DEVIL:
I'm going to break her heart again.
And I hate myself for it.
Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, I take a slow drag from my cigarette, watching the city lights flicker like a sky full of stars. The smoke curls around me, thick and suffocating—or maybe it's the guilt pressing down on my chest.
This is usually where I find peace. But tonight, peace is nowhere to be found.
Is it because of Salem? David? James? Russo?
No. The answer is fear.
The truth that haunts me. The weight of it sits heavy in my bones, clawing at my insides like a beast I can't escape.
I turn, my gaze falling to the delicate figure lying in my bed. A dream I've always wanted to touch, to claim, to make mine.
Her long hair spills over my pillow, the sheets tangled around her body. And I know—without even moving closer—that my bed now smells like her. Like strawberries. Like something sweet and innocent.
And for a brief, irrational moment, jealousy burns through me. I want to tear those sheets away because only I should have the privilege to smell like her.
But I hold myself back.
Because this moment—the one I've spent years wanting, craving—has finally come true.
And yet, just when I have her within reach, time is slipping through my fingers like sand. I have too little of it left to admire what I've waited for. Too little time before I ruin it all. Remembering the conversation I had last night with Abby.
I watched as Raven struck Abby again, the sharp crack echoing through the room. Pain flickered across her face, but she was a tough one. A hard nut to crack.
She still refused to give us a name. Instead, that stubborn little thing lifted her gaze and looked straight at me.
I needed a coffee. Badly.
And I needed to see my Estrellita.
The thought of her was the only thing keeping my mood from turning completely sour. Knowing she cared—actually cared—about me had put me in a damn good mood this morning.
Only for this shitstorm to drag me right back down. Last night, she saved me. She chose to save me. She could have ignored me, called for help, walked away and let me suffer. But she didn't.
And I haven't stopped smiling since.
I've been in love with this girl since the moment I understood what love was. I've dreamed of waking up beside her, tangled in the same bedsheet, her raven hair splayed across my pillow as she sleeps with her arms wrapped around me.
And last night, I got a glimpse of that dream.
Even with my arm stiff from her using it as a pillow, I didn't dare move. I just lay there, memorizing every second, soaking in the warmth of her body against mine. And when she opened those ocean-blue eyes, I drowned all over again.
"You think you're doing some good in this world, Devil?" Abby's voice shattered my beautiful moment like glass.
My jaw clenched as darkness replaced the softness I'd felt just moments ago. I wanted to kill her—slowly, painfully—for dragging me back into this hell. "Have you told her yet?" I ignored her.
"So you're fucking Brown's daughter and still haven't told her the truth?" Abby let out a mocking laugh. "What a fate, huh? Just like your father. Don't tell me—you've fallen for her. Or is this all just revenge?"
My teeth gritted so hard it hurt. "Shut up."
I knew better than to give her the leverage of my emotions. But when it came to her, I always lost control.
"You can shut me up all you want. But the truth is the truth." Abby's voice dripped with venom. "She's going to hate you either way."
Hate me.
She's going to hate me.
Hate me.
"Stop!" I roared. My voice shook the walls. I stalked toward her, eyes blazing with unfiltered rage. "You don't have the privilege to speak your mind here. You only open your mouth when we ask you to. Understand?"
Abby smirked through her bloodied lips. "Shush me all you want, Romano. But you can't silence fate." She leaned forward, eyes gleaming with something cruel.
"History repeats itself." A slow, chilling smile spread across her face. "Now all I have to do is wait for a Brown to kill a Romano again."
I pulled on my shirt, buttoning it up with steady hands. My pants. My watch. But I didn't bother with cologne—I wanted her scent to stay on me.
Even though, when she finds out the truth, she'll hate me. She'll hate me so much that I don't even know if there'll be a way back. But I will find a way back to her. I always do.
With a final glance, I slipped my gun into the back of my waistband, pressed a lingering kiss to her sleeping forehead, and walked out the door.
Next stop: Alessandro Russo.
Rio and I moved in sync, side by side. Last night, Mark tracked Salem's location—somewhere in a port near Texas. He hasn't moved in over 24 hours. That only meant one thing. He's being held. By Russo.
I kept my pace even. Controlled. But inside, my blood was boiling.
"What's the status?" I asked as we neared the car, parked and ready for departure.
Mark and Lara were already inside, prepped for whatever lay ahead.
"Same," Fig responded, standing by the passenger side. "We've locked onto the location. We're heading straight there. But..."
He hesitated.
"But what?" My jaw tightened.
"We're not sure we'll find them."
My steps halted. A sharp frown cut across my face. "Why?"
Lara glanced up from her laptop, her expression grim. "Mark pulled some data. Looks like Russo's planning to flee town. He's been moving kids—orphans, the ones left behind—and getting them out before he disappears."
"Do we know where he's heading?"
