All Chapters of PROTECTED BY THE DEVIL: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

116 Chapters

51. Alessandro Knows Something

DIANAI woke to pale dawn light filtering through the curtains, the feel of soft sheets against my bare skin giving me a brief moment of comfort before I realized I was alone in bed. My hand reached out for Rocco’s side, but all I found was cold fabric. I sat up slowly, pushing messy hair out of my face, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of him.“Rocco?” I called softly, but silence was the only answer.I got up, still half-dazed, and walked to the closet. I pulled one of Rocco’s shirts off a hanger and slipped it on. His scent still clung to the fabric.I left the bedroom, my bare feet padding quietly across the cold floor. As I made my way toward the stairs, I heard a male voice coming from downstairs—one I didn’t recognize right away. My heart picked up speed, and instinctively, I stopped, pressing close to the wall and listening hard.“…Don Alessandro is worried about you,” the voice said. “He wanted to know how your recovery’s going.”Rocco answered, his voice cool and contr

52. This Was Too Close

DIANAI felt my blood boil. Girls like Diana. What the hell did that miserable bastard Domenico mean by that? I clenched my fists, forcing myself not to make a sound that would give me away. Who the hell was he to talk about me like that?“What man could handle that little hellion for more than three days?” I heard Domenico say with a forced little laugh.I looked at Rocco, holding my breath, waiting for his reaction. He kept his expression serious, giving a small nod of agreement.“Yeah, the girl’s a handful.”I was hit with a wave of both anger and relief. Anger that he’d agreed, even if it was part of the act, and relief that he’d managed to keep up the front.He better be bluffing, or he’s going to have to deal with me, I thought, biting my lip hard.Domenico took another deep breath, glancing around the bedroom. “I need to go. I’ve got better things to do than indulge some junior senator’s paranoia.”I watched as he left the room, my anxious mind about to collapse. It wasn’t unti

53. The Way Out

ROCCOThe street was poorly lit, the streetlights flickering on and off, throwing dancing shadows between the run-down buildings. A row of prostitutes lined the curb, their short, shiny clothes standing out against the darkness. I scanned them with a calculating eye, looking for the one who’d fit the plan best.Then I saw her. A tall woman with a curvy figure that set her apart from the others. Her hair was dark, but that didn’t matter. I had the fix for that.“You,” I called out. She squinted at me, suspicious at first, but then she sauntered over, her hips swinging a little too deliberately.“Looking for some fun, handsome?” she asked, her voice dripping with implication.“No.” I cut her off, ignoring the act. “I need you to wear this.” I pulled a blonde wig from inside my jacket and handed it to her. “Put it on. Now.”She let out a raspy, slightly sarcastic laugh as she took the wig from my hand. “So you like the blondes, huh? Sure thing, sweetheart, whatever you want.” She put the

54. Cash for Safety

ROCCOThe sun was high overhead, burning the back of my neck as I walked across the perfectly manicured lawn of the farm. The sound of waves crashing against the beach in the distance was constant, almost calming, but I knew I couldn’t afford to relax. Not while there was still business to close.The real estate agent—a scrawny, jittery guy—wouldn’t stop yapping beside me, like some fucking parakeet trying to convince me this was the best farm on the whole island.“This property is simply exceptional, sir,” he droned, his tone so servile it grated on me more with every word. “Two stories, the best ocean view you’ll find around here. And of course, the isolation… there’s not a single soul within a ten-kilometer radius, just as you requested.”I barely listened, my eyes fixed on the scene ahead. Diana stood there, talking with a local woman while playing with her kids on the grass. The sight of her, that blonde hair catching the wind, mixed with the sound of children laughing. She looke

55. Here, You’re Mine

ROCCO The night was quiet, and I was lying in a hammock on the farm's veranda, just wearing a pair of pants, the soft sea breeze brushing against my skin. Diana was curled up on my chest, her body fitting against mine in a way that felt as natural as breathing.We watched the waves breaking in the distance, the sound constant and rhythmic, almost hypnotic. Even at night, the water was still an incredible, shimmering blue, reflecting the moonlight that hung high in the sky.She broke the silence first, her voice low and soft, barely a whisper."It's beautiful." I could hear the smile in her voice.I tilted my head to see her gazing at the sea, her eyes wide and a little dreamy, like she was hypnotized by it.I couldn't help but smile, seeing her like this. So at peace. So far from the life she'd left behind.She wrapped her arms around my torso, pressing herself tighter against me, and the heat of her body spread through mine.Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind, and the quiet stillne

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

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

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.

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

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

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