Page 53 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

“I’m not risking Rosa. It’s not worth it. We’ll find some other way?—”

“No, we won’t.” Marco shakes his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

“Fuck,” I exhale, running my hands through my hair. “What do you suggest?”

“We double Rosa’s security for the time being. She barely has a month left at school, and after she’s done, we’ll keep her under close observation at the country house.”

“She’s not going to like it.”

“Of course, she’s not. She’s fifteen.” Marco chuckles. “She wants to spend all day going to the mall or wherever the fuck it is teenage girls do.”

“We need to act now, Marco. We only have one shot with Lorenzo, so the sooner he’s dealt with, the better.”

“I agree. But it’ll take meticulous planning if we want to ensure we’re successful.”

“Oh, we will be, little brother. Once I set my mind on something, I don’t stop until the job is done. Whatever the cost.”

Next morning, we drive back to Westchester.

I need to have this conversation with Rosa in person.

She’s not going to like the extra security, but I don’t fucking care.

When we arrive at the house, Rosa’s in the kitchen with Xander, who’s sipping an espresso as Rosa chats his ear off. It’s a comical scene to witness, a shaved-headed, tattooed giant of a man listening to my teenage sister talk about Taylor Swift.

At the sound of our footsteps, Xander gets to his feet, relief on his face.

“Hey, Xander. Mind giving us some privacy?” I go to the coffee machine and pour a cup.

Xander nods and leaves the kitchen.

“Don’t talk his ear off, Rosa. He’s working.”

She scoffs, pouring herself some juice.

“It’s weird when they just stand in the corner of the room watching me eat.”

“It’s what they’re paid to do.”

“Well, I enjoy chatting with them.”

“Not sure Xander would say the same,” Marco mutters, appearing at my side.

I hand the coffee pot to him and turn to face my sister.

The smile on her face drops as she looks at me.

“What is it now? I swear, the girls and I tidied up the media room after we watched the movie.”

“I’m sure you did.” I sip my coffee.

“Then why does your face look like that?”

“He always looks like that sis.” Marco chuckles, and I elbow him in the ribs.

He winks at me, moving to sit beside Rosa at the table, pulling her half-eaten plate of French toast toward him and tucking in.

“We need to talk. And you’re not going to like what I’m about to say.”

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