Page 98 of Iron Blade

Morelli groaned, as I nudged him with the brass knuckles.

The man was still in the same suit I had kidnapped him in, though it was unbuttoned and fraying from the beatings he’d received. I had to tell the guards not to break his bones - broken bones caused medical problems, and we didn’t need to increase the number of people that knew where we kept our little Italian friend.

“Well, Johnny,” I said with a smirk, using the Americanized version of his given name. “It seems you’ve been looking around my gallery a bit, have you?”

I walked around him, letting the echo of my loafers on the cement floor echo around the barren room.

Morelli blinked, as if trying to focus through his pain.

“Did you hurt Cosima?” he gasped out, his cracked and dry lips bleeding, sending a small trail down his chin.

“You seem quite close to your goddaughter, aren’t you?”

It was the worst kept secret in the Mafia that the young Durante girl had eyes for her Godfather. But none of our reports ever said that it was reciprocated.

“Just leave her alone, Eoghan.” If he had the strength to bristle after three days of hanging, he would have. “Her, and her little friend.”

I paused.

“What friend?” I asked, disingenuously, casually examining the knuckles in my hand.

“You know which one,” he gritted out. “The art dealer from the gallery…”

Ah, the Italians do love to make things personal, don’t they? The Durantes, and the Morellis, took the blood part of vendettas to heart, and ruled with their passion. That was why they were on their way out.

“Your little Goddaughter’s got a soft spot for my Kira, doesn’t she?”

Possessiveness gripped my heart. No one knew that we were married. At least no one outside this house did. And I wanted to declare it now, to let everyone know that she was mine, and no one else could make it their business to protect her.

The burden of protecting her rested on my shoulders and I’d be damned if I allowed them to take it away from me.

His blue eyes looked down at me with scorn and disgust.

“Just stay away from the girls, Eoghan—”

“You’re in no real position to bargain, tied up as you are,” I said, gesturing to his predicament. “Are you trying to tell me that you were looking into my gallery because of my Kira?”

“She’s not yours!” Morelli spat out. If he had any spit, he might have actually spat at me.

“She’s not yours either!” I wasn’t sure which woman we were talking about. Were we talking about Kira, or Cosima? I knew which woman belonged to me. “Neither of them are really your concern, are they, Godfather?”

I made a little chef’s kiss gesture, mocking the Italian Mafia movie with a poor impersonation of a Marlon Brando voice. “I will make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

I laughed, letting the bitterness of it travel through the air.

“Leave her alone,” he said, as snot ran down his upper lip, into his mouth. “Before she ends up just like your mother.”

I bristled, but barely contained the growing rage inside me. No one mentioned my mother. No one. They knew the fucking consequences.

“Would you like me to do to Cosima what they did to my Mum?” I was done playing nice with the little puppet. He knew he wasn’t getting out alive, and he had nothing to lose that he hadn’t already lost. “You see, sequestered as you are with my hospitality, I think I want you to be the first to know.”

I lifted up my left hand to show where a wedding band glinted on my ring finger.

“Right after I picked you up, I got myself married,” I chuckled. “Maybe I should have brought you to the church, since I didn’t know you and my wife were so close.”

My heart contracted again, thinking that she was close to anyone but me.

“Now, tell me, Morellli-” I reached up to grab his collar, dragging him down as far as his stretched arms would let him. I felt the shaking of his joints as they held on to keep his body intact. “Since it’s just us blokes here, gabbin’ about the hens. Why do you think it’s your job to protect my wife?”

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