Page 275 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

I remember running. Fast and hard.

To escape.

Almost like I knew what was going to happen…

I try to raise myself up to identify any other clues about where I might be, but my body is sluggish, my limbs lethargic. It isn’t cooperating at all with my frenzied mind. Gripping the sides of the leather cushion I’m sprawled out on, I push upward, a woozy feeling crashing over me. Bile rises in the back of my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut, praying for the nausea to pass. I swallow a few deep breaths and that seems to settle my stomach.

But then again, I still don’t know why I’m here in the first place or who brought me here.

That realization alone is enough to send my belly back into upheaval.

I shudder against the back of the couch, voices in the hallway getting louder, closer, and more heated.

My ears prick up at their words. They obviously must think I’m still asleep.

One of the voices sounds vaguely familiar, although I can’t imagine how I’d know it.

I struggle to hear more.

“…meeting…Sal called…be here in an hour…kill them both…”

I let out a little gasp, fear clutching me. Kill who?

Me?

I try to swing my legs around the side of the couch where I’m lying, but they barely graze the floor. I have to try harder. If they don’t know I’m awake, there’s a chance I can get away. True, I have no clue where they’ve taken me, but a chance is a chance and I have to take it.

When I press my feet into the hardwood, my ankles buckle and I fall forward onto my knees, crashing onto the floor. I swallow a scream because the impact hurt like a bitch. My hands fall next to me on the floor and I crawl toward the door, listening against it for any indication that someone is still out there.

Silence.

It’s golden in this case.

Dizziness assaults my mind, but I fight through it, knowing the opportunity will pass if I don’t take it.

I reach up and twist the knob ever so gently, pulling open the door. It’s heavy and I have barely any strength, so I grit my teeth while I work it. I only need a sliver of space to slip through. I puff and pant to create my escape, my heart thumping harder and faster with each passing second. I shimmy through the space, face planting onto the carpet in the hallway and gasping for air after all of the work I’ve just made my body do.

“You need something? You could’ve just yelled for us.”

I yelp at the voice, rolling onto my side to catch a glimpse of one of my kidnappers, when my heart damn-near stops.

“You?” I croak, my pulse throbbing against my neck. “What the hell is going on, Joe? You just…you just…you kissed me!”

He drops to his knees next to me. “I told you I have a knack of showing up when people least expect me. And my real name isn’t Joe.”

“Then who are you? Tell me your name,” I rasp, barely able to speak. My head is heavy, my mind thick with cobwebs.

He stares at me with those piercing eyes, and even in my thick fog, the familiarity takes hold again. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

“Sorry, I’m a little woozy right now,” I snip. “After all, I was fucking drugged and kidnapped!”

He lowers himself next to me, staring intently as I try to focus. “Even after that kiss,” he hisses. “You still don’t know?”

My pulse throbs against my throat and I desperately try to focus. Who the hell would do this to me? Is he someone my father screwed over? Someone Frankie messed with? What the hell doIhave to do with any of that?

“Your father tried to crush my family back in Sicily,” he growls. “And now your brother is trying to do the same to me.”

“Oh my God…Roman?” I choke out the name, a mix of fear, anger, and lust clutching me tight. “Roman Villani,” I repeat in a strangled whisper. “You fucking asshole! How dare you come anywhere near me! You ruined me. You and your family ruined everything!”

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