Page 320 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

Frankie won’t stop unless someone cuts him off at the knees. He’s brought a cash cow to the Volkovs in Brooklyn, and now that they know they have an in to keep milking it, they will drain us of everything, just like Matteo said they would.

I don’t have a lot of time to fix this. The Volkovs aren’t the type to sit back on their asses and wait for a windfall. They’re the types to make the windfall happen in the first place.

They’ll use Frankie to get inside again since he knows too fucking much about our operations.

And then they’ll kill the whole Amante family because that’s just the kind of vengeful fuckers they are.

Returning what he stole isn’t enough to keep Frankie alive.

Matteo thinks that killing Frankie will solve our problem and show strength.

I hate to admit it…but he’s right.

CHAPTER18

MARCHELLA

Ifeel amazing as I do a half-twirl in front of the full-length mirror in the exclusive boutique that Roman picked out on Fifth Avenue. The soft folds of the fabric cling to my body like the dress was made especially for me. I haven’t worn something this luxurious in a long time, and for a minute, I just want to enjoy it. I want to feel wanted and beautiful and…happy.

I can feel Roman’s eyes rake over me as I catch his heated stare in the mirror. He shifts on the leather couch as Bella yips and yaps, snuggled in his lap. He’s been distracted ever since we left his building, and I only asked once what was wrong. He dismissed his behavior, saying he was preoccupied with the event, but I’m not stupid.

I know there’s more at play than what he’s letting on. I know something happened when he was on the phone with his brother, Matteo. The ‘what’ is what’s evading me right now. A shiver zips through me, almost immediately followed by an impending sense of dread that I can no longer squelch with memories of his body plastered on top of mine, driving me into a euphoric bliss over and over and over…

I take a deep breath, letting it take hold after ignoring the gnawing feeling in my gut.

Frankie is still MIA.

I have no business traipsing around in this dress, planning for an evening where I will be playing the part of princess while my brother could very well be lying in a ditch somewhere.

It’s insane to be putting so much trust in someone I barely know.

I’m relying on his power to save my brother.

But what if he can’t deliver?

What if?—?

Roman’s phone rings, his forehead pinched as he grunts into the phone. I can see his body tense as he mumbles to whomever is on the line. I pretend not to pay attention while desperately straining my ears to hear something…anything…that can explain his sudden change in mood.

I didn’t expect his meltdown earlier, and something tells me it won’t be the last one I witness.

When he finally hangs up the phone, his jaw tightens and he stares out the window behind him. The sales associate walks over with a tray of champagne flutes, offering one to each of us. I take one and he waves the other one away. I take a few tentative steps toward him before dropping to one knee.

“Hey,” I say softly. “Want to come into the fitting room? I can use some help unzipping this dress…”

He barely acknowledges me, though. He’s obviously far away and his indifference is like a slap in the face. I grit my teeth and slowly rise to a standing position. “Okay, then, I’ll just take care of it myself.”

I turn toward the back room and he grasps my wrist, pulling me back to him. “Chella,” he says in a gruff voice. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” I say.

I stand there, staring at him and then at his hand. “Roman, listen, I know?—”

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“Then tell me so I do.”

“I can’t. You just have to tru?—”

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