Page 70 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“You might. But you’re not gonna get a fucking chance.” Conor drops the joint back into the ashtray and downs the rest of the whiskey before shattering the bottle’s body against the side of his desk. He leaps at me like a rabid dog, throwing me against the wall, holding the splintered neck of the bottle at my jugular. “I figured when Dad signed away your pathetic excuse for a life, I’d be spared the job of fucking slitting your throat. Looks like I was wrong.” Spittle flies out of his mouth.

Before he can move, I drive my knee straight into his groin. He starts to double over, and I kick his chest with all the force I can muster. He flies backward into the desk but doesn’t drop the damn bottle. I search the space, looking for anything to use as a weapon.

Anything besides my knee, that is.

But my search is futile, unless I can get to the joint and snuff it out in his eye.

He slices the air with the bottle, and it whirs past my ear. I dodge and duck away from it with not much of an option to escape. My eyes fall on a pen close enough for me to grab.

“You think Dad will believe you, Heaven? He sold you off to Villani to get you out of his hair! Because you’re such a pain in his ass, always looking to take, take, take! Marrying you off was the only way he could shove you out of the picture.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I grab the pen as he swings at me with the broken glass. “This is because you killed Dominguez’s second, you psycho.”

“You’re never gonna be boss, Heaven,” he says. “You’re a fucking girl, and you’ll never be taken seriously.”

“Oh, so if I’m a lying, scumbag pig, I’d have a better shot?”

He jumps at me, swinging the jagged neck of the bottle. I yelp as it slices my arm right through the fabric of my jacket.

“I hate you!” I move fast, driving the pen right into his shoulder.

He drops the bottle, stumbling backward against a chair, moaning like a bitch. He turns his crazed eyes at me before grabbing a gun from the back pocket of his jeans. And he points it at me, the safety clicking off.

I freeze, staring at the gun in my brother’s hand.

“Time for the elimination round,sis,” Conor mutters, his bloodshot eyes narrowing to slits as he swings the barrel right in front of my chest. “Sorry you couldn’tcutit.”

CHAPTER16

HEAVEN

He’s going to shoot me.

Everything in my body turns to ice as I stare at him. I can’t lunge at him because he’s so fucked up, he’ll pull the trigger. His pupils are too big, and he’s probably coked up too, or worse.

“Conor,” I say, raising my hands, trying to think my way out of this.

“Make a move, you bitch. Go on. I wanna pull this trigger so fucking badly, you have no idea!” Conor starts to laugh. “Maybe I will. And then everything’s gonna be mine.”

Before I can say a word, a gun cocks behind me.

“Conor,” Matteo says, his rich voice cold and hard and flat. “You pull the trigger, you even think of pulling the trigger, and everything will be yours for exactly half a minute. Because I’ll shoot you. I’ll shoot your dick off first, then I’ll shoot you in the throat, and while you’re writhing in pain and drowning in your own blood, you’ll want to beg for me to finish you. And I’ll make you wait until the last second, stretch out that pain before I end you.”

Conor’s hand wavers a little.

Matteo continues in that same tone. “Or maybe I’ll shoot off your dick and pump you full of some of these drugs laying around in here to keep you awake and call in one of my…specialists. She likes to play. And she knows how to keep you alive and in agony while carving pieces of you from your body. Break your bones, pull out your fingernails. Pluck out your eyes and slice up your tongue. She’ll make anything Dominguez might do seem like a walk in the park.”

A dark stain appears in the front of Conor’s jeans, and the room starts to stink with the stench of piss.

“So be a good boy and drop your gun, otherwise I’ll make all your nightmares come true.”

Conor’s finger moves off the trigger.

“Amore mio, take the gun from the bastard.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I snatch it from his hand and hold it, the strength going from my legs.

Matteo is there, his body against mine, the gun in his hand steady and sure and trained on my brother.

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