Page 25 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
“Now quiet down,” he says, pointing a finger at my face. “We’ve got a long drive, and I don’t want to have to gag you.”
“Fuck you!”
To my surprise, he chuckles. “You’ve got spirit. I can see why he likes you.”
“I’m not going back to Vegas.”
He doesn’t bother responding, just shuts the door and leaves me to stew in my own rage.
Four hours to Vegas. Four hours to plan exactly how I’m going to murder my so-called husband when I see him.
And if there’s a tiny, traitorous part of me that’s getting a thrill from this whole kidnapping scenario? Well, that’s between me and my therapist.
10
LORENZO
I’min the kitchen with Luca when the front door slams open, and the sound of my wife’s voice echoes through the house.
“Let go of me, you jackass!”
I can’t help but smile. Even pissed off and dragged back here against her will, Mia refuses to be cowed. It’s one of the things that drew me to her in the first place; that backbone, that determination to fight even when the odds are stacked against her.
“This is kidnapping, you know,” she continues, her voice bouncing around the foyer. “And I’m going to remember your face when I go to the police. The LAPD is going to bust your ass.”
Luca raises an eyebrow at me. “Your wife?”
“My wife,” I confirm, straightening my shoulders and schooling my expression into something appropriately disapproving. Can’t let her think I’m entertained by her defiance, even though every fiber of my being is practically humming with satisfaction that she’s back where she belongs.
I walk into the living room with Luca trailing behind me, and there she is. Standing in the middle of my space like she owns it, trying to wrench her arm free from Declan’s grip. She’s wearing a pink blouse tucked into high-waisted black pants that showcase every curve I’ve memorized, but my appreciation dies the second I notice her hands.
They’re tied together in front of her.
Rage floods my system like ice water.
“I’m inside the house,” Mia snaps at Declan. “You can let go of me now.”
Declan frowns down at her, and I catch something that sounds almost like admiration in his voice when he says, “You’ve proven yourself to be unpredictable and determined.”
The tight ball of jealousy that punches through my ribs is unprecedented. I’ve never been jealous in my life, never had reason to be. But I don’t want this man looking at my wife with anything resembling respect or interest.
“Let her go,” I command.
Declan drops his hands immediately. He knows better than to hesitate.
I scan Mia from head to toe, cataloging any sign of injury, and that’s when the rope really registers. The pressure marks. The tension in her shoulders.
“What the fuck is this?” I snarl, gesturing at her bound hands.
Declan starts to reach for her, but I’m already moving, crossing the room in three long strides. I don’t want him touching her atall. The urge to rip his throat out for putting marks on her skin is so strong I have to clench my jaw to keep from acting on it.
Mia glares at me even as I begin working at the knots. “I had to tie her hands together,” Declan explains from a safe distance. “She gave me no choice. She didn’t come willingly. She tried to attack me more than once while I was driving.”
I shoot him a look of pure disbelief, and he gestures to fresh scratches along the side of his neck. Evidence of my wife’s claws.
My head snaps back to Mia. She flinches at whatever she sees in my face.
“What the hell, Mia?”
