Page 65 of Sinful Bargains

“This stays between us,” I said, gripping his shoulder, eyeing him. “You don’t let nobody put their hands on you or someone you love.” I broke the serious moment with a grin. “And I thought I told you ifanyonemesses with you, just tell ‘em you know Joey Romano, and they don’t want me to come straighten ‘em out.”

He let out a chuckle, which was all the satisfaction I needed.

“Now come on, let’s get back to this game so you can really mess with Giovanni’s head when you’re the nextJoe DiMaggio, sporting his crush on your arm because you’re the best damn baseball player on that team. And that’s why Mia asked you to take her to the dance, and not him. Is she pretty, by the way?”

Antonio flashed a smug grin and nodded.

I matched his expression. “That’s my boy!”

JOEY

Ihesitated at the door, my fingers tightening around the knob. I didn’t want to be here. But there was no avoiding Renee—not when she was waiting for me like a predator ready to pounce. I had managed to avoid her for days, but I knew I had to face her. She was curled up on the couch, legs crossed, a cigarette burning between her fingers. The moment I shut the door behind me, her eyes snapped to mine, burning with rage that matched my own.

“How lovely,” she sneered, exhaling smoke. “You’ve penciled me in between playing dad to a delinquent and fucking his mother.”

My jaw clenched. “Watch yourfuckingmouth. And stop trying to get inside Adriana’s head, putting on your best goddamn performance in front of Principal Clayton.”

Renee chuckled, shaking her head. She rose off the couch. “You know, I hate you. I didn’t know it was possible to hate someone like I hate you,” she said as she stood across from me.

I took a step closer, towering over her. “Then we’ve got something in common.”

She smirked. “There will be no better satisfaction than theday my father puts a bullet in your head for the way you’ve treated me.”

“A bullet in the head would be more pleasant than being held hostage by you,” I tested back. My hands curled into fists at my sides, every muscle in my body wound taut with rage. I hated this woman. Hated the way she twisted the knife in my back, how she reveled in my misery just to feel like she had some kind of power over me.

I couldn’t stand another second trapped in her presence. Not in this house, not in her life, not under Vincent’s fucking thumb. I didn’t give a damn what walking away meant for me—whether it was a death sentence or not. At this rate, I’d rather shine shoes on a street corner than stick around just to take Vincent’s spot.

“Renee, this is over.”

“You don’t get to tell me when something begins or ends,” she challenged. “My father?—”

“Fuck your father,” I snapped. “Him taking me out would be doing me a favor at this rate.”

“You think you have a say in this? A choice?” She chuckled.

“Of course not.” I leaned in. “But I’ve got nothing left to lose.” I spun on my heels, gripping the door and yanking it wide open.

“You’re going to regret this!” I heard her call out. But I slammed the door behind me.

I didn’t live by regrets. Regret was for men who thought they had a way out, for men who believed they could’ve made different choices and ended up somewhere better. I knew better. I’d done enough bad that if I let regret settle in, it would be a slow suicide—one I wasn’t willing to entertain.

But as I walked out that door, I became very aware that maybe, I’d regret telling her that Vincent would be doing me a favor if he took me out. That wasn’t just reckless—it was an invitation. And Vincent wasn’t the kind of man to turn down an invitation like that.

The thought settled in my gut like a lead weight as I climbedinto my car and started towardsThe Wise Guy. I needed a stiff drink. I parked and stepped out of the car, straightened my coat as I walked inside, already craving the burn of whiskey on my throat.

When I walked through, I took a seat at the bar across from Angela, who gave me a smile. She poured up a whiskey for me and slid it over. “How’s it going?” she asked me.

I chuckled, taking a long sip of my drink, letting the burn settle in my chest before setting the glass down. “I broke it off with Renee.”

Angela raised an eyebrow, leaning against the bar with a knowing smirk. “No shit? About time.”

I let out a breath, shaking my head. “Yeah, well, let’s see how long I live to talk about it.”

She snorted, pouring herself a drink and clinking her glass against mine. “Did you tell Adriana?”

“Jesus, I’m not that much of a desperatefuck, Angela.” I chuckled, shaking my head.

Angela arched an eyebrow, swirling the liquor in her glass. “Are you sure about that?” she teased.

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