She asks me shyly, not having moved from that spot by the door.

"I should have done it the moment I made you come, Bee. Now come on, we have things to do and places to be," I grate out, seedlings of doubt playing havoc on my decision-making.

Should I really be doing this?

Encouraging this weird dynamic, I don't understand. I've never showered with one of the girls; I usually deem it to be too intimate. Even with those thoughts, I drop my jeans and then my pants, staring at Bianca as I do.

That heat from my office travels up her bare neck and into her cheeks. Her eyes are zeroed in on one place on me in particular.

"Oh, god," she moans in the back of her throat, dropping her gaze.

"My eyes are up here," I joke, summoning her to me with one finger. She suddenly moves, just as she did earlier on when I called her from my office chair. "That's better. It's always better when you listen to me, Bee," I praise her.

"You're a moron," she spits as I grab her top, pulling it high up her arms and over her head. She's naked below except for those lace panties that hide her pubic hair. My eyes rove over her slender frame, appreciating the soft swell of her breasts and the dark, pert n*****s that instantly harden. I allow my gaze to skate down, finding that mound I finger f****d just a few hours ago. The women I f**k usually don't keep hair, but for some reason, on Bianca, its kind of hot.

"Do they hurt?" She asks, making me look up from her perky breasts to her face.

"No," I shake my head.

"Why?" She asks.

"Why not?" I shrug, stroking my index fingers down her front until I hook them inside her panties to push them down her legs.

"Does it hurt...women?"

"My piercings?"

"Yes," she nods slowly.

"No, they are for your pleasure," I note, using the word your because, well, because it feels right.

She nods as if trying to convince herself of my story, but it's obvious she's doubtful. Chuckling, I pull her into the shower with me, ensuring most of the spray covers her to keep her warm—forgoing my needs.

"We need to find you a dress," I note in a whisper, squirting body wash in my hand. I lather it up and then spread it across Bianca's skin, rubbing small circles to clean her thoroughly as I spread the bubbles I created.

"Emma gave me one," she shrugs nonchalantly.

"Well, then we're all set.You just need to make yourself look like the drop-dead gorgeous arm candy of the night," I smirk, grabbing her chin to release her lip from her teeth.

"Am I not pretty enough?" Her question caught me off guard, and her vulnerability was evident in her tone. I hadn't expected that.

"Yes, plenty pretty," I nod, confused as to why a girl as pretty as she would be asking me that off the back of a typical comment.

"So—."

"It's expected of us," I interrupt her, not liking where this conversation is going. Nodding slowly, she acknowledges me long enough to look into my eyes. I've hurt her.

I never set out to wound her with my words. Bianca's pretty, and I prefer her naked like this. Her face bare for me to admire.

Guilt punches my insides so hard I'm left winded.

"I have a few errands to run before we leave," I note, lying my arse off. The truth is I feel like s**t for implying she needs to make herself up, but I hadn't expected my words to wound her when it is normal that we demand our women keep to specific standards. Quickly, I wash before exiting the shower. "You have an hour," I say, my tone betraying my remorse, leaving her to tend to herself without so much as making eye contact.

Bianca is wearing a floor-length red dress that hugs her petite frame, accentuating every curve she owns. I feel like I hit the jackpot, having her hang on my arm, getting the looks of each Moretta man as we walk through Dimitri's home in anticipation of entering the grand room where their boss is holding the ceremony.

We're late, something I planned down to the very last second. It's better this way: less time surrounded by these nobheads and less time exposed to danger. I push through the grand doors to the crowded room that will change everything, finding eyes staring from every direction. I grit my teeth at the unwanted attention.

It's only seven steps inside the room until Densel pounces from nowhere. One moment, Bianca and I are walking, my hand covering the one she has looped through my arm. People were staring but also remaining quiet, and then there he was, storming before us, stopping with a cloud of red haze surrounding him.

It was comical until he demanded that I do something I would fight against him for the rest of my life not to do.

"Get your hands off her," Franko demands with a glare worthy of instant death.

"No," I state.

"Franko, please," Bianca's voice comes soft and breathy, pissing me the f**k off instantly. I fight looking at her, but I'm unsuccessful. Thankfully, she's looking to the floor, her attention very much not on him as I expected.

"Ah, Franko Densel, it's lovely to see you again," Luca's thick and domineering voice comes from beside us. He and Emma joined this little altercation before it really started.

