Devil Mine: A Dark Cartel Romance (London Underworld Book 1)

The next evening, I’m waiting in the foyer for Tess when she appears at the top of the stairs. A band wraps around my lungs and strangles the breath from them as I watch her walk down, her hand carefully placed on the banister. 

A massive smile breaks out across Diana’s face and she leans towards me, whispering, “Ella es tan hermosa.” 

I nod, swallowing to clear the sudden mass in my throat. She’s a vision in a floor-length, dark navy velvet gown. The blue is so dark the dress looks almost black. Off the shoulder sleeves rest on her arms and rejoin a tight corset that pushes her breasts appetizingly high. A long slit splits the gown, exposing her left leg up to mid-thigh. My eyelid twitches looking at that bare skin, knowing every single man there will be staring and fantasizing as I am. She’s going to remain pinned to my side all night.

As beautiful as she looks, this isn’t the dress I had delivered to her this morning.

I’d chosen mine for a specific reason.

“Where’s the pink one?”

She kisses Diana on the cheek and brushes straight past me, not even throwing me a glance.

“I’m not wearing pink when I’m in mourning,” she quips.

I bark out a laugh and follow after her out to the Rolls. When she stops in front of the car, I palm her nape and pull her back against my chest.

“What are you mourning?” I ask, pressing the words softly against her hair. My thumb rubs soft circles on the side of her neck, over her pulse point. I feel it flutter as her body reacts to my words. She’s an unwitting cocktease and I’m bursting at the seams, seconds away from breaking.

I was so close to snapping in the library yesterday and used up the very last vestiges of my control to get myself out of there. Even now, my fingers beat a restless rhythm in my pocket, the months of unspent energy leaking out of me in the ways it can.

“The death of my freedom.”

My driver waits for a signal to open her door. I dismiss him with a nod and open it myself, standing off to the side to let her in.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

Tess places a hand on the door and leans in, but stops when I speak again. “Were you ever really free, amor?”

Her hand tightens in reaction, but she gets in without a word. I close the door behind her and get in on my side.

✽✽✽

The second we leave the coat check area, Tess spots Dagny in the crowd and goes off with her, leaving me alone and annoyed. I’d planned on introducing my wife to my various business partners in attendance tonight but instead she took the first opportunity to run from me. Again.

The drumming in my fingers gets more frantic, my tuxedo feeling suddenly constrictive on my tense body. I want to rip my bow tie off and stalk after her but I don’t. No need to cause a scene this early in the evening.

“Diablo.”

I’m heading towards the bar when I turn around at the sound of my name. I extend my hand in greeting at an old ally.

“Cillian Tellier. Good to see you.”

“You know, if you smiled, I might actually believe you meant that.”

He claps a friendly palm on my shoulder and shakes my outstretched hand. Cillian owns a large stake in Blackdown, the largest weapons manufacturer in the world, although it’s his brother, Callum, who’s the boss and brains of the operation. Importantly, Cillian owns a number of successful cash businesses such as restaurants, pubs, clubs, and even a few laundromats, through which we launder our money.

“It’s been too long. I heard you were out of the country for a while, is that true?”

“You know how the rumor mill goes,” I answer cryptically.

“I do,” he says with an unhinged smile. “And your name’s been gracing more than a few of those headlines recently. You wouldn’t believe the stories flying around about you and all these dead Italians.”

The Telliers straddle the line between legitimate and illegal businesses, making them incredibly useful and powerful allies. Their ties to international governments surpass even the ones they have in the Underworld. They’re not enemies I’d make lightly, especially given their… personal quirks. Cillian is unashamed of the madness that shines brightly in his eyes even now and Callum is an unfeeling, merciless machine.

They’re fire and ice, those two.

“Are you fishing for information?”

“Oh no,” he says, pretending like what I just said is the craziest thing in the world and not exactly what he’s doing. “Just wondering who would be psychotic enough to kidnap the head of the Italian mafia, especially when he was balls deep in a hooker at the time, or so I heard. Whoever it is, they have my respect for the ballsiest move of the last decade,” he adds with a grin.

“It’s probably someone who won’t stop until he gets the answers he’s looking for.”

He quirks a brow at me. “You want me to pass that message on?”

“I don’t care what you do.”

He barks out a loud laugh, slapping me on the shoulder once more. “Fuck, I’m glad you’re back Thiago. Shit’s significantly less interesting around here when you’re gone.” His thick British accent wraps around every word. “Also, I hear congratulations are in order for your recent nuptials. Is she here? I’d love to meet her.”

“Refrain from using the word “love” in any way when talking about my wife, Cillian.” He puts his hands up, a knowing smile coming across his face and irritating me. “And yes, she’s in the restroom with her friend,” I lie. “Where’s your better half?”

If possible, the crazy in his eyes turns up a couple dozen more notches. A violently possessive look burns in his irises when he talks about her.

