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60. FIRE
Date de publication:
2026-04-03 23:20:27
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PROTECTED BY THE DEVIL 61. Breakfast on the Beach
ROCCOI woke up early the next day. Not that I sleep much—I never do. But there, with Diana curled up on my chest, the sun slipping through the curtains, the sound of the ocean down below… I could almost pretend I was a normal guy.I got up without waking her, pulled on some shorts and a shirt, and headed to the kitchen. Made coffee, warmed up the bread Leilani had left, cut up some fruit.I found a picnic basket in the cupboard—one of those wicker ones with a leather strap—and packed everything inside. A thermos of coffee, the bread, the fruit, a jar of jam, two plates, two cups.Went back to the bedroom. Diana was still asleep, her dark hair spread across the pillow, her mouth slightly open, breathing calm.Fucking beautiful."Baby." I touched her shoulder. "Wake up."She mumbled, rolling over."Five more minutes.""No. Get up now.""Why?""Because I have a surprise."She cracked one eye open, suspicious."A surprise?""Just come on."She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes, and when sh
PROTECTED BY THE DEVIL 60. FIRE
DIANAThe scream that ripped out of me got swallowed by the wood of the desk. He was too big, too thick, and the feeling of being filled up all at once, no warning, no time to adjust—it was pain and pleasure at the same time, that thin line he loved to walk."Like that?" He asked, his cock buried inside me, stretching me."More.""More what?""Deeper."He grabbed my waist with both hands and started.This wasn't love. Wasn't tenderness. It was raw, visceral fucking—the kind that leaves your body sore the next day and your mind empty of any thought except his name.Rocco fucked me hard, deep thrusts that made the desk creak and slam against the wall. Each drive pushed me forward, and I had to hold onto the edge of the wood so I wouldn't fall. My breasts bounced loose, and the sound of his body hitting mine was obscene, wet, constant.He didn't say anything. Just breathed heavy, grunting low with each stroke, and the silence made everything more intense—just the noise of the wood, skin
PROTECTED BY THE DEVIL 59. Dressed in Nothing
DIANAThat night, I decided to push it.Rocco was in the office—this tiny little room he’d turned into his command center, with a monitor, a walkie-talkie, and a map of the island tacked to the wall. Luca was in his room, playing some game on his computer with headphones on.The house was quiet.I took a long shower, smoothed coconut oil all over my body—the kind I’d bought at that little market by the beach—and picked out my outfit.Or, more like, the lack of one.I put on one of his robes. The black silk one. Nothing underneath. The fabric slid over my skin like water, hanging open in the front, tied loose at the waist. You could see pretty much everything. Almost.I padded down the stairs slowly, bare feet barely making a sound. The office door was cracked open, a sliver of light spilling out.I pushed it with my fingertips.Rocco had his back to me, leaning over the desk, staring at something on the monitor. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the cuffs, rolled up to his elbows, sho
PROTECTED BY THE DEVIL 58. Jealousy
ROCCOA couple days later, I hired a local team to take care of the house.A Hawaiian cook named Leilani, a gardener who barely spoke English, and a new maid—the daughter of a local fisherman. Simple people. Didn’t ask questions. That’s all I cared about.The problem was the maid’s son.The kid showed up the first day to help his mom carry boxes. Early twenties. Strong. Tan. That easy smile guys have when life’s never punched them in the fucking mouth. He hung around after, “organizing” shit that didn’t need organizing.And ever since, he hadn’t stopped looking at Diana.Not just glances. Full-on stares. The kind where you can feel his eyes crawling all over her like ants on honey. I caught him the second day. Third day, he was finding reasons to walk past wherever she was sitting. Fourth day, I was already mentally burying him in a shallow grave.She didn’t help.Today she’s wearing this little yellow dress. The kind that barely covers her ass. Brown hair loose, blowing in the wind.
PROTECTED BY THE DEVIL 57. The Taste of Routine
ROCCOThe property was fucking awesome.Isolated enough that no one bothered us, close enough to the sea to feel like a vacation, and with a setup that didn’t lack for anything. Pool. Grill. Huge porch with a hammock. Fully stocked kitchen. I could live here for the rest of my life without ever stepping foot in a big city again.And the best part? No one from the Cosa Nostra around.Diana was in the pool, floating on her back in that tiny black bikini she loved. Her brown hair spread out in the water like seaweed, eyes closed, face turned to the sun.I was on the porch, finishing up some coffee, when Luca showed up with his laptop under his arm.“I traced the email’s origin,” he said, sitting in the chair next to me. “Wasn’t easy, but I found it.”“Who sent it?”“Alessandro himself.”My blood ran cold.“What?”“He wrote it to himself, like it was from someone else.” Luca looked at me over his glasses. “He might be testing you, Rocco.”I took a deep breath, processing.“Does he know so
PROTECTED BY THE DEVIL 56. Paradise
DIANAI woke up to the sound of waves crashing below, so close I felt like I could reach out and grab the foam through the window.I opened my eyes slowly. The bed was huge—one of those canopy deals with a mosquito net swaying in the breeze. White sheets, cool, crumpled from our bodies all night. Outside, the sun was already high, slipping through the gaps in the linen curtains and painting gold stripes across the light wood floor.Rocco wasn’t next to me.I sat up, my hair falling over my shoulders, and looked around. The room was beautiful—rustic in that way that looks simple but costs a fucking fortune. Exposed stone walls, reclaimed wood furniture, a fluffy rug that sank under my feet when I stood up.I heard noise from the kitchen.I got up, grabbed his t-shirt off the floor—the same one I’d worn yesterday—and went downstairs barefoot. The wood creaked softly under my steps, and the smell of fresh coffee got stronger with every stair.When I got to the kitchen, I almost stopped i
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