LOGINDIABLO
This is not how tonight was supposed to go. I only came here to check out the place before tomorrow night's drop. The plan was simple, come in, look around, and see what kind of trouble might come up. That's it. The first thing I notice is that this bar is a dump. The lights are dim and yellow, the kind that make everything look tired and old. The table in front of me is cracked and sticky, the seat lumpy and worn down. It's the kind of place that smells like spilled beer and old smoke. Not where I usually spend my nights. All I have to do is finish my drink and get out without anyone remembering my face. That's the plan. But then I go and break every rule I've ever set for myself. And for what? Because some woman happened to catch my eye? There are thousands of women in this city, I could have chosen any one of them. But no, fate decided to throw her in my path tonight. Why her? Why now? Maybe fate just enjoys watching me lose control. She's working behind the bar, moving fast, keeping her head down. She doesn't know it yet, but she's standing right in the middle of something dangerous. The Rossi Cartel picked this place for tomorrow night's drop, the one job that could fix everything for me. Maybe it's a test, maybe it's a trap, or maybe it's fate trying to screw with me. I tell myself to stay focused. I need to keep my mind on the job. Brian's outside checking the exits, cameras, and alarms. I just need to sit here, drink my beer, and watch the owner. No talking. No distractions. But then I did what I swore I wouldn't. I talked to her. I even stopped a guy from drenching her in beer. Then I told her to take tomorrow night off. What the hell was I thinking? Every move I made tonight could have given me away. Might as well have hung a neon sign outside saying something big is going down and the Romano family knows about it. She doesn't know how beautiful she is. April Morgan. That's her name. She hides behind her hair, keeps her eyes low like she doesn't want to be seen. She flinched when I brushed a loose strand off her face. There's something fragile about her, something that makes me want to protect her even when I know I shouldn't. Her eyes are what get me. Bright blue, deep enough to drown in. They shine even in this filthy light, like the sea near the Amalfi coast. But she doesn't use them much, barely makes eye contact with the customers. I wonder what she's scared of. Maybe it's her boss. Every time he shouts, she shrinks a little, like she's been through this before. It makes my stomach twist with anger. I want to pull her out of this place, show her something better, something clean. I imagine what her life must be like. Shy girl from out of town, came here chasing a dream, ended up stuck in this rundown bar. But she's got fire in her. I can see it when she talks about Rome. Her face lights up when she says it. She wants to go there someday. I told her she should. I even said she'd love it. For a second, she smiled like she believed it was possible. Her boss keeps peeking out of his office, eyes darting around. He knows something's off. He sees me and ducks back in, probably worried the Rossi Cartel will pull the deal if anything feels wrong. He's nervous, that much is clear. I can tell this job is bigger than anything he's handled before. He yells at the bartenders, but mostly at her. When he shouted at April, I almost broke his neck right there. But I can't do that. Not tonight. Not when I'm this close to getting my clean slate. This job is everything. If it goes right, I can finally disappear. Start over. If it goes wrong, I won't be alive long enough to regret it. I've checked the layout. The back door opens into a small courtyard where the smokers hang out. It's perfect for a fast exit. Everything's set. I should get up, meet Brian, and get out of here. So why did I order another drink? Why did I stay? Why did I tell her to take tomorrow night off? I don't know. Maybe part of me wanted to warn her, to keep her safe. But that's not my job. She's not part of this world. She doesn't belong in it. Still, I can't stop watching her. April Morgan. I know her name now, and tomorrow I'll know everything about her. She's perfect in ways she doesn't even realize. Mid-length dark hair that curls slightly at the ends, soft waves that catch the light. She's got that natural beauty that doesn't need any effort. She's probably in her early twenties, far too young for me. Hell, I'm at least fifteen years older, and I've got too much blood on my hands to ever deserve someone like her. But I can't look away. It's not just her looks. It's the way she moves, the quiet rhythm she taps on the bar when she's bored, the way her fingers dance as if she's hearing music no one else can. Every detail sticks in my head, one after another, pulling me in deeper. When she talks about Rome, her whole face lights up. For a moment, she forgets where she is, and I can see the dream in her eyes. She loves Italy, takes language classes, even wears a little pin shaped like the Colosseum. Maybe I could take her there. The thought is stupid, and I know it. I'll be gone soon, erased like I never existed. My name will vanish, and I'll be a ghost in another country. She deserves more than that. Abel always said no relationships. They're a weakness, a distraction. You can't run clean if someone's holding you back. And he's right. So I'll stare, but I won't