Page 183 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“Sergio, don’t tell me you’re gonna try to handle this by yourself,” he says, the warning evident in his tone. “The families will be pissed and you’ll end up getting yourself killed. And we still won’t get those nightclubs!”

I force out a chuckle. “You really think I’m gonna deal with Torres on my own? Nah, I’m letting the families handle this one. They’ll figure out a way to make him pay, and then I’ll be happy as a pig in shit to deliver the punishment.”

Bruno just stares as me as he stuffs scrambled eggs into his mouth. “You sound pretty convincing. You think everyone else will buy that line of bullshit?”

My eyes narrow. “That’s how it will be handled. How Torres will be handled. He tried to kill us, Bruno, and he will be handled.” A tight smile lifts my lips. “In the exact way that the families decide. As of right now, I’m stepping out of this Torres sinkhole.” I shove the chair away from the table as I stand up. “And I’m going to my meeting so that I can figure out another way for us to take over nightlife in this goddamn city since nobody has come up with any other brilliant ideas.”

“Hey, Serge,” Bruno says, putting down his fork. “Look, I get that you want a win here, but maybe stop going around on your own to put deals together? I mean, it didn’t exactly work out for you last night. Definitely didn’t work out for Enrico.” He sighs. “I know you feel like you have a lot to prove, but?—"

“Don’t tell me what I feel,” I say, my voice choked. “I’ve done plenty for our family. I jumped in when Matteo needed me in Manhattan months ago. I fucking went with Heaven to take out that drug lord and break up their sex trafficking ring while Matteo was lying in a hospital bed after getting shot! But because Matteo is next in line to Papa,hegets to make the decisions and the plans on our behalf. Fuck that! I’ve done plenty to prove myself and I’m done. I’m ready to write my own goddamn rules! I don’t need Matteo dictating shit to me, telling me how to do my job. I’ve done just fine for myself and for our family!”

“Easy,” he says, looking around. “You’re getting a little crazy about this. You guys will go to the meeting and figure out a new plan. This isn’t about Matteo or about you fucking up.” He smirks. “I mean,thistime it’s not about you fucking up.”

I roll my eyes.

“Torres is clearly a wild card, and nobody expected things to go down the way they did. This isn’t on you?—”

“The hell it’s not.”

I twist around to see Matteo’s lips curl into a sneer. He steps toward me, dressed from head to toe in black. Suit, shirt, shoes. But no tie.

Never a tie.

I guess he doesn’t need anything else choking him on a daily basis.

“Don’t sugarcoat this for him, Bruno,” Matteo says, still staring me down. “Shit went sideways last night because you couldn’t handle Torres. You think you have what it takes to sit at the negotiation table, but clearly you don’t. Anyone who knows anything about business, about people, could have gotten him to agree to our terms.” He stands toe to toe with me. We’re both about the same height but he’s darker — everything from his skin to his demeanor. More menacing all around when he’s talking business. He barely smiles. Never laughs.

Yep, Matteo can be a real dickwad.

“You talk a big game about getting an earned seat at the table,” I hiss. “But what the hell did you ever do to get yours? Be born first?”

Matteo lifts an eyebrow at me. “Careful, brother,” he growls. “I have no problem making a recommendation to have you shipped the fuck out of here if you don’t watch your ass. See, that’s the difference between us. I deliver on what I promise.” He leans toward me, his eyes turbulent and volatile.

That’s the only sign of what’s going on behind his chaotic gaze.

If you don’t know him, you’d never see it, or him, coming.

And when the devil comes knocking, you’re already too late to escape.

But I’ve been dealing with this my whole life.

Buttons?

There are plenty to push.

This one is the hottest, though.

Insinuating that he got his role because of birth order instead of skill always gets his dick in a twist.

It’s not entirely true, but it pisses him off regardless.

I hold up my hands with a nasty smirk on my face. “Sorry, I know how sensitive you are about…role play.”

His nostrils flare, and if we were behind closed doors right now, he’d take a swing. Or three.

Of course, he’d land on his face because I’d use my ninja-slaying powers to slice through his cocky ass attitude.

Courtesy of me being a trained assassin.

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