Page 32 of Betraying the Mafia Boss

“Elio.” She swallows. “It’s a private number, but his name is written at the bottom of the text.”

My heart quickens, anxiety knotting in my stomach. “What did he say?”

She reads the message aloud, "Isabella, you seem to have company. Too bad. We need to talk right now and it cannot wait.”

Panic engulfs me. “What does he mean we need to talk right now?” I grab the phone from Naomi and my eyes widen as I read the text. “Does he mean…is he watching me right now?”

The doorbell rings and my whole body begins to tremble.

“I’ll get the door.” Naomi begins to leave before I call her back. I can’t let her open the door. It’s impossible, but there’s a chance it could be Elio outside that door and I can’t risk her getting involved with him.

I hurry over to her and grab her wrist. “I’ll get the door. Don’t come out no matter what happens.”

“If it’s who I think it is, then I can’t let you face him alone,” Naomi argues. “What if he hurts you?”

“He won’t hurt me.” I tighten my hand around hers. “But he’ll hurt you if he feels you’re a threat to him.”

She nods reluctantly. “Can I at least call the police if anything happens?”

“No. No cops. Most of them work for him anyway.” My legs shake as I walk through the living room and swing the door open.

“Ciao, ragazza,” greets me from outside. My heart gallops in my chest, my blood freezing. I recognize that voice and…his face comes to view.

Elio Valentes.

There are seven men in black suits outside my door, but I can tell which of them is him. He’s tall and wickedly handsome, his Italian features dashing and more conspicuous than his American features. He’s tall, with dark eyes and curly hair that falls over his face.

The scar crossing over one of his eyes catches my attention. It’s bold and makes him even more scary, even more monstrous than I imagined.

I instinctively step back as he and his men enter and shut the door behind them.

Elio takes a moment to look around, a dark smirk on his face.

I inhale, trying to muster words, courage, anything I can get. “What do you want?”

“I told you before, didn’t I? I’m the only one allowed to ask questions.” He sits on one of the couches and gestures for me to sit as well, as if he owns the place and I’m the uninvited guest. “I see you’re doing a good job with Vincent, given that the boy who can’t control his cock is inviting you out on dates.”

Despite myself, despite my fear, I’m able to put on a bold mask. If Elio finds out how afraid of him I am, he’ll milk it even more. “How long have you been stalking me?”

“I haven’t, but my men have.” He glances up at the bodyguards surrounding him with a smug smile. “They needed to keep you in check, make sure you’re not trying to betray me. You don’t have any problems with that, do you?”

I shove my sweaty, cold hands into the oversized tee I’m wearing. “You have my Nana, I’d never betray you.”

He sits forward, propping his head on his hand. “Trust? My Uncle trusted me and guess where he is? Dead. Trust doesn’t exist in my world.”

I’m really close to losing my self-control and telling him I’m not a pig like him who would betray someone, but I’m betraying Vincent. I’m not that different from Elio himself.

“You have my Nana, she’s all that matters to me and I won’t betray you as long as she’s in your care.” I sniffle, fighting back hot tears. “But how do I know you’ll really let her go after all of this is over?”

He chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming with vile amusement. “There’s no way for you to know, ragazza. You’ll have to take my word for it, though if I’m to be honest, whether you and your Nana make it out alive, depends on my mood when all of this is over.”

I wouldn’t put it past a man like Elio to kill us both after he’s gotten his way, but he’s right, I won’t know. All I can do is blindly trust him.

My hands ball into fists. I want to drive a knife through his good eye and watch him bleed and I don’t know how, but I’ll do that if he so much as hurts a strand of hair on my Nana.

I don’t realize I’m glaring at him until he asks, “Do you hate me? Do you feel all of this is unfair to you?”

“Don’t I have the right to feel that way?”

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