Page 64 of The Boss
I immediately pull away. I’m shocked Quinn lets me go.
I can see his eyes on me, as if he’s waiting to see what I’ll say or do next. But my face is burning crimson and it’s not the only location on my body that feels like it’s on fire. So I focus back on my messages and social media accounts.
Long before I’m ready, the car pulls to a stop.
“Time to go,” Quinn says to me. He reaches across and opens my door. Beside us another big black SUV is waiting, back door ajar.
“Wait,” I fumble as Mac reaches for the laptop bag in my grip. “Can I have my phone if it’s on airplane mode? I read books on there and—”
“Mancini,” Quinn glares, annoyed, “No way in hell you’re keeping your phone. I’ll buy you any paperback book you want, write a list. Now go home.”
I huff before climbing out. Before I’m all the way out of the cab, Quinn adds, “Give your list to Sheila. Tell her I said hello.”
Smug.
Asshole.
I don’t look back, don’t give him a reaction.
As if he wasn’t out of his mind about Vinny just an hour ago? Didn’t shoot up an actual coffee shop in a jealous rage? I mean, not thatIwas jealous about what I thought was happening with Sheila. This is about manipulation, not emotion.
I settle in the back of the second car and watch as Quinn’s vehicle pulls in front of us, then turns in the opposite direction. I glance around. There’s a bridge off in the distance with a tall building right beside it. I glance up at the sun and look at the car’s clock. Not sure where we are but I can find out. And from here Quinn headed south. Noted.
And.
I fight a smile as we merge onto the highway that leads out to Quinn’s estate.
Somewhere on his compound there is some wifi, and he doesn’t want me to find it.
But I think he knows the truth by now.
I will absolutely find it.
It’s only a matter of time and unfortunately, I’ve got nothing but that these days.
If my life has taught me anything it’s how to be one sneaky, tenacious,patientlittle bitch.
So, that’s what I’ll be.
CHAPTER 30
Quinn
“No,” I say. Seems like the only word I ever say to my little wife.
“Come on, don’t you have some…energy you need to release?” She asks, smirking. Pushing me to the edge with her perfect pouty mouth and that body wrapped in more black and gray, skin-tight, fighting clothes. Her eyes sparkle as she says, “Pretend I’m Vinny.”
I suppress a deep, growly sound from bubbling up out of my throat.
Vinny.
Mac, who is apparently holding what remains of my sanity in his hands, is the only reason that asswipe isn’t laid up in a hospital bed right now. I had two old timer thugs on their way to teach him a lesson about texting my wife. Mac intercepted the order and reminded me to kindly get a fucking grip. Vincenzo Baltoni is not even high ranking in the Italian mafia, didn’t even know she’d gotten married.
“Careful, Mancini,” I warn.
“You know he touched my boobs once. Probably told all his friends he’s felt up Skulls’ wife!”
“Luna!” I warn again, about to snap like a tired, sexually frustrated, mentally unstable rubber band.
