Page 64 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

I hold up a hand. “Stop,” I snarl. “I don’t want to hear it. Consider thatyourmessage, Alfie. Take care of the body.”

And without another word, I walk out of the room. A faint bleeping in the distance amplifies with each step I take. It must be some far-off alarm buried somewhere in the basement of the building. But by the time I reach my car, my ears are ringing from the blaring sounds going off in my head.

Adrenaline courses through me as I slide into the driver’s seat and turn on the ignition. I grip the steering wheel tight, shaking it with the same degree of violence I just displayed back at the building.

I maneuver the car out of the parking lot. With a rocketing pulse, I drive through the darkened streets of Manhattan back toward my town house.

For years, I’d controlled that rage, kept it buried deep because I knew the damage it could do if it was unleashed.

Tonight, I let it all out. I let my emotions command me in a way they never should again.

For the first time in years, I freed them.

All because of Heaven. No, not her. The plan I have. Because of the plan, and she’s an integral part of it.

But still…she drove it. The rage, the fury, the passion.

The emotion I let take control.

And before tonight, only I knew how dangerous that could be.

CHAPTER14

HEAVEN

The stage has been set, the contract signed, and my life sold.

I haven’t reached out to my father at all since the night of our sham engagement, even though he’s passed a few messages on to me through Matteo. I miss him, but no way can I speak to him. I’ll end up saying something I’ll regret because even after a week, the anger still festers deep in my gut.

There’s a very fine line between love and hate and right now, I don’t know where he falls.

I roll onto my side, letting out a deep sigh. I stare out the window at the sun peeking over the Manhattan skyline. The view’s amazing, but I don’t care.

I grab a pillow and press it over my head, groaning into it. It’s been a week since I’ve seen or spoken to my family, apart from Aunt Maura to arrange the transfer of my things to Matteo’s town house, and Patty, to see how he’s doing.

He was, of course, more concerned aboutmebecause he’s a good brother. He also feels hella guilty about his part in all of this. He believes that if he’d have been able to overtake those assholes who assaulted us in the park, Dad would have had more faith in us standing up against Dominguez and let me stay instead of marrying me off to Matteo.

I tried to convince him that it was way more than just us getting jumped, even though in the back of my mind I wonder the very same thing.

It doesn’t really matter now.

And then there’s Matteo.

We’ve been out a couple of times. We go to places to be seen together so that the entire underworld knows we’re really doing this and blissfully happy while we make our bullshit wedding arrangements. We traipse all over the place, Matteo always having an arm draped around me to sell the story. We peruse flowers, taste cakes, and visit venues, not that any of it will come to fruition.

I made it clear in my father’s office that first night that this wedding will be small. I’d like to not humiliate myself in front of a cast of thousands, thank you very much. The smaller the better, in my opinion. My family, his family, a few business associates.

Once we’re out of the limelight, he doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t make a move. And I’m grateful, even though every nerve ending stretches, waiting for the inevitable. And, dammit, I can’t shake the memory of that night in the club, when he touched me.

There’s heat in his gaze. And like it or not, it stirs something inside me, something that isn’t disgust, but a hunger for…I don’t know.

Not him.

I don’t like him.

I don’t trust him, but the man is hot, and women’s gazes devour him when we’re out. He works long hours, and he probably fucks whores when he’s not here.

The thought pisses me the hell off. After all, if I can’t get any, then why should he?

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