Page 37 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

I’m definitely not one of them. If—I mean, when—I take over, things will change. No more ego-driven deals. We don’t need a deal with the likes of someone as dangerous and reckless as Matteo Villani.

Reckless. I push myself harder, plowing through a meandering couple on the path. On paper he’s not reckless, but there’s something about him, in the way he likes his sex, or I imagine he likes his sex, that says reckless. Taking me on is reckless. I might be young, but I have more experience in this underworld than most realize. I’ve seen things, and after Molly?—

After what happened to my cousin, I don’t trust men like Matteo Villani.

I might not have the power to run things yet. But I have influence. And I’ll find a way to stop this tonight, even if I have to tell my father Matteo tried to force himself on me.

“Heaven,” Patrick pants from a few feet behind me. “Slow down!”

“Come on, don’t be such a pussy!” I call out, ignoring the burn in my lungs and muscles. I know my limits, and I’m nowhere near them, even as the sun beats down hot. “Do I have to carry you every time we do this? Your stamina is shit!”

“That’s…because…I’d rather…lift…weights,” he rasps, picking up the pace. I know it’s only temporary. He’ll fall back and end up collapsing on a bench soon enough. “I don’t understand why…you like torturing me…this way. I’ve been a good brother to you, yeah? Why the fuck…do you wanna kill me off? I’m too young to…die.”

I laugh and give him a little punch in the arm. “Running’s good for you. Burns off the booze, gets the blood flowing, clears your mind.”

“I screw plenty of chicks. That burns off booze and gets the blood flowing, too. I’m good with cardio as long as it’s the kind where getting off is an added benefit.”

“You’re such a pig.” I slow my pace slightly so Patrick doesn’t pass out in the middle of the path. “I’m just trying to keep you healthy.”

“Seems like the exact opposite,” he says. “Just saying.”

I slow to a jog when Patrick collapses against the black, wrought iron railing overlooking the river with an exaggerated breath as sweat trickles down his face.

I stop next to him, staring at the sun glittering atop the rippling water. “It’s so peaceful out here.”

“As opposed to?”

I roll my eyes. “Everywhere else in Manhattan.”

“And yet, you still wanna be boss.” He shakes his head. “You really think you’re gonna change things, Heaven?”

“Yes. Someone has to.” I twist my ponytail around my fingers. “If Dad leaves things up to Conor, he’ll run our family into the ground and nobody will be safe.”

“We’re not exactly a family of accountants. I know how you feel about keeping everyone safe, but not even Dad could deliver on that,” Patrick murmurs. “We still lost a lot that he couldn’t prevent.”

A pang assaults my heart.

Am I really any better than Conor? Than Dad?

I mean, look at what I let happen to my cousin, Molly. She was the sister I never had but always wanted.

I could have protected her.

Ishouldhave protected her.

But I didn’t.

And that knowledge has been slowly choking me to death ever since that fateful night.

I press my fingertips to my temples to chase away the toxic memories bubbling into my consciousness, memories I try so hard to keep buried along with the guilt and the rage.

I completely failed in my attempt to stop the horrors that will haunt me for a lifetime. I watched Molly get taken. I let it happen.

ThatHeaven Mulligan was weak, scared, and riddled with self-doubt. She dreamed big but faltered whenever an opportunity was presented.

That Heaven Mulligan was erased alongside her cousin. And this new version has been trying to rebuild herself ever since.

Our family was fractured—is fractured—by those events. And I won’t let anything happen to the rest of them. Not even Conor. We might have power, we might hold a position that’s more than might, that’s strategic in this endless game of mafia, but we’re just holding on because of something I did.

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