Page 60 of The Mafia's Broken Vows

“Pietro will take care of it, alright?” Dante dips his head and murmurs against my lips, his breath hot on my skin.

“Dante—”

His lips capture mine in a kiss that I instantly feel all the way to my toes. Teases my lips until my mouth goes slack with need, then slants his lips over mine and shoves his tongue deep inside my mouth in a clear stake of ownership.

He’s rough and demanding, shamelessly sucking, nibbling at my lips, and pulling tortured moans out of me as I feel a rush of wetness coat my panties. Without words, Dante has just told me that he’s going to fuck me tonight and I’m going to let him.

I swear there’s no man alive who can communicate more eloquently with his body the way Dante can.

And then, as suddenly as the decadent kiss began, Dante tears his mouth off me only to plant a chaste peck on my forehead, a complete one-eighty from the way he’s been plundering my mouth just now, apparently because I still need a final mindfuck.

Wordlessly, he steps back, slams my door shut, rounds the car, then gets into the driver’s seat while I meticulously pick my scattered brains off the floor.

I’m still catching my breath when the engine roars to life, and Dante backs out of the parking spot. I see Pietro in my rental car already idling at the entrance of the lot.

Just as Dante approaches the waiting Corolla, a deafening explosion rips through the night, its force rattling the SUV.

Dante immediately throws his body against my chest, knocking the wind out of me as the car rocks violently. My ears ring, and the world becomes a mix of reverberating echoes and alarming cars. Heat, smoke, and debris fill the air, and the smell of smoke stings my nostrils.

“Addy!” Dante calls, his voice tight and urgent.

It’s only when I feel his hands running over my face that I realize my eyes are tightly shut and I’m screaming. I open my eyes a fraction and nod. “What was tha—”

Before I can finish, Dante swears loudly and throws open the door. “Under no circumstances should you leave this car, do you understand me?” he barks, and then he’s out of the car and running, his hand already reaching for the gun in his back holster.

It takes me a moment to peer beyond the smoke and commotion to realize what just happened.

A bomb. But it’s not until I undo my seat belt and crawl into the driver’s seat, deftly avoiding the deployed airbags, that the full weight of the situation crashes down on me, stealing my breath and leaving me paralyzed with shock and terror.

Smoke billows from the charred metal that remains where the Corolla had been a minute ago. A shoe with the foot still in it lies a few feet from the smoking ruins.

I swallow a wave of nausea as the horrifying facts hit home. Hulky – Pietro. Dante’s man. He was inside my rental car.

The car that just exploded.

That should have been me in pieces all over the parking lot.

And then Dante is in my line of vision, striding toward the burning ruins, disbelief etched on his features. He stands close—too close to the smoking ruins, frozen in shock.

Suddenly, he tears off his jacket and launches it at the rubble, then drags his hand through his hair and throws his head back. I can hear his almost-inhuman roar of grief and feel every bit of his devastation and an inexplicable urge grips me.

I need to go to him.

Before I can think better of it, I grab the door handle.

Just then, Kira’s tattooed friend appears from nowhere and grabs Dante, dragging him away from the inferno.

“Fratello,” he yells, pleading with Dante, his voice breaking, “Go. I’ll finish here.”

Dante spins around, his face a mask of anguish and fury, his voice a raw snarl. “Who would dare?” He struggles against the man’s grip, and I see his control, always so absolute, shattering before my eyes. It’s the most rattled I’ve ever seen him, the most vulnerable. His gray eyes are glassy with tears and blazing with a desperate fear I’ve never witnessed before.

Something inside me snaps. I can’t just sit here and watch. Dante needs me. He needs someone. Anyone.

I open the SUV door and stumble out, my legs shaky beneath me.

“Dante!” My voice is a choked whisper, lost in the roar of the fire and the panicked shouts of the crowd starting to gather at a safe distance.

He hears me, his eyes widening as he sees me standing there. “Get back in the car, Addy,” he shouts. “Right now!”

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