Page 8 of Princess of the Mafia

Irritation prickled across my skin. Di Matteo wasn’t the type to force his sister, but something was off here. She stood in front of me, hands clutched, looking at the marble floor with interest. Yet it wasn’t innocence I was reading.

“I want to speak to her,” I said

“She’s right here,” he scoffed.

“Alone.”

An awkward silence followed before the bodyguard’s mouth spilled, “Not going to happen.”

Can’t even say I was surprised.

Di Matteo shot him a glare. Glad he could see that was out of place. “Everyone out,” Di Matteo said, and silently, one by one, they filed out. Nico touched my shoulder before walking out. Stefano came to a stand next to Di Matteo as the room emptied.

“You too,” Stefano said and he nodded to him. After a slight hesitation, he gave a nod to his sister and left with Stefano, closing the door softly behind us.

The room swam in stiff awkwardness. Annoyance rubbed the back of my neck.

“Sit.” I pointed to the chair Capizzi had vacated. His half-drunk Amaro sat on the table.

“I’d rather stand.”

Right. Not a timid bone to be found in this one.

“Suit yourself.” I leaned back in my chair with my ankle resting on my knee. I watched her as I took a slow sip of my whiskey. It burned my throat as anger swirled in my stomach. What a fucking waste of time. There was no way she had agreed to this marriage, and I wasn’t in the mood to put up with this drama.

“Why’d you agree to it?”

She shuffled with her feet but kept her gaze on the floor. If this was how she wanted to play it. I was reaching my limit of patience.

“So, what…? You’re fucking the bodyguard and want out of this arrangement?”

Her head shot up, and her gaze landed on me. Dark, almost black eyes met me. I used to have a thing for them.

“It’s not—”

I waved my hand to shut her off. “Don’t take me for a fool. I don’t care whether or not you’re a virgin. You still fucking him?” I asked her tightly.

She didn’t have to answer. The heat rushing to her face screamed yes. I didn’t like being played, and that was what was happening. They got me down from New York for a woman who wasn’t ever going to be mine. I didn’t want a loving wife but I didn’t want to have to worry about her opening her legs for every bodyguard of hers. I realized the hypocrisy of it when I fully intended to fuck outside the house. But this wasn’t a two-way street.

My drink sloshed onto the table as I thumped it down and stood up. I was done here. I pushed the chair out of the way and strode off, to be stopped. My glance fell to the sharp nailed hands grabbing my arm and then to her. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” I asked tightly.

“Please,” she pleaded. “We need this alliance.”

“Should have thought of that before you opened your legs to another man.” I swatted her hands off my arm.

“It can still happen.”

I laughed cruelly. I didn’t know what she thought of me, but I wasn’t fucking another man’s mistress. “Don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Just listen to me, please.” She dropped to her knees. Jesus. She was dramatic. “This is our only way out.”

The urge to leave her on her knees and walk out the door weighed heavy. Still, the curiosity in me made me utter the words “You have one minute.” Just like I wanted to be the fly on the wall mere minutes ago.

“I will never be a good wife to you.” No kidding. She rushed on at my impatience. “I’m not a virgin, and I’m with Luigi.”

“Yeah, what else is new?” I stalked off, but her next words stopped me with my hand on the door handle.

“Marry my sister.”

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