“You know my Dahlia, independent as always,” the older man says fondly. “We found out one of our daughter’s schoolmates was bullying her. Dahlia stormed out of the house with two cans of gasoline, a blow torch, and a bad attitude.” He looks down at his watch and nods. “She should be burning their house down right about now. She’ll join us when she’s done and if anyone comes asking, two hundred witnesses will claim she was here all night.” His eyes lift above my shoulder and soften. “Oh, look. She’s ahead of schedule,” he says adoringly.

I turn and watch a strikingly beautiful woman I know well stalk into the ballroom, her long red gown billowing intimidatingly around her. Dark hair frames a pale face that boasts even darker eyes. A scowl twists her features and curls her blood red lips into a daunting sneer as she scans the room. She looks formidable and deadly, someone who absolutely shouldn’t be fucked with. Her features smooth out when she spots her husband, the calmness that washes over her transforming her.

“Good seeing you, Thiago,” Cillian says, striding past me in his rush to get to his wife. “Bring Tess by the club sometime, we’d lo– like to meet her.”

I watch him walk up to Dahlia and scoop her up in a gruff embrace like he hasn’t seen her in months.

“Topping my ‘Things I’m Deathly Afraid Of’ list is accidentally getting on Dahlia Tellier’s bad side one day,” a voice calls from behind me.

There’s a smile on my lips before I’ve even turned around.

“Valentina.”

She puts her fists on her hips and raises a brow at me. Her gold dress highlights the bronzed color of her skin.

“Hermano,” she answers with a cheeky grin. She knows better than to hug me in public, but she does it anyway. 

“Where the hell have you been?” I ask. “I haven’t seen you since I’ve been back. Arturo says you haven’t checked in.”

She looks down and off to the side which I know is her tell.

“I’ve been busy.”

My eyes narrow on her. “With what?”

“Side projects.”

“Valentina…I’ve already warned you about doing your own investigation.”

“I’m not!” she says innocently, putting her hands up. I can’t tell if she’s lying now. “I’m taking a couple of classes, that’s it.”

“What kind of classes?”

“Hmm…dance?”

Not what I expected her to say, but completely harmless. If that’s what’s been keeping her busy, I don’t mind, even if it takes her focus away from the cartel.

“You better not be lying to me. I’ll find out what happened to Adriana, but you stay out of this. I don’t want to have to worry about you too,” I add.

She opens her mouth to answer when she spots something, or someone, in the distance. Whoever or whatever it is that she sees, she blanches. Her skin pales, losing its healthy color.

“I-I have to go,” she says, stumbling away from me.

I turn and scan the people behind me to see who could have spooked her like this. No one stands out.

“Vale,” I start, turning back towards her, but she’s already gone. “Hijueputa,” I curse. She’s fucking slippery and I’m annoyed I haven’t been able to nail her down and figure out what’s going on with her. 

“Macallan, neat,” I order, taking an immediate drink when the bartender places it in front of me.

My mind wanders, wondering how this expensive scotch would taste on Tess’s skin. There’s no reason I shouldn’t drink every one of my favorite liquors off her body. As it is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to drink aguardiente in a glass again. She took a drink that I’ve always associated with my father and in one evening made it so that I’ll never be able to have it without thinking of her first. 

“Jefe.”

I turn, hiding my wary reaction behind an expressionless mask. There are only a handful of people at this gala who would refer to me by that moniker and I know them all. The owner of this voice is not one of them.

A woman I’ve never met before stands behind me, a bright smile on her face.

“Who are you?”

She doesn’t let my unwelcoming tone shake her confidence, her smile turning beaming.

Something about it rankles.

“I’m Claudia. Claudia Cardenas.”

That name means nothing to me. Distantly, something deep in the back of my brain tells me I know it, but I don’t bother to dig for the memory.

Not interested.

“Am I supposed to know who you are?”

She takes a step forward, almost closing the gap between us. Her boldness makes my jaw twitch.

“I’m Leandro Cardenas’s daughter,” she says, and I suddenly remember where I’ve heard her name before. Batting her eyelashes coyly, she adds. “Your father thought I should introduce myself.”

On the outside, I bring my glass up to my lips and drink, but internally I groan loudly. This is the woman my father suggested I take as a replacement bride when I was still looking for Tess. Clearly, he’s upgraded from mere suggestion to taking action if he’s pushing her on me like this at an event.

Frankly, I’m surprised by it. Tomás da Silva believes in the sanctity of marriage having been married to my mother for twenty one years before her death. Having this woman approach me while my wife is in attendance is contrary to anything I’d expect from him. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Cardenas family saw a clear opportunity for advancement and decided to foist her upon me regardless of what my father said.

She puts her hand on my arm and officially pisses me the fuck off. Everyone in the cartel knows I got married two weeks ago and by touching me, she’s disrespecting my wife.