The Devil’s Den (De Kysa Mafia #1) Read Online Penny Dee

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: De Kysa Mafia Series by Penny Dee
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
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I can tell by the background noise that he’s looking around, walking from room to room in search of Bella. “Yeah, she’s not here.”

“Is her suitcase there?”

I know for a fact that Bella brought a rose-gold hard shell case with her.

“No, there’s no suitcase and nothing around to say anyone is staying here. Oh look, the fridge is off—”

Frustrated, I hang up and look at my brother, my mood darkening.

Let the games begin.

“She’s fucking gone.”

12

Bella

If Domenico De Kysa thinks he can take control of my life and move me around like a piece on a chess board, then he has another thing coming.

Escaping the city, I take a town car to the airport. I need to get back to my life in London, back to where life is normal and makes sense, and some gorgeous Italian billionaire slash Mafia crime lord isn’t trying to force me to marry him.

As luck would have it, there’s a flight to London in two hours, which means my life will be back to normal by dinnertime.

I’m not stupid enough to think he won’t come after me or I won’t have to go a few more rounds with him. But I can sure as hell make it difficult for him.

He needs to know I’m not a pushover and can take what he dishes out.

Pulling my suitcase behind me, I approach the airline counter. The server is a beautiful blonde woman with flawless makeup and immaculate red lips. Her name badge reads, Samantha, and she greets me with a dazzling smile.

“Welcome to Skylar Airlines. How can I help you today?”

“I’d like a seat on your next flight to London, please.”

“Absolutely. That will be the 11:20 flight.” When she smiles again, her eyes twinkle. “I have one seat left in business class and one in coach, which one would you like?”

“Does business class come with champagne?” I ask with surprise desperation. It’s not even nine o’clock, and I could finish a bottle before we even take off.

Samantha picks up on it.

“Rough morning?” she asks.

“The worst.” I sigh. “Ever think someone was put on this planet to make your life harder than it needs to be?”

“Boy troubles or girl trouble?”

“Boy troubles… the worst kind. You know, he actually thinks he can snap his fingers and I’ll do what he says. He has no regard for personal space. And don’t get me started on his ridiculous demands.” I huff out a breath, suddenly aware that I just blurted everything out to poor, unsuspecting Samantha.

But she takes it in stride, offering me an empathetic smile.

“Let’s see if we can’t make your day any easier. I’ll fix up your ticket for you, and then you can relax in our VIP lounge, courtesy of Skylar Airlines, who definitely don’t want you to have a bad day.”

“I could hug you. You’re a lifesaver. Thank you so much.”

Her immaculately manicured nails sweep across her keyboard. “You look like you could use a little pampering. How about we put you in coach but upgrade you to first class.” She gives me a wink, then whispers, “We girls have to stick together.”

I grin, grateful for the sisterhood. “Thank you.”

I hand her my passport, and she slides it into the scanner.

Her smile fades, and she steals an uncomfortable glance at me before looking back at her screen again.

“Um…I’m sorry…” She picks up the phone next to the computer screen. “I just need to make a call.”

“Is everything okay?” I ask. A small tingle starts at the base of my spine. A warning that an afternoon of champagne and first class is about to fall out of reach.

The look on her face doesn’t help matters. In fact, it’s alarming. Gone is the dazzling smile and the twinkling eyes. Instead, she looks nervous and concerned. Uncomfortable.

When she doesn’t answer me, I ask again. “Is something wrong?”

I expect reassurance from her. You know, considering we’re in the sisterhood and all that. But what I get is her silencing me with a held-up finger just as she answers the person on the other end of the line. “Yes, this is Samantha at counter 2. I have a Code Pink.”

My brows knit together.

Code Pink?

What the hell is that?

I look around to see if a situation is unfolding, but everything seems to be in order. Families, couples, and lone travelers line up behind me to check in while people move about the airport calmly. Everything seems normal.

Except for at counter 2 where there is an apparent Code Pink.

I turn back to Samantha, who still hasn’t managed to make eye contact with me since she picked up the phone and began talking to the mysterious person on the other end.

Finally, she hangs up.

“Miss Isle Ciccula, if you could please follow me.” Her tone is stone-cold professional. Gone is the warm tone of our newfound sisterhood.


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