Page 139 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“Flattery will get you everywhere. Keep going.”

She laughs. “Small doses when and where I see fit. Are you nervous about scuba diving?”

“No.” I think the term is scared shitless, but I’m not telling her that.

The balmy sea breeze whips through my hair as I follow the single-lane road along the coast. Dusk has fallen and it’s almost time for the underwater mating show to begin.

And no, I’m not talking about me and Heaven.

This show is different, and one which my wife has been researching endlessly since we made plans to return to Bonaire at the right part of the season for her show.

Just like she always wanted.

That first trip was mostly indoors, in bed. Long walks. More naked exploration. This one’s got all that planned, it just comes with a lot of extra.

“The pictures and videos are incredible.” she sighs. “I just wish… Well, you know.”

“I do,” I say, downshifting when the car in front takes a left turn. There’s a lot that she wishes. She wishes Molly was here to experience the very thing they’d sworn to do together. She wishes things with her family could have worked out differently. She wishes she could share this experience with all of them.

And unfortunately, I’m not a genie.

I can only make so much happen.

I surprised her with this second trip because I know how rough the past couple of months have been for her, and I wanted to give her something special, a new set of memories. She’s spent a little bit of time with her Aunt Maura and with Patrick, Niall, and Quinn since the fallout, but she hasn’t contacted her father.

He and Conor haven’t reached out either, the fucking pricks.

Anger clutches my gut, the same way it does anytime I think of her family and how horribly they treated her. Conor, as far as I’m concerned, should be dead with that asshole Declan lying in a shallow grave next to his.

I’ve been tempted to turn that into a reality more times than once.

But as devastated as Heaven is about excommunicating herself from her family, I know she’d never want them to meet the end I’d very much like to deliver.

Although, if given the chance, she might just slit Conor’s throat.

It’d be therapeutic, if nothing else.

But I’ve had eyes on the Mulligans. Just like I told her I would. And the cracks are showing. Declan’s retiring any day, and Conor’s fucking up more. It will be hers soon, if she wants it. But I’m letting her come to me with that.

Time will, as always, tell.

We have other things to focus on: new opportunities, each other.

It’s more than enough.

I don’t need the world, just her.

“We have a lot to look forward to,amore mio,” I say. “Once we get back, we’re off to Las Vegas to work with the other families of the syndicate and put plans in place to grow our influence. The Excelsior is thriving, and that means a lot more opportunity for expansion in the gambling industry.”

The Excelsior is the new hotel and casino we’ve built with our new Sicilian business partners, the Marcone family. Sergio has been running the operations since it opened. But Vegas represents more than just new business ventures for our family.

Partnering with the Marcones also introduced us to the Severinov Bratva, a Russian family that already owns a lot of the area we’re looking to rule. Building this syndicate gives us endless possibilities for expansion. It also gives us muscle times three, which never hurts in our line of work.

After handling Dominguez, I figured we’d be out of the crosshairs of any cartel, at least for a little while. But a new threat has surfaced in Vegas, the Becerra Cartel. And they’re out for blood.

I don’t like the threat looming over what we’ve built, but Sergio is on the front lines, watching and waiting.

We have a lot of planning to do.

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