Page 88 of Merciful Lies

Cause I am happy, I realize.

It’s an alien feeling.

A strange one, but I want it.

I crave it.

I need it.

This young woman has big plans to oust her father’s old world regime. I have to say, I’m shocked, but not surprised.

A lot of old time mafiosos are having difficulty coming to terms with this new world we live in. Margaret O’Doyle wants to take her family into the 21st Century. And I approve.

It only takes me ten seconds to convince her she doesn’t need to offer to spread her legs to do that. Relief shows on her face, and I’m glad.

She’s pretty. But she’s a baby. And I’m spoken for.

So, I offer a different deal. She gets rid of her father however she wants, tells me what she knows about Sanchez, and I will grant her the protection of the Vipers.

Plus, I’ll open the gates back up.

The O’Doyle’s make most of their bread running guns, but without access to the ports, that dries up their business.

I’m just summarizing our deal when I feel the hair on the back of my neck tingle. Margaret’s eyes flick behind me and I turn.

At first, I can’t tell what I’m looking at.

I mean, it’s Anna.

I know it’s Anna.

But holy fucking shit.

Where the hell did she get that outfit? It’s not that I want her to change. I don’t.

I just don’t want her here wearing that.

Don’t get me wrong, my wife is always beautiful.

But tonight she’s all glitter and gauze.

She’s a knockout.

I want to shout at everyone to leave the Den. I want to gut every motherfucker with eyes who can see her like this.

All that soft skin on display, all her sweet curves and delicious valleys, those are mine. And I am a greedy, jealous prick.

She belongs to me and me alone.

My little Rosebud is all wrapped up like a present in a flirty little dress that shows way too much of her gorgeous tits and those thick, tanned legs I’ve been dreaming of having wrapped around me.

I’ll blame my slowness on the fact all my oxygenated blood has just rushed to my straining cock. That’s why I don’t register her anger and her hurt. Not before it’s almost too late.

Anna turns her back on me, and it’s like a punch to the stomach. I can’t breathe. She’s walking away. I can’t move.

Then she’s running, and so am I.

She’s going downstairs, and I wonder if she means to go to my office. But then I know she’s heading for the alley where I keep my cars waiting.

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