Page 451 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“There’s no shortage of stupid when it comes to Conor,” I grunt, draining the rest of my glass. “I don’t know what Matteo and Heaven are going to do if he just shows up tomorrow. If it were me, I’d shoot him on sight to keep him away from my family.”

“But the Russians will still collect, whether or not he’s out of the picture,” Patrick says.

“They have their own beef with us.” I shake my head. “If Conor really did pile on and screw them over, they’ll come for us. All of us. Nobody will be safe. That’s what has Heaven and Matteo so crazy. They know it. And there’s no guarantee that we get rid of the Russians once we pay, either. They like to leave their own big, red marks, you know what I’m saying? We need another plan.”

“Yeah, so us killing Conor doesn’t do a damn thing to help any of us.” He rolls his eyes heavenward. “This is so damn twisted, Dante. My mother is probably rolling in her grave over this whole thing.”

“Well, find peace in the fact that he tried to kill Heaven, and he’d do the same to you if he had the chance.”

“True.” He smirks. “Fuck him.” The bartender puts down two more highballs of whiskey in front of us.

She nods toward the opposite end of the bar, and two brunettes raise their glasses and flash their best come-hither looks at us.

“Come on, let’s go down there and say thank you,” Patrick says, picking up his glass. “It’s been a stressful week. I need to unwind.”

“In that case, you can have both of them. I’m good.”

“Seriously, man?” He furrows his brow. “Whoareyou?”

I shrug. “I may have something going with the nanny.”

Patrick laughs. “You kinky fucker. Isn’t she a kid? Heaven says she’s young.”

“She’s not that young. No younger than those girls who sent over the drinks,” I say. “And I’m not that old, dick.”

“I thought you were on your way outta here after the christening. Back to the love affair you have with your sniper rifle.”

“Yeah, well, my plans kind of changed recently.”

“Like when you started fucking the nanny?”

I smirk and take a sip of the whiskey. “Maybe.”

“Well, it looks like both of us are gonna get laid tonight.” His eyes take on a wicked glimmer and he picks up his glass. “You sure you don’t want to sample the buffet?”

“Nah, I’m good with my a la carte selection. You get your fill, though.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He laughs. “Funny, you know, ’cause there are two of them.”

“You’re hysterical, Patty.” I roll my eyes and twist away from him, checking out the rest of the dining room when a flash of blonde hair falls into my line of sight…in a dress I’ve seen before.

Unfortunately, that’s not the only thing I’ve seen before.

Boris, the Russian guy who works for the Volkov Bratva, is sitting in the back corner of the dining room.

And his dinner guest is none other than Anya.

MyAnya.

I blink fast to see if it’s really them, or if the whiskey is making me hallucinate.

It isn’t.

I clutch the glass tight in my fist.

Her uncle.

Her fuckinguncle?

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