act. That's what I keep telling myself. But then she glances back at me, just for a second, and I see something in her eyes. Curiosity. Maybe even hunger. And that's when I know I need to leave. If her boss sees her looking at me, he'll start asking questions, and I can't afford that. Not now. Not when tomorrow night decides everything. It's time to go. But even as I stand, I can still feel her eyes on me. And I already know I'll see her again.APRILIt's the end of the night, and I'm tired all the way down to my bones. Joe hasn't come out of his office once, so it's been up to Jammie and me to clean everything and get the place ready for tomorrow. I knock on his office door, but all he does is turn up the volume on his TV. I can hear it clearly - reruns of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, his favorite show and the reason he named this bar Goody's. He's doing it on purpose. He doesn't want us asking about our paychecks again.I knock once more, but still nothing. So I go back to wiping down the counter, trying not to think about the guy who came in tonight. But it's hard. Something about him keeps looping in my mind. Not just the way I wanted to throw myself into his arms when he walked up, or that calm confidence he had, the kind that makes everyone else in the room feel smaller. Not even the way he got me to talk about my dream of moving to Rome - a dream I've never told anyone before.It was the way he looked at me wh
DIABLO I take one last look at her, committing the image to memory. If she's still here when I come back tomorrow, we'll both be in deep trouble. Big trouble. I drink her in, trying to fix every detail in my head, the tilt of her neck, the little way she cocks her head when she listens, that shy smile that hints at something more. Desire hides behind it, barely contained. I could stand here for hours watching her, but I won't.Maybe fate put her in my path to test me. She loves Rome, she's learning Italian, she likes bowling, her voice is like soft liquid silk that slips into my ears, her pink lips look made for kissing, her body is shaped so my hands would want to trace her curves. Stop it. Just because she shares my tastes doesn't mean she wants to throw away her life and start anew in a foreign country for my sake. She has a life here, people who care about her. I can't ask her to drop all of that for me. Besides, getting two sets of escape papers would be much harder than get
DIABLOThis is not how tonight was supposed to go. I only came here to check out the place before tomorrow night's drop. The plan was simple, come in, look around, and see what kind of trouble might come up. That's it.The first thing I notice is that this bar is a dump. The lights are dim and yellow, the kind that make everything look tired and old. The table in front of me is cracked and sticky, the seat lumpy and worn down. It's the kind of place that smells like spilled beer and old smoke. Not where I usually spend my nights.All I have to do is finish my drink and get out without anyone remembering my face. That's the plan. But then I go and break every rule I've ever set for myself.And for what? Because some woman happened to catch my eye? There are thousands of women in this city, I could have chosen any one of them. But no, fate decided to throw her in my path tonight.Why her? Why now? Maybe fate just enjoys watching me lose control.She's working behind the bar, moving fast
APRILI slip behind the bar, back into the familiar rhythm of work. For the next hour, it's non-stop - orders flying, glasses clinking, the crowd's noise growing thicker by the minute. As kickoff time nears, the line starts to shrink. Most people settle into their seats, their eyes glued to the massive screen on the back wall.Finally, I catch a breath. Jammie squeezes my shoulder and grins at me. "You doing all right, little kitten?""Fine and dandy, momma cat," I reply, forcing a smile.She raises an eyebrow. "You wondering what happened to the jerk who decided to baptize you with beer?""I'm guessing nothing. Joe never kicks out a paying customer."Jammie laughs and shakes her head. "Well, guess what? The tall drink of danger who's been giving you those dark, smoldering eyes all night came over, picked that guy up like a bag of sand, and tossed him into the street. Didn't say a single word."I blink at her. "You're kidding.""Nope. Saw the whole thing. His date tried to flirt with
APRILThe first time I spot the devil is about thirty seconds before an ice-cold beer hits me in the face.He's sitting in a booth at the far end of Goody's Bar when it happens. He's not drinking, not talking, just watching me. His eyes are dark, sharp, and heavy with danger, the kind that sends a chill down your spine even when you're trying to pretend you don't notice.His hair is neatly cut, black as midnight. His suit matches it-tailored, expensive, and so dark it almost swallows the light around him. If fire suddenly started licking at his sleeves, it wouldn't surprise me. He looks like someone flames belong to.I'm behind the bar, pretending to be busy pouring drinks, but I can feel his stare burning through me. He's got the stillness of a predator, waiting for the right moment to strike. I know I should be terrified, but instead, my pulse is picking up.His features are carved like stone: a jawline that could split logs, tanned skin, faint lines around his eyes that only make h







