Page 26 of SINS & Lies

I hold out a hand his way. “A deranged psychopath who needs a car.”

Dante narrows his eyes. “Why can’t you use your car?”

“Because Uncle Andre has eyes all over Chicago, and I don’t need him stalking my every move.”

“What you need is a size fourteen Armani shoe up your ass if you so much as breathe wrong on my two-week-old Aston Martin.”

Smoke’s phone lights up, playing a music box version of “Here Comes the Bride,” and we all roll our eyes as he answers. “Give me one minute, gattina.” His voice is soft and gushy and so unlike him, I gag.

Smoke places the phone on mute and directs his next words straight at me. “Do not go to war. Do not get killed. And for fuck’s sake, don’t even think about letting Uncle Andre fist you up the ass until you’re his puppet. No pussy is worth that.”

“Says the man chasing his own golden pussy around like a whipped puppy,” I reply. Thanks for the visual, by the way.

Clearly unimpressed, he hardens his glare. “What you and your dick do with this girl or all the other women on the planet, I don’t care. If you’re late for my wedding, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Rest assured, my dick, along with the rest of me, will happily show up on time to hand your ass off,” I retort with a smirk.

Satisfied with my response, he downs the rest of his drink and takes off, apparently on call twenty-four seven for his young bride-to-be. Which I suspect is less about fucking her up a wall and more because she’s pregnant.

At least, I think she’s pregnant with how her tits have blown up like party balloons.

“I can’t believe he’s marrying her,” Dillon says, dumbfounded.

Mateo nods in agreement. “I always thought the only marriage he was heading for was with his right hand.” He mimes jerking off as we all snicker.

Sin interjects, his voice slicing through our laughter like a surgeon’s scalpel. “Now that Smoke’s gone, let’s hear more about you, Enzo. And this girl you’re fascinated with. Usually, when it comes to women, you have the attention span of a horny squirrel.”

“It must be serious,” Dante probes.

Once again, all eyes are on me, their curiosity inescapable. I know my brothers. Their questions become a relentless hydra. For each one I deflect, two spawn in its place.

They’re hungry for details about why I’m so hung up on a woman, and I’m grasping at those straws myself.

Why am I fascinated with Kennedy Luciano?

The hell if I know.

Just as Dante playfully waves the bat at me, a mock threat to talk, or else, my phone buzzes. Saved by the bell.

Relieved for a lifeline out of this hellhole before the Spanish inquisition begins, I glance at the screen.

Striker

We have him.

I smile. Thankfully for me, Smoke’s appetite for blood has waned. And I need to focus on absolutely anything but Bella and the thousand depraved ways I want to devour her.

I reply with a quick text and stand.

Enzo

On my way

I pocket my phone as my thirst for blood kicks in. “As much as I’d love to welcome you all into the dark corners of my mind, duty calls,” I say.

In a rush, I make my way to the door. I’m practically drooling like a werewolf eyeing a lone jogger after dusk. Anything to get away from this.

“Hot date?” Dante needles.

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