A Deal With The Devil What Did You Do, Sister? novel online free
Giovanni
The noise of the crowd intensifies as Donna is removed from the stage and the curtains are closed. It'll be a little while before the next one is put on the block.
I turn my full attention to the woman before me.
"Giovanni," I say.
"What?"
"Just Giovanni. Not Mr. Giovanni."
"Oh."
"Sienna Williams. Familiar name."
"This is a mistake." She reaches into the giant tote, which is lying at her feet.
One of the soldiers puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.
"What - "
I give him a shake of my head.
He steps back.
I don't think she'll pull a gun out of the thing. She's not the type to even own one.
She gives him a nasty look and resumes digging around to pull out her wallet. "Look," she says, opening it, taking out her driver's license and holding it out for me to see. Her hand trembles. "My last name is Chase. You've made a mistake."
When I reach to take the license, she pulls it away. I raise my eyebrows and hold out my hand, palm up.
She looks at it, and, very reluctantly, puts the driver's license in it.
"I don't know you. I don't know - "
"You'll get to know me," I say without looking up, studying the license instead, turning it over. "This isn't a very good fake. You've never been pulled over?"
"What?" she flushes, eyes huge and panicked. It's not fake." Her voice is a little higher.
I tuck it into my jacket pocket.
"That's mine," she starts weakly. Without taking my eyes off her, I raise my hand and one of the servers comes over with an empty crystal tumbler. I pour whiskey into it, push it toward Sienna and think how much I like the sound of her name. It's soft and sexy and her lips are full, and I can smell the fear coming off her and fuck, I take a deep breath in because nothing - and I mean nothing - gets my dick hard as that sweet scent.
"Drink," I say.
"My driver's license."
"You'll get it back. Drink."
Trembling hands come to the table, one moving to take the tumbler.
She looks at it.
I look at her. At thick lashes concealing those pretty eyes from me. A lock of wavy, dark hair falls out of its messy bun on the top of her head. She tucks it behind her ear as she brings the glass to her nose and sniffs.
"It's not poison."
She takes a cautious sip.
"And?" I ask.
"What?"
"Do you like it?"
"No."
I grin. "Drink it anyway. It'll calm your nerves."
She looks at me, then at the room full of men. The only women are those serving them and the one she just saw on the auction block.
"Why am I here?"
"Because your sister is out of commission and she owes me a good deal of money."
"My sister?"
"She's never been very reliable."
"I don't have a sister."
"Come, now. Ciara Williams."
Her face loses a little of its color. "Ciara?"
"Nice girl. Until you get to know her."
She gives a shake of her head, straightens her spine. "I haven't spoken with Ciara in years. We don't keep in touch. And she's technically not my sister." She pauses and a crease forms between her eyebrows. "Is she... is she in town?"
The question surprises me, but I know people. They lie. Anything to get away with shit they have no business getting away with.
I notice the sheen of sweat collected on her forehead. Another sign that she's lying.
I nod to answer her question. The furrow between her eyebrows deepens. "What do you mean 'out of commission'?" she asks as if she just heard that part.
"Seems she was beaten."
"Beaten?" She looks truly caught off guard. "Is she okay?"
"She'll be fine. In time. Recovering at the hospital. Take off your jacket, Sienna."
Sienna. There it is again. The sound of that name, it's almost erotic.
"I'm fine. I'm not staying. Which hospital?" she asks, pushing her chair back and just starting to rise. At my nod, that same man from earlier closes his hand over her shoulder, stopping her before she's even straightened fully.
"Sit."
She swallows and is once again seated.
"I'll tell you when you can leave. Now take off your jacket."
She gives me a long look, glances at the man in her periphery, then shifts in her seat. She pulls her arms out and leaves the jacket at her back.
Underneath she's wearing a cheap pale blue sweater that's frayed, but it does hug her generous breasts so I can't complain.
"I won't be bullied," she says, and I see the effort it's taking her to keep her voice level, to keep her eyes on mine. To pretend like she's not scared shitless.
"Then don't make me bully you," I say with a smile.
"Can I have some water?" she asks.
"What's the magic word?" Her left eye twitches and I'm not sure she's aware of her hands fisting.
I raise my eyebrows, waiting.
"Please."
I nod, call a girl over and tell her to bring ice-water which is delivered momentarily.
Sienna picks up the tall glass with both hands and drinks it all down.
"Which hospital is Ciara at?"
"It's 'may I' by the way. Not 'can I' "
I know from the look on her face she's telling me to go to hell. Not many people would dare. At least, they'd be better at hiding it.
This night is turning out better than I expected. I knew she was good-looking when I had Axel pick her up, but good looks alone aren't enough to keep me engaged.
"Centennial Hills," I say. She looks confused. "Hospital. She's at Centennial Hills Hospital."
"Did you beat her up?"
"I won't dignify that question with a response. I don't beat women. Period."
"Who did then?"
"I wouldn't know. Better?" I ask, gesturing to the water.
She doesn't reply.
I sip my drink and study her. "You don't look much like each other."
Sienna's olive skin and dark hair are opposite Ciara's ruddy complexion and reddish hair. It makes me think Italian. Maybe middle-eastern?
"What?"
"You look very different than your sister."
"I told you, we're technically not sisters," she says with a touch more irritation in her voice than I like. "I was fostered in the Williams home. We're not related."
"Blood or fostered or adopted, I don't care."
"Never adopted," she clarifies, clearing her throat and not quite looking at me.
I just hope she doesn't think the fact that they're not related by blood means she's off the hook.
