The Devil's Inferno

ALMA MARTELLI

Everything happened in a blur. From the moment Zita walked down the aisle to when they exchanged their fake vows and tied the knot. I couldn’t pay attention to how my only sister was being thrown away like a dirty rag. It broke my heart even more knowing that I was next.

Zita Martelli, beautiful and soulless in her wedding dress, had just gotten married to one of the most ruthless mafia bosses in New York. Enzo Bianchi.

She never wanted this marriage. She had only been forced into it as a pawn in an alliance deal. That was what became of all the women in the mafia world. And that was not the life I wanted for her or myself.

By the time the reception began, I was drowning myself at the open bar. I couldn’t survive the night sober.

“Something strong,” I told the bartender, my eyes drifting toward my sister.

Zita stood beside her husband, smiling for the guests. But when her gaze flicked to me, the sadness in her eyes made my chest cave in. It was a silent cry for help that I couldn’t answer. I looked away before my already aching heart shattered completely.

The bartender returned with my drink, and I gulped it down immediately. I tipped the glass forward. “More.”

I kept requesting more and more, chugging them down hastily. I didn’t want to feel anything after the party tonight. I wanted to be numb to the pain and loneliness that were waiting to wash over me.

“I thought I was the only one who wasn’t enjoying the party,” I suddenly heard a baritone voice say from behind me, and I jumped in my seat, startled.

I almost fell off the stool, but a strong hand caught me before I tipped over, giving me enough time to balance myself.

Then I lifted my head to look at who it was. The darkest eyes I’d ever seen stared into mine. He had a fine face, but his aura screamed darkness and dominance. I had no doubt that his heart was as dark as his black tailored suit.

His presence unsettled me… and thrilled me.

I shifted on the stool and forced myself to look away. “Why aren’t you enjoying it? The food’s great.”

He gave a low, humorless chuckle and slid onto the seat beside me. “And yet here you are, getting drunk instead.”

I swallowed hard against my throat, saying nothing in response. I didn’t know if it was the effect of the alcohol, but this man’s voice alone was doing sinful things to my body.

He gestured for the bartender and ordered a drink before looking back at me. “So, who are you here for, beautiful?”

I stiffened when his fingers wrapped around my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

His dark eyes bored into mine as he commanded, “When I speak, you look at me.”

My heart pounded against my chest. I despised being controlled, despised everything about the Mafia’s twisted rules. But tell me why this type of dominance aroused me?

Fuck. Am I losing my mind?

“I’m the bride’s sister,” I blurted out.

And as if my words had ignited something dark in him, he tightened his fingers around my chin, his eyes narrowing like a storm.

“Alma Martelli,” he groaned.

The rage and hatred that replaced the mysterious look in his eyes told me that I shouldn’t be speaking with this man.

Whoever he was, he was my father’s enemy.

“Excuse me, please,” I tried to stand, but his hand pressed firmly against my shoulder, pinning me to the seat.

He leaned in close, his hot breath brushing my ear, making desire spread through my entire body.

“You’re not going anywhere until I say so,” he whispered against my ear.

Before I could react, my father’s roar cut through the room.

“Get your hands off her!”

Before I knew what was happening, the man beside me pulled me to my feet and locked his arm around my neck.

“And what if I don’t?” he groaned, malice thick in his voice.

I struggled to break free and run towards Papa, but the damn man tightened his arm around me and pulled me even closer.

“You stay with me, Alma. Until it’s over. I will protect you from it.” He murmured so lowly that only I could hear.

Protect me from what? Himself? I wondered.

A crowd had already gathered around us, everyone eagerly watching to see what would happen next.

All of a sudden, gunshots rang out around us, and screams exploded through the air. Chaos erupted, with everyone either running or taking cover. At first, I thought it was from my father’s men, but I soon realized that he was equally shocked. This wasn’t his doing.

Panic surged through me, and my first instinct was to get to my sister.

I forcefully yanked the mysterious man’s grip away from my neck, and I turned in Zita’s direction, just in time to see a bullet rip through her chest.

Our eyes met, and she opened her mouth to say something, but she collapsed to the ground instead.