Page 4 of Claimed By The Mafia Prince

Once the guard is gone, she turns back to me. “Tell me everything, matter of fact, reenact it!”

I cover my head in embarrassment, “G, this is so wrong. Father will kill me. Daniel will kill me.”

“Well was it just a kiss, or something more?” Gianna wiggles her eyebrows at me hoping for something more, and even though my body comes alive thinking about him touching me again, I shake my head.

“Nothing more, just a kiss.” For both of our sakes, it better be just a kiss.

1

XANDER

“I don’t know who wronged you, Don,” Toni pleads.

Lorenzo, Father’s right hand sits to his left, his glass still half full. Lorenzo has thick, slicked back black hair, thin glasses, and a crisp, clean button-up rolled to his elbows.

Beside him and next in rank is Marco. Marco has graying hair at his temples and is the only one to smile at Toni as if he isn’t bleeding to death. He nods and pushes an empty glass towards me.

I pour my own drink, sitting next to Toni, a bald, short man, who is toothless, gripping the arms of the chair he’s in. “Xander, you know Toni.”

I pour myself a shot of whiskey and glance in his direction with a slight nod. “Toni here is going to tell us a secret, aren’t you, Toni?” A knife glides along Lorenzo’s knuckles and it’s only then I notice the blood on Toni’s shirt.

I train my eyes on the men and watch them watch me swallow down the drink and though my chest burns, I keep the grimace off my face.

“Shame to lie, Toni. You know we know, don’t we know, Xander?”

I agree despite knowing nothing of the situation. “We know Toni. Be honest; death will be quicker.”

“I don’t know his name, padre. I’m sure.”

“You hear that, Don? He begs you for mercy.” Lorenzo throws the knife into Toni’s shoulder, and he screams uncontrollably. I pour myself another shot, unable to look in the direction of the wailing man.

“Mercy, such an idiotic last request.” Father looks me over before downing another glass. “Maybe I’ll let Xander kill you, Toni. It’ll take him a minute. He’ll miss an artery, or two. You know he can’t aim for shit.”

I grimace as Toni begins to sob. “Don, please I have told you all I know.”

“It’s a pity you know nothing.” The next knife flies across the room into Toni’s throat. We all sip whiskey until he chokes out his last breath, then Marco breaks the silence.

“Amory Corp. treating you well?” His eyes are gleaming with the curiosity that only the underworld breeds.

Every member of the Emory family cuts their teeth at the corporation, which is the barely legal family enterprise. It cleans our money and still manages to make less money in a month than we could make in a day in the streets. “It’s running perfectly smooth, Marco, but I’d much rather prefer your job.”

“Ha. The last man you were supposed to kill ratted to the cops.”

I glare at him, but he’s not wrong. I didn’t make sure my target was dead. Rookie mistake. It cost three members of the Mafia thirty years in prison. They still have 28 to go, 22 with good behavior.

“Well, your father thinks it’s time for a redo."

Carlo Vitale emerges from his corner of the room. While he is the enforcer, he also happens to be the oldest man in the room apart from Father. His eyes are sharp and shrewd, and he’s staring at me like a hawk circling innocent chicks below.

“What?”

“Your time to be Don is fast approaching.” Father stands walking over to my chair. I shift looking over his drunken frame. “You were smart in the Sedric meeting, maybe you’ll be smart again.”

I smirk, sipping my whiskey. “The mole, Don. What do we do?” Marco queries as he lights a cigar and passes it to Carlo.

“I could handle it in a day. Send a message,” Carlo barks.

“No, we need more than a message. Obviously someone smells weakness, and we have to show the Famiglia’s strength.” Marco pounds the table, but Father silences them all with a flick of his wrist.

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