"Emma, you can't allow this. There was a deal between your father and mine; Bianca belongs to me," Franko pleads, his desperation obvious and ridiculous. Turning my body away, I pretend I'm more interested in the men moving around the room, but I'm not. I want to snap the boy's neck to prevent him from ever laying eyes on Bianca again, let alone placing any part of him on her.

"I'm not my father; I won't force a marriage on her," Emma replies.

"You can't stop it; the agreement is set in stone. Your father was already paid, and she's my payment," Franko combusts, making Luca grab Emma to pull her back to safety. I mimic him with Bianca, getting a haughty look from Franko as I do.

"Funny, Franko. I don't see my father in this room. All agreements died with him, so you might want to visit Don Moretta's morgue to have it out with him. But then, perhaps you know more about his death than I do—" Emma subtly accuses.

"I know nothing," Franko baulks, shocked at the accusation in Emma's tone.

"Someone in this room does, and mark my words I'll find out who. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a job to do." Emma's words are met with silence, which makes me wonder how much Densel actually knows about her parent's deaths.

Is Bianca in danger? Emma too?

"This won't be the last you hear about this; my father won't lie down like Luca obviously does," Franko follows along behind them.

"Very well, Franko. Perhaps you'll be my first enemy. How joyous," Emma laughs.

"You b***h, you haven't got that title yet. It belongs to Bianca; go lay down under your husband and stay in your place!"

"Enough," Luca snarls. "Emma is the next Don Rossi. She'll be taking over in my name. All assets will pass between us, and we will rule with an iron fist over both cartels. If I ever hear you talk to my wife like that again, you'll be fertiliser for my plants."

"Stop," Franko's mother squeals as Luca makes Franko kneel before him. I smirk, I love that he's putting the mother fucker in his place. Suddenly, I felt comforted that Emma had Luca to protect her back.

"Do you understand, Franko?" Luca continues, ignoring Franko's mother completely.

"Yes," Franko nods unwillingly.

"Very good, stay the f**k away from my wife and sister-in-law. And keep far, far away from me."

Emma slips away quietly, leaving Luca to battle this alone. You'd think this was a wrong move before all these people, but it shows that she trusts Luca to honour her.

I follow behind Emma, dragging Bianca with me. We end up in the kitchen, where the girls sigh while looking at one another. I blend into the pantry, allowing Emma and Bianca to talk.

"You need to be more convincing; there's no way he'll give you up if you look at him with those gooey, lovesick eyes, Bee," Emma states quietly.

"I want him; I can't deny that attraction, Emm," Bianca's words slice through me, and yet I hear no truth in them.

"You'll want Niko in time. Give it time, Bee."

"Niko hates me; you all do. Why can't I leave and be happy somewhere else?" Bianca begs, though even from here, I can hear how fruitless she thinks her words are.

"Because you know too much! You stay, you live, or you go, and you die. It's your f*****g choice, Bee," Emma fumes the truth.

"Some f*****g choice! f**k, I hate you," Bianca screams her anguish. That's about all I can deal with; I hate that she feels trapped—I know that feeling well. I hate that feeling.

Slipping out of the back of the pantry, I escape into the hidden utility room—re-entering the house through the hall, where InoteLuca leaning back against the side unit opposite the kitchen. Like me, he is listening to Emma's and Bianca's conversation. I remain stoic, leaning back against the wall to hide out.

"How long have you been there?" Emma asks Luca when she comes out.

"Long enough, Bambina. We've got to get back in there. The ceremony starts in a few minutes," he states.

"We'd better get my sister, then. Can you deposit her with Niko for me? I don't think I can stomach seeing her again."

"No need," I call, realising this is the best opportunity to reveal I'm here. "I'll collect her myself. You're both being summoned."

"Oh good, she's in a foul mood. Good luck," Emma tells me, so I nod. How she forgot I was with them when we entered the kitchen confounds me, but she had a one-tracked mind.

When I enter the kitchen, Bianca shovels food into her mouth. The vision of her purging makes me smile. It's so unladylike that it makes me swoon.

"Hungry?" I ask.

"Go away!" She growls unhappily.

"Come on, Bee, give me something positive to remember this night by," I beg.

"You won your little pissing contest; congratulations..."

"You wound me, Bee."

"You wound yourself," she points out.

"Touche," I agree.

"You gonna pretend you didn't hear any of that?"

"Don't have a clue what you're talking 'bout," I shirt off her comment, reaching inside my pocket to bring out a spliff.

"Yeah, okay," she chuckles.

"It's time to go, Bee."

"So soon?"

"So soon," I confirm.

She rolls her eyes but jumps down from the counter, abandoning her food to follow me.