Page 71 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“You’re bleeding, Heaven. Are you okay?”

I give a quick nod.

“Do you want him alive or dead?”

“He can live for now.”

“Unless he pisses me the fuck off again. Are you going to do that, Conor?” Matteo asks.

Conor pulls the pen out of his shoulder and glares. He’s fucked up, that’s more than obvious, and I’m sure Matteo knows. But I also suspect he’d kill my brother without a second thought if he wanted to.

Conor flings the pen down and takes a swaying step toward Matteo. “You think I’m afraid of you? You think I’m intimidated by your fucking army and your family? Well, I’m not.”

“I think you’re stupid and a waste of my time, and if you’re not scared of me, then you’re even stupider than I thought. I can and will kill you if I choose. So leave your sister alone.”

Conor’s face flushes, his eyes glassy. “This organization is mine.”

“Only if I keep you alive. Then it’s half yours,” Matteo says. “And soon it’ll be halfours.”

A tiny shiver runs through me when he says the wordours.

Suddenly Matteo slams the gun into the side of Conor’s skull, and he stumbles, falling to the floor and clutching his head. Matteo kicks him in the face and then, as Conor howls, writhing on the floor, he presses his shoe down, hard, against my brother’s neck.

“Take your broken nose as my wedding gift to you. I’ll protect your pathetic ass from Dominguez, but there’ll be rules. And I’ll be informing your father of this incident, along with the rules.”

He stares down at my brother and perhaps I should do something, say something, but honestly, I’m enjoying seeing Conor get served his ass.

“Rules are, no stealing. You steal from your family, you steal from me. You step out of line on the job, look at the wrong person in the wrong way, and you’ll feel the pain from me and my people. You’re meant to be an underboss, not a fuckup, so act like one.”

“I don’t do what you say, brother.”

Matteo presses harder on Conor’s neck and he gurgles. “Yes, you do. I own you. I’m protecting you, that’s true. But I’m protecting your whole family, and accidents happen. Get your fucking act together.”

“Matteo.”

Conor’s face is turning a mottled brick color, his fingers grappling weakly against Matteo’s foot and his eyes are starting to bulge.

After the shit he pulled I want my brother to suffer, but I don’t want him dead, no matter how much he deserves it. He’s flying high, fucked up out of his skull, and while that’s no excuse, this isn’t normal Conor behavior.

“Matteo, you’ll kill him.”

“Maybe I should. The world won’t miss him.”

“He’s my brother.”

Matteo presses harder and then sighs, lifting his foot, and Conor gasps in ugly deep breaths of air. My fiancé still doesn’t let him up, resting his foot on my brother’s upper chest instead.

“Your sister has a heart. I don’t. I don’t give a fuck if you live or die, Conor. But for her I’m giving you a chance. Just the one. But know this, next time you so much as look at your sister wrong, I’ll fucking make good on my promises.” He kneels down next to Conor, who is still groaning. “Brother,” he says, contempt dripping from his words. “You just make this whole thing too easy for me.”

I frown. What’s that supposed to mean?

Before I can ask, or say anything, Matteo straightens up and sticks his gun back into the waistband of his pants before dragging me out of the dingy building by my uninjured arm.

He cuts a look at me. “Do not fucking speak.”

Once we’re back in the car, he examines the slash on my arm, but I pull away, trembling. Not over what happened in there, and not because of the fierce anger emanating from Matteo.

No, I’m trembling because of the soft touch of his hand on my arm, the concern in his face, the shift in the air between us.

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