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He knows what I do for a living.
I suspect he knows whom I do, also.
He wants you, the Devil in me whispers.
I always listen to my Devil.
She controls my future.
Sometimes, I get antsy in this small town. One I stumbled upon after listening to her voice, following the pit stop of a groupie tour bus.
I’d call her Fate if it weren’t for the series of bad decisions I’ve made.
My Devil encouraged me to stay here.
She wiped away my conscience and begged me to sleep with Angelo De Luca, a man unfit to run his own syndicate let alone lay his hands on me.
I know I am my Devil, but I prefer distancing myself from the blame.
Because now, I live trapped in a world of four mafia syndicates pitted against one another.
Andretti versus Romano.
Camerino versus Rossi.
Two fractured coasts, warring within themselves.
And the fifth syndicate, cast to the side.
The De Luca syndicate.
Undeserving. A breeding ground for resentment. Ridiculed as inconsequential for centuries. Run by a mad man whose attention I have caught.
Father Luciano clears his throat and, perhaps, his lust. “Do you feel guilt, my child?”
“Yes.”
Not to Angelo De Luca.
Not to his wife.
To my child.
A girl, my Devil predicts.
If my Devil is right, she will die in this town like me. Insignificant. An illegitimate princess unable to claim her throne.
Surely, there’s a better way.
Run.
The urge seizes me once again.
I feel it down to my toes.
“Guilt is a weight on your shoulder. Your body’s way of telling you to pause. Think. Make better decisions. Repent.”
My repentance will not matter once Angelo De Luca discovers I am pregnant.