Because if she thinks that, then she's in for the surprise of her life.
The noise of the crowd intensifies as Donna is removed from the stage and the curtains are closed. It'll be a little while before the next one is put on the block.
I turn my full attention to the woman before me.
"Giovanni," I say.
"What?"
"Just Giovanni. Not Mr. Giovanni."
"Oh."
"Sienna Williams. Familiar name."
"This is a mistake." She reaches into the giant tote, which is lying at her feet.
One of the soldiers puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.
"What - "
I give him a shake of my head.
He steps back.
I don't think she'll pull a gun out of the thing. She's not the type to even own one.
She gives him a nasty look and resumes digging around to pull out her wallet. "Look," she says, opening it, taking out her driver's license and holding it out for me to see. Her hand trembles. "My last name is Chase. You've made a mistake."
When I reach to take the license, she pulls it away. I raise my eyebrows and hold out my hand, palm up.
She looks at it, and, very reluctantly, puts the driver's license in it.
"I don't know you. I don't know - "
"You'll get to know me," I say without looking up, studying the license instead, turning it over. "This isn't a very good fake. You've never been pulled over?"
"What?" she flushes, eyes huge and panicked. It's not fake." Her voice is a little higher.
I tuck it into my jacket pocket.
"That's mine," she starts weakly. Without taking my eyes off her, I raise my hand and one of the servers comes over with an empty crystal tumbler. I pour whiskey into it, push it toward Sienna and think how much I like the sound of her name. It's soft and sexy and her lips are full, and I can smell the fear coming off her and fuck, I take a deep breath in because nothing - and I mean nothing - gets my dick hard as that sweet scent.
"Drink," I say.
"My driver's license."
"You'll get it back. Drink."
Trembling hands come to the table, one moving to take the tumbler.
She looks at it.
I look at her. At thick lashes concealing those pretty eyes from me. A lock of wavy, dark hair falls out of its messy bun on the top of her head. She tucks it behind her ear as she brings the glass to her nose and sniffs.
"It's not poison."
She takes a cautious sip.
"And?" I ask.
"What?"
"Do you like it?"
"No."
I grin. "Drink it anyway. It'll calm your nerves."
She looks at me, then at the room full of men. The only women are those serving them and the one she just saw on the auction block.
"Why am I here?"
"Because your sister is out of commission and she owes me a good deal of money."
"My sister?"
"She's never been very reliable."
"I don't have a sister."
"Come, now. Ciara Williams."
Her face loses a little of its color. "Ciara?"
"Nice girl. Until you get to know her."
She gives a shake of her head, straightens her spine. "I haven't spoken with Ciara in years. We don't keep in touch. And she's technically not my sister." She pauses and a crease forms between her eyebrows. "Is she... is she in town?"
The question surprises me, but I know people. They lie. Anything to get away with shit they have no business getting away with.
I notice the sheen of sweat collected on her forehead. Another sign that she's lying.
I nod to answer her question. The furrow between her eyebrows deepens. "What do you mean 'out of commission'?" she asks as if she just heard that part.
"Seems she was beaten."
"Beaten?" She looks truly caught off guard. "Is she okay?"
"She'll be fine. In time. Recovering at the hospital. Take off your jacket, Sienna."
Sienna. There it is again. The sound of that name, it's almost erotic.
"I'm fine. I'm not staying. Which hospital?" she asks, pushing her chair back and just starting to rise. At my nod, that same man from earlier closes his hand over her shoulder, stopping her before she's even straightened fully.
"Sit."
She swallows and is once again seated.
"I'll tell you when you can leave. Now take off your jacket."
She gives me a long look, glances at the man in her periphery, then shifts in her seat. She pulls her arms out and leaves the jacket at her back.
Underneath she's wearing a cheap pale blue sweater that's frayed, but it does hug her generous breasts so I can't complain.
"I won't be bullied," she says, and I see the effort it's taking her to keep her voice level, to keep her eyes on mine. To pretend like she's not scared shitless.
"Then don't make me bully you," I say with a smile.
"Can I have some water?" she asks.
"What's the magic word?" Her left eye twitches and I'm not sure she's aware of her hands fisting.
I raise my eyebrows, waiting.
"Please."
I nod, call a girl over and tell her to bring ice-water which is delivered momentarily.
Sienna picks up the tall glass with both hands and drinks it all down.
"Which hospital is Ciara at?"
"It's 'may I' by the way. Not 'can I' "
I know from the look on her face she's telling me to go to hell. Not many people would dare. At least, they'd be better at hiding it.
This night is turning out better than I expected. I knew she was good-looking when I had Axel pick her up, but good looks alone aren't enough to keep me engaged.
"Centennial Hills," I say. She looks confused. "Hospital. She's at Centennial Hills Hospital."
"Did you beat her up?"
"I won't dignify that question with a response. I don't beat women. Period."
"Who did then?"
"I wouldn't know. Better?" I ask, gesturing to the water.
She doesn't reply.
I sip my drink and study her. "You don't look much like each other."
Sienna's olive skin and dark hair are opposite Ciara's ruddy complexion and reddish hair. It makes me think Italian. Maybe middle-eastern?
"What?"
"You look very different than your sister."
"I told you, we're technically not sisters," she says with a touch more irritation in her voice than I like. "I was fostered in the Williams home. We're not related."
"Blood or fostered or adopted, I don't care."
"Never adopted," she clarifies, clearing her throat and not quite looking at me.
I just hope she doesn't think the fact that they're not related by blood means she's off the hook.
Because if she thinks that, then she's in for the surprise of her life.
