Page 17 of Mafia Princess

“Have I ever told you that I fucking love you?” I wrap my arm around her neck and squeeze her to me.

“I got you, boo.” She hugs me back before lifting her dress, pulling the silencer off the gun, and placing them both in her thigh holster. “Lucky for us, they don’t pat you down on entry.” Summer winks.

“I’m not even going to ask why you thought you needed that, but I’m so fucking thankful for you right now.” I grab her hand and we casually exit the restroom and head out the front like nothing sinister happened.

SEVEN

Milan

The limo sits idling outside The Russian Lady, its graphite contours highlighted by the vulgar red neon sign. I watch the two women out the front, huddled together and intoxicated, waiting for their cab ride home. Only unbeknownst to them, I canceled it as soon as it was booked. I wait impatiently for her to emerge from this hell hole, my intolerance for being kept lingering getting the better of me.

“I’ll be back,” I inform my driver as I step out of the vehicle.

The crisp air bites and I can only imagine how these underdressed women must be feeling standing out here in the cold. I stalk towards the entrance and set my eyes on the doorman, to hell with the fucking line, when my eyes lock with hers.

A look of sheer horror halts her in her tracks when she realizes her nightmare is staring back at her. Of course, her sidekick is attached to her, as always. Do these two ever do anything apart? I stand just outside the door and watch them approach.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Her rosebud of a mouth sneers at me.

“Rescuing you.”

She juts her chin out defiantly. “We don’t need rescuing.”

“I decide that. Get your friends and get in the car.”

“You can’t order me around.”

Summer stands gripping Maya tightly as though she’s afraid Maya might slap me.

“Care to take that bet?” I step closer and chuck Maya under her chin, forcing her to gaze up at me. I can’t help but stare at her dark eyes, ones full of anger and hatred. What leads such a beautiful woman to have such a hateful heart?

She glares daggers back at me. “I’ll take that bet and raise you.”

“Tell your friends to get in the fucking car before I make a scene and carry your ass in there myself,” I say icily.

Summer gets the hint and leaves Maya and me to our simmering crossfire, before collecting the other two women to lead them into the limo.

“Get in the fucking car, Maya.” I grit my teeth in frustration.

“No.” She crosses her arms and her nostrils flare in a way that tells me her temper is kicking up a notch.

I lean towards her, but she stands her ground. Our faces are mere inches apart. “The men you killed in there worked for my father. So, if you don’t get in that car with your friends right now, I will carry you and dump you in the trunk.”

She tries to hide the surprise in her eyes before reluctantly sauntering over to the car. Just before climbing in, she turns around to face me. “You can ride shotgun.” She flips me the finger, climbs in, and slams the door so hard the entire car shakes like it’s on hydraulics.

I take in a steadying breath to calm myself before killing the distance to the passenger door and grip the handle. What the fuck have I allowed myself to get involved in? Surely, the merging of our territories cannot be this important. This arrangement is going to kill one of us in the end.

The full moon’s glow drenches the horizon, and the lights of Hartford soon disappear behind us. The long drive back to Providence is noisy, like a bunch of cackling hens have taken up residence in the back of the car. I locked the divider screen as soon as I got in the front, so my future wife couldn’t close it, and because I like to be a bastard like that. I spend the whole hour and a half sending emails to my business partners and associates back in Montana. We left the tarmac as soon as we landed, not even departing the private jet. Hearing Maya was in Hartford had made my blood turn to ice. Knowing it’s just on the outer edge of both Russo and Capelli territory had me questioning the motives of her actions.

My questions were answered in spilled blood.

“Drop these three off at the Russo place,” I order my driver, Alfred, giving him a glance. He’s been employed by me for the last year and is probably the most loyal out of all my staff. He never questions anything and is happy to go along with what I ask. Just how I like people to be. Obedient.

I turn in my seat and lock eyes with Maya. She scowls at me as I survey the four of them. If Russo knew his little blond bombshell was out playing assassin tonight, I think he would most probably lock her up and throw away the key. My gaze finds hers again, only this time she gives me the finger. I don’t acknowledge her immature behavior and instead simply turn back around.

The driver pulls up outside the young Russo’s dorm room. Not one of them has spoken a word to me until now.

“Thanks for the lift home,” Summer’s voice fills the momentary silence.

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