All Chapters of Dangerous Game: The Devil's Secretary : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The screaming in this household every now and then was not the worst part of living here.Not the blood also, we were used to blood. It was the sound of our own voice that had slowly been silenced due to years of pain. On one of the days, as usual a kid was dragged into the house. He was a six-year-old boy whose world had just been incinerated right before his eyes. His name was Lorenzo, the last of us, and the final mistake our father had dragged home. He’d been pulled through the front doors by his hair, his small shoes scuffing against the marble, howling for a mother who was currently bleeding to death on a sidewalk somewhere across the city.I stood in the gallery with the other brothers, my hands tucked behind my back, my face a mask of stone. Inside, I was vibrating. I wanted to reach out, to tell him to be quiet, because silence was the only armor we had. But to show pity was to sign your own death warrant."He’s way too loud," our father remarked, dusting off his lapel as if

I have spent my entire life building a cage made of scar tissue and broken bones, and I call it a personality.To the world, I am Rocco Giordano, the blunt instrument, the brother who doesn't negotiate, the one who enjoys the wet thud of a fist against ribs. I wear my brutality like a suit of armor because if I didn't, people might see the shivering boy still hiding in the shadows of my mind. I fear looking weak because in our world, the weak are harvested. But more than that, I fear the silence of a house where my brothers no longer breathe.That’s why seeing Dante lately makes my blood boil.Dante used to be made of stone and ice. Now? He’s grown soft. I’ve watched him hover over Liam, that little stray he picked up, like a man possessed. At first, I thought Liam was just a toy, a momentary distraction to dull the edge of the chronic pain in Dante's head. But then came the fallout with Antonio. And I find out that Liam wasn't just a stray, but a spy, a tiny cop with a badge and a mi

The sound of his voice, that low, resonant masculine sound coming out from his throat shattered the last remaining pillar of my sanity.The confirmation that he was truly a man made me feel a surge of nausea so violent I thought I’d heave right there on the carpet. My skin crawled and I felt like a thousand ants were about to eat me from the inside out.Then I looked at his face…that beautiful, haunting face and all I could see was the alleyway and all I could hear was the gunshot that killed the only thing I’d ever found pretty as a child.The attraction I’d felt minutes ago curdled into a toxic, burning rage. It was a defense mechanism, a frantic attempt to bury the broken part of me under a mountain of hate."You’re a freak," I hissed, the words dripping from my mouth like acid. I didn't let go of his wrist as I shouted at his face, I squeezed until I heard the faint protest of his bones. "You’re a disgusting, unnatural piece of trash. You think you can put on some paint on your fac

I sat in the silence inside my SUV, the sound broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the cooling engine and the sound of my own breathing. I stared at the neon Elysium sign until the letters blurred into a shapeless, glowing smear.Why didn’t I break his hand?The question Dante had thrown at me was a poison circulating in my veins. I am a Giordano. I was raised in a pit of vipers where the only response to a strike was a lethal counter-strike. Yet, when that hand had connected with my face, I hadn't moved. I had just stood there, paralyzed by a pair of emerald eyes that looked at me with more courage than I’d ever felt in my entire life.It wasn't an obsession. It was a correction. That’s what I told myself. I was going to find that damned lady boy and drag him into the dirt, as I snapped the wrist that dared to touch me. Then he’d never hold those silks again. He’d be just another broken thing in a city full of wreckage.So I waited patiently as the club finally emptied. The high ro

The first one lunged at me, a clumsy, telegraphed swing that smelled of desperation and cheap cigarettes. I didn't even have to think. I stepped inside his guard, the movement fluid and practiced, and buried my fist into his solar plexus. The air left him in a sickening woosh, and before he could even double over, I brought my knee up into his face.The sound of his nose shattering was like dry kindling snapping under a boot. It was music to my ears."My turn," I whispered, a manic grin stretching my face.I was bored and I was angry. I was a man who had spent the night being humiliated by a dancer and dismissed by my brother. I needed to break something at least to calm my nerves and these fuckers thankfully offered themselves as a sacrifice to be beaten. I grabbed the second man by the throat, hoisting him against the brick wall. He clawed at my arm, his eyes bulging, but I just laughed, an unhinged sound that echoed off the damp walls. I rained punches into his ribs, feeling the b