Page 49 of Scorned Obsession

He turned away from us. Sloane hurriedly buttoned up her coveralls and rushed alongside him while being briefed. Maybe margarita night hadn’t been such a good idea.

More men poured into the house, all chatty and boisterous.

Well, hell, maybe it was just the right idea, especially when working for the mob.

I clasped Divina’s hand and tugged her along. “Come on. Make a note that we need to stock up on medical supplies.” Probably have enough to do minor surgery. I thought about Renz again.

Everyone congregated in the study and it was chaos. Probably because a man was shouting.

Some were laughing.

What the fuck?

“Ugh, that son of a bitch!” he yelled. “That double-crossing son of a bitch.”

Someone chortled, “Good thing he didn’t get you in the ass, Al.”

“Fuck you, Arnie.”

Al and Arnie? The Scavo brothers. Tommy and Griselda’s uncles and the ones who had a scuffle with Ivy last year. My marriage ceremony to Sandro was still a blur, but I remembered them in the front row.

“Look who’s here…baby De Lucci.” Gian walked up to us, but before he got to within a foot of me, Sandro appeared and shoved at him.

“That’s Mrs. Rossi to you.”

I quickly scanned my husband and the relief was immediate. He didn’t appear to be bleeding. He was in all black, but he wasn’t tracking blood.

I steeled my spine in case Sandro asked me and Divina to leave, but his attention was on Gian.

“Look at you,” Gian sneered.

“Look at me, what?” Sandro got in his face. “Your faulty intel almost got us killed.”

“What’s the matter, Sandro? Can’t take a little heat?”

What I’d learned dealing with older brothers and the mafia was not to get in between their egos. But my role as Sandro’s wife became clear. Like a beacon, it signaled me what to do. Or what I wanted to do.

I pushed through the crowd of Rossi soldiers.

Sloane was looking over Al. He was lying on his chest across the desk. He was the lankier and taller between the two brothers. But the way I identified them was through their hair. I wasn’t sure who was older but Al’s hair was black, while Arnie’s was gray.

Papers and books were strewn over the floor like they’d been shoved off the desk to make room for Al.

“What do you need?” I asked her.

“I need my kit. It’s in the van, but I might not have enough gauze.”

“We have medical supplies in the bunkhouse,” Sticks piped in.

Sloane handed Divina her keys. “Get the kit. You know what it looks like.”

“I’ll go with you,” I told Divina.

Sandro gripped my arm. “I need to talk to you. Let Divina handle it. Sticks, get your stash in the bunkhouse.”

“On it, boss.”

Sloane walked past us. “I need to wash my hands.”

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