Page 432 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“I know. And it’s made me very fucking rich,” I say with a smirk.

“You can’t take it with you, Dante,” he says. “You also can’t do this forever. I want you to play a bigger role with the family businesses. We’re growing fast out here and I need you to be onboard with our direction.”

I let out a deep sigh and lean back against the lounge chair. “I like my life, Matteo. I miss it.”

“We have a lot of enemies, Dante. Someday, you’ll get a message with instructions for someone you need to ‘handle’ and that someone is going to be you.”

“Jesus, that’s morbid.”

Matteo shrugs. “It’s the way things go. Nobody gets away with murder forever. And you’ve fucked a lot of people over for your career. Unforgiving people. Vengeful people. And your sniper rifle will only get you so far.”

“It’s been a rough year,” I muse. “Can’t argue with that. But you can’t make me change who I am.”

“I think you’re full of shit. I see the way you are with Aisling. I think you want that yourself.”

“Pulling out the big guns now, huh? Why do I need my own kid when I have her?” I say with a snicker. “I get to give her back for the gross stuff.”

He sighs. “Look, all I’m saying is that it may be time to do something different. Find a different way to get your kicks.” His expression darkens. “And I’m not talking about Anya.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Don’t even think about laying another finger on her. I need you on top of your game.” Matteo’s gaze darkens. “Because those cameras picked up a lot more than just your fucking,” he growls.

CHAPTER18

ANYA

Istick my key card into the lock and pull open the door to the apartment later that afternoon, careful not to make any noise. Heaven mentioned something about going to lunch with her family once they get in from the airport, so I guess they haven’t gotten back yet. I took Aisling for a walk after her afternoon feeding, and she fell asleep almost as soon as the stroller hit the hot desert air.

I won’t lie.

I like people stopping to admire her chubby cheeks and big bright eyes. I like when they tell me what a beautiful daughter I have. I always thank them for the compliment, never once bothering to correct anyone.

It feels nice.

It allows me to step out of my own shell and be someone else…someone, much as I deny it to myself, that I aspire to become.

Over the past few days of being out here in Vegas, while I’ve been trying hard to conjure up all of the hatred for people who stole my happiness, I’ve realized that harboring all of the emotions is actually preventing me from achieving what it is I really want.

And the longer I suppress the negative emotions — the anger, the resentment, and the disdain — the further away I get from anything remotely resembling a happy ending.

The truth is, the more I get to know these people, the more I wonder about who they really are and what they actually have done.

If anything.

Uncle Boris wants me out here for some reason, but he won’t tell me exactly what it is. He’s being purposely evasive, which he knows I hate. He admitted to completely ignoring me for days on end because something else took priority over his own niece’s well-being.

All of that contributes to my redirected anger.

He doesn’t respect me enough to give me direction.

He never has.

I’m just expected to jump when he says how high.

Makes me think that I’m missing a lot of the dots that have yet to be connected and question everything he’s told me.

I should have started questioning a long time ago.

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