Page 19 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
I stiffen, unsure what to do. The knock probably wasn’t loud enough to be heard in Lorenzo’s office, especially since he’s on the phone. Should I answer it myself? It’s not like whoever it is came to see me.
No one knows I’m here.
Oh God, what’s wrong with me?No one knows I’m here!
I need to go get my phone and text Jill and Olivia. They need to know where I am just in case my crime boss husband decides to murder me or something.
I truly don’t think he would, but I bet that’s what all murder victims say right before they go somewhere alone with a killer.
If I end up being a statistic, I want my friends to be able to point the police in the right direction.
There’s no second knock, but as I head toward the stairs, curiosity gets the best of me. I walk slowly to the front door and look through the peephole. I don’t see anyone there. So I unlock the door and slowly open it.
Lorenzo has a security system, but he didn’t reset it when we arrived. Probably thinks he doesn’t need to with all his men watching the house. The system doesn’t go off as I stare down at the box left on the doorstep.
Just a plain cardboard box, seemingly harmless. I look around but don’t see anyone.
Strange.
I pick up the box and bring it inside. It’s small and lightweight, no label. It can only be for Lorenzo. It’s his house, after all, no matter how many times he calls it ours.
I set the box on a round table in the foyer, about to knock on Lorenzo’s office door, when he walks out. He’s undone the top button of his shirt, and it looks like he’s been running his hands through his hair. But he smiles when we make eye contact.
Then he notices the box.
“What’s that?”
I shrug. “There was a knock on the door, and it was just left there.”
His steps falter. His eyes widen.
“And you picked it up? Brought it inside?”
I didn’t think about whether it was a good idea to pick up the box, but now that I see his reaction, it occurs to me that it was incredibly stupid. He just told me about his enemies a couple hours ago. Was clear about the Bratva being a violent threat.
What if it had been a bomb?
The thought makes me feel lightheaded, and I sway on my feet. Lorenzo rushes to my side and steadies me with an arm around my waist.
“I-I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I wasn’t thinking.”
I want to defend myself by telling him that in my world, I don’t have to worry about threats around every corner. I’ve never had to be cautious of a delivery at the door. But it all seems like poor excuses in the face of possibly blowing up.
“I’m going to open it,” he says, and I’m not sure how to interpret the look he gives me.
I wait while he pulls out a pocketknife and cuts the box open. It only takes seconds, then he’s pulling open the flaps.
I peer inside, curious, and immediately regret it.
“Is that real?” I ask in a faint voice, staring at the severed hand in the box. I grip Lorenzo’s arm. “Lorenzo, tell me that’s not real.”
He quickly closes the flaps, but it’s too late. I already saw it. So much blood coating the hand. I shudder at the thought of someone not only cutting it off but placing it in a box like it’s a fucking gift.
Lorenzo takes my hand and squeezes it, even as he’s already pulling out his phone.
“Dario, get your brother and come to the house, now. Be on the lookout for trouble. Kozlov sent someone into my territory.”
He hangs up, and I stare at him in shock. The man I’m looking at right now is not the same one I’ve spent most of the day with. Not the handsome stranger from the wedding.