Mark didn't look up as he responded. "I'm working on it."
I gave a curt nod, my expression dark. Russo's been a ghost for too long. It ends now.
Every second we lost was another second he had to cover his tracks. We couldn't afford that.
And then there was the Boston Police Department, breathing down our necks. If we didn't take control of this now, it wouldn't just be our operation at risk—it would be the entire fucking city.
But even as my mind stayed sharp, focused on the mission ahead, a part of me stayed back with her. I left Raven and a full security team behind to watch over Amara and Ana. It wasn't a choice I made lightly. Leaving her behind wasn't my plan. It never was.
But with Russo in play, I couldn't afford to put her life on the line.
Especially when she has no idea that this is just the beginning.
The port was eerily empty when we arrived. Beaumont was usually a hive of activity, but tonight, the silence stretched thick like a warning. The entire site looked... rearranged, as if someone had set the stage just for us.
Lara shifted beside Mark, voice barely above a whisper. "Don't you think it's awfully quiet tonight?"
Mark gave a single nod, his stance rigid. "Stay close." It was the only thing he said before we moved further in.
Lara turned to me, concern flickering in her eyes. "Are you sure you can fight with this injury, Enzo? The doctor told us—"
"Don't worry, sister-in-law." I cut her off with a smirk, though I felt the ache gnawing at me. "I made a promise to your best friend that I'd start taking care of myself. And I intend to keep my word."
I never got to finish my sentence.
A thunderous boom tore through the air.
The nearby intermodal cargo containers exploded, fire surging like a beast unleashed. A second blast followed, the force sending us diving for cover.
Smoke curled thick around us as the flames crackled hungrily.
I pushed off the ground, coughing through the smoke, my ears ringing. "Check it out." I gestured to my men.
They disappeared into the wreckage and returned minutes later. Their grim expressions told me everything before they even spoke.
"Sir... the cargo was rigged with explosives. We found two bodies inside."
"Who?" My voice was like steel.
"One of them looks like Salem." A heavy pause. "The other is a woman."
Fuck.
I gritted my teeth. My fingers curled tighter around my gun.
"Russo must be nearby. Search thoroughly."
My men scoured every inch of the site, but an hour passed, and we turned up with nothing. Until Rio appeared, his expression unreadable. But his eyes—his eyes told me everything. "Enzo... I-I think you need to see this."
Something in his voice sent a chill down my spine. Without another word, I followed him. The others trailed behind, silent, tension crackling in the air like a storm waiting to break.
We stopped in front of a massive cargo container. It looked no different from the rest, rusted metal and peeling paint.
But the weight in my chest told me otherwise. Rio exhaled sharply before pulling the door open. The stench hit us first. Then, we saw them.
Children. Lifeless. Their small bodies crumpled together like discarded dolls, their skin pale, their lips tinged blue.
Something inside me shattered.
I clenched my fists, my breath ragged as I forced myself to step closer. The sight twisted a knife in my gut. I had seen death before. I had caused death before. But this—this was different.
Rio's voice was heavy, strained. "There are twenty-seven of them. The cause of death—poisonous gas." His jaw tightened. "I think Salem got here before they could move them. And when they finally managed to kill Salem, it was already too late to transport the kids. So instead..." His voice faltered. "...they slaughtered them all."
A slow burn ignited in my chest, rising, spreading, turning into something dark and vengeful. My vision blurred—not with grief, but with rage.
I had failed to save them. But I would not fail them again. I turned to my men, voice low, steady. Deadly. "Find him." No one dared to breathe. "I don't care where he is. I don't care how long it takes. We hunt him down." My eyes burned as I spat the words.
Jaden exhaled sharply, frustration in every breath. "There's no way he got out of town this fast. We have men at the airports, all exit points are covered—so where the fuck is he?"
I paced, my mind churning.
Something isn't right.
It was too easy—he'd left us a trail, a lead. But it felt... staged. Like he had designed this entire setup knowing we'd follow.
And then—My phone buzzed. A video call from Ana. My stomach clenched. Something was off.
I answered.
And Russo's face filled the screen. "How does it feel to be defeated, Devil? Or should I say... Lorenzo Romano?"
His laugh was sharp, grating. Beside him, stood abby.
My grip tightened around the phone. "If you've got the balls, then come face me, coward!" I snarled.
But he only smirked. "Tsk, tsk. You should really calm down. After all..." He tilted the camera slightly. "I must say, you've built a far better home than your father."
My blood turned to ice. The background shifted.
My house.
He was inside my fucking house.
Ana. Amara.
What the fuck is happening?! Panic surged through me. My veins burned with the kind of helplessness I hadn't felt in a long time. Russo's voice slithered through the speaker. "I've always enjoyed watching people squirm in fear. But you? You're my favorite. Seeing the infamous Devil trembling?" He grinned. "It makes me feel like a fucking god."