All Chapters of Bound To The Devil's contract : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Morning didn’t come in quiet. It came in black SUVs. I knew something was wrong before I even opened my eyes because the house was already humming. Not the normal staff-moving-around hum. The kind of hum that sounds like a held breath. By seven the front courtyard looked like we were expecting a president. Black cars lined up past the gates. Men in suits that cost more than my college tuition got out and didn’t smile at anyone. They carried briefcases. Leo once told me briefcases in this house were just polite gun cases. I was on the second floor landing with a mug of coffee that I wasn’t drinking when Mrs. Bellini rushed past with a garment bag over her arm. “What is all this?” I asked. She didn’t stop. “The gala, dear.” “For charity?” She finally paused and gave me that look mothers give you when you’re being naive. “The charity is real.” I waited. She zipped the bag shut. “The people attending are not.” Great. By nine the mansion had stopped pretending to b

Bianca didn’t knock. She never knocked. "Get dressed," she said, standing in Elena’s doorway at 9:15 with sunglasses on and two coffees in her hands. Elena looked up from the book she wasn’t reading. "For?" "Because if I spend another hour in this mausoleum I’ll start haunting it," Bianca said. She set one coffee on the nightstand. "And you’ll come with me so I have someone to talk to." Elena took the coffee. It was still hot. "Dante will say no." "Then we’ll make him say yes," Bianca said, already walking to the closet. "Now. Pants. Not the black ones." Elena laughed. She hadn’t meant to. Ten minutes later she was in jeans and a sweater. Dante was in the study. File open. Pen down. He didn’t look up when they came in. "No," he said. Bianca folded her arms. "That’s your final answer?" "Y

The club was empty at 3 PM and it was supposed to be that way.Dark wood. Low lights. The air smelled like whiskey, lemon oil, and the ghost of last night’s cigarette smoke even though no one had smoked inside in years. The piano on the small stage was closed. Two staff were setting tables with cloth napkins and glasses that caught the light. No music. Just the sound of chairs scraping and someone sweeping in the back."Mr. DeLuca," Matteo said from the host stand. He’d been here since Marco opened the place ten years ago. "Your office is ready. Ana already put your water out.""Thank you, Matteo," Marco said. He didn’t go to the office.He went to the bar instead. He liked it better when the room was empty. When it was his. Before the reservations and the suits and the people who came here to be seen.Ana was behind the bar polishing glasses. She didn’t look up. "You’re early.""I’m always early," Marco said, sitting down."You’re early and you look like you didn’t sleep."Marco d

*DANTE*The gates opened before Marco’s car hit the drive.I was watching from the second floor window. I didn’t tell security to open them.Lorenzo did.That meant Marco had called him on the way here. That meant they’d already decided how this was going to go before they decided to tell me.The black SUV rolled to a stop. One car. No convoy. Just Marco and a driver who stayed in the vehicle with the engine running.Lorenzo was already on the front steps when I got down there. Hands in his pockets. Face blank.The passenger door opened. Marco stepped out. Dark coat. No tie. Hair still damp from the rain. He looked at Lorenzo, then at me on the porch, and smiled like we were meeting for drinks.Lorenzo didn’t move. “Keys. Phone. Jacket.”Marco raised an eyebrow. “You’re frisking me?”“I’m making sure you’re not wearing a wire or a grenade,” Lorenzo said. “Big difference.”Marco sighed and held his arms out. “Fine. But if you find anything, it’s because I forgot to take it off after l

*ELENA*I didn’t go back to my room. If I did I would start thinking about everything Dante said in the office, and if I started thinking I would start crying, and I was so tired of crying over things I couldn’t change that my face felt raw and my head hurt. The estate was quieter than usual. That was the first thing I noticed when I walked out of the office. Guards stood at every entrance with their hands resting too close to their jackets and they were talking into earpieces in low voices. Ever since Marco came here yesterday the whole house felt like someone had turned the volume up on danger. Everyone was looking over their shoulder before they looked ahead. Everyone except me. I was done looking over their shoulder. I ended up in the greenhouse because it was the only place in this house that didn’t smell like gun oil and coffee and men making decisions without me. The air was warm and damp and it smelled like dirt and roses and something green that I couldn’t name. M