Page 13 of Married to the Devil

Silas throws back his glass with a satisfied smile. “Better you than me, that’s for sure.”

I walk the pair of them out into the hall. Theodora discusses more trivial matters and Silas does his best to rile her. I keep my distance, gazing around at the house, wondering what my parents would have made of a place like this. Ten times larger than what we grew up in, ten times more expensive, and ten times more deadly. The nicest neighborhood in the heart of Philadelphia. Who would’ve ever thought criminals like us would live side by side with the wealthy and the elite?

Would my parents be proud of what we’ve become?

I doubt it. Truly, in my heart, I doubt it.

But nothing else matters anymore. My parents are in their grave twenty years now, and it has been up to me to guide my brothers and the remnants of my father’s organization into what we are today.

Nothing’s been easy. Every day’s a struggle.

Life takes. It takes and takes and takes. First my parents, my angel baby sister with them, and dozens of other slights and breaks and insults. Friends gone, bloodied and ruined. Associates gutted and left to rot in the street. Years pass, the scars thicken, the pain only ever gets worse, but I carry it all.

That’s what it means to sit on the throne.

When they’re gone, I return to my office.

My world doesn’t like change. There are too many entrenched interests competing for their slice of the kingdom. The Corvino Operation has gotten too big, too unwieldy, with several power bases spread throughout the United States. An offshoot in Chicago, another in Los Angeles, another in the Bay Area. Where there is money, we’re there working in the shadows.

But Denning gives us an opportunity for more.

A chance to grow more powerful than I ever dreamed twenty years ago standing in the driveway with the ruins of my family crying in the rain around me.

I slump behind my desk. My thoughts are crowded with too many bad memories. I try not to spend time in the past but now that I’m on the edge of something new, I can’t help myself.

What will become of us? How will we survive the inevitable?

I’m so lost in thought that I almost don’t notice the envelope. It’s placed on top of the paperwork Theodora gave me earlier. I frown, not sure how it got there. Nobody’s allowed in this room aside from me.

Slowly, I slip open the seal and reach inside.

There’s a photograph. It’s simple, in bright colors, shot on a telephoto lens. Slightly blurry, the proportions off.

My body goes numb staring at it.

The image is of a pretty young woman. Late twenties, blond hair, lovely figure. I taste salt and honey on my tongue, feel cold glass against my palms, hear her voice in my mind.

In the picture, the woman is sitting on a park bench beside a five-year-old girl.

The child is smiling. She’s got a juice box in her hands. The woman is leaning down like she’s about to help put the straw through the foil.

The little girl’s eyes are a cool, startling gray.

Like mist off an ocean breeze.

I stare at the image for a long time, my heart stuttering, my palms sweating.

My God.

Years. So many years. These two have been there, lurking in the background of every decision I’ve ever made.

Quiet, hidden away.

Safe.

But now?

Someone found them.