Page 407 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

After mere hours?

I am on this quest for revenge, and I need to remember that.

I’m a heartless bitch. It’s why I’m so good at my job. I am cold, unfeeling, and brutal, dammit!

“Babababababa!” Aisling says, jerking me from my self-pep talk.

I nuzzle her neck and make a funny sound with my mouth that has her chuckling loudly.

Oh, for Pete’s sake!

I’m not an au pair!

No, I am a freaking hot mess, though.

In the distance, I hear the keycard sound and I dart out of the office, pulling the door closed quietly behind me. I jog into the living room, my bare feet pattering against the cool, polished floor tiles, just in time to see Dante push open the door. His arms are laden with bags, and scents wafting from whatever is inside tease my nostrils, making my stomach rumble.

I wasn’t even hungry a minute ago, but whatever he’s carrying makes my mouth water.

He grins at me. “I have a surprise for you.”

I settle Aisling in her Pack and Play and walk into the kitchen for plates, napkins, and utensils. Since I’m not sure where anything is stored, I just keep opening and closing cabinet doors until I find what I’m looking for.

“You know, while I appreciate the hand-holding, I can actually manage to do some things on my own.” I peek at him through the half-wall leading into the living room. “You don’t have to babysitme, Dante.”

But even though I try to keep my tone light, the gravity of my words makes his brow furrow. “You know what? That really hurts, Anya. And after I brought you a whole meal prepared by your culinary idol, Tommy Marcone.” He shakes his head and picks up the bags he’d just started unloading. “I guess I can find my brother Sergio and eat with him and his fiancée. I’d hate for all this food to go to waste on someone who doesn’t appreciate my chivalrous efforts.”

And as if on cue, my belly growls at me. I hear the message loud and clear.

Don’t you dare let him leave with that food, you bitch!

I sigh. “Dante, wait. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, still packing things into the bags again. “Nope, now you’re just saying it because you want my food. Uh-uh.”

“It’s not because of the food!” I screech. “I’m sorry for saying that stuff.”

“I don’t believe you,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Then, don’t believe me!” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “I just…” You just what, Anya? You just happen to find yourself in the tangled web of a man who may have played a role in one of the most devastating experiences of your life and you don’t know how to handle it? “I just am not used to being waited on like this.” Okay, it’s weak, but it’s better than the alternative admission.

Part of me wants to throw him down on the couch, hold a knife to his throat, and demand he tell me everything he knows.

The other part of me wants to throw him down on the couch and ride him like a thoroughbred in pursuit of the Triple Crown.

In this moment, it really is a toss-up between the two.

“I’m supposed to be the caretaker,” I say, my voice quivering a little as the words tumble from my lips. “I’ve always played that role and I guess I just don’t know how to handle it when someone takes over for me.” It’s not entirely bullshit, either. As I got older and Maks became more and more unhinged, it was up to me to keep things on an even keel back in Brooklyn. I did what I could to make sure he was clean, fed, and clothed since he lost all desire for anything other than vengeance. I was always more calculated and methodical in my actions, which made me more of an asset to the organization. Conversely, Maks acted purely on emotion, always ready to unleash the fury stored deep within him. Hell, it’s part of the reason I went with him the night he was killed. I figured with me in the car, he wouldn’t pull any of his crazy ass stunts.

I had no idea that the tables would flip as they did.

Uncle Boris’s words float back into my mind.

Maks was weak. He let his feelings rule his actions! Do you want to end up like him, Anya?

I swallow down the anger, trying desperately to keep myself calm. A few deep breaths settles my racing heart.

Dante folds his arms over his chest and stares at me. “You know that’s the most you’ve told me about yourself since I almost ran you over this morning.”

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