Page 52 of Married to the Mafia

Her jaw dropped. Holy fuck. There was no way. Indignation and fear slithered through her as Brandi recalled what Mikey had told her about the gang that had taken her car. The gang at war with the De Salvos. She latched on to the indignation. “Inconvenience? That’s what you call it? I drove into a trap, had a gun put to my head, got my purse rifled through and my money stolen, and was left to fend for myself in a part of Newark so well-loved even the cab companies I called for help chewed me out for being there. That’s not ‘inconvenient’, that’s—”

“Life,” Gustavo interrupted. “We didn’t lure you out to Hogue. You put yourself there. I’m not offering you restitution. I’m only extending an apology, take it or leave it.”

“You did it to yourself is a bullshit apology, asshole.”

Gustavo hummed. “It’s a good thing I didn’t have Cez pick you up. He doesn’t respond well to mouthy women.”

Brandi narrowed her eyes at the unsubtle threat. “Gee, I feel so grateful.” She rattled her hoisted wrist. “Oh, wait, that’s the bite of the handcuff. My bad. I’m getting so used to being roughed up these days it’s hard to tell.”

“Fiancé not treating you right?”

She would have kicked his seat if she were behind it. Which was probably why she wasn’t. “Mikey’s the only one who hasn’t mistreated me lately. Present company included.”

“I won’t deny handcuffing an unwilling woman to the backseat of my car constitutes mistreatment,” Gustavo said. “But if we can learn to get along, this can be the worst of your experience.”

“Get along? Are you out of your mind?” She probably should start being mindful of her sarcasm. There were some frightening implications in that statement.

“Let me get to the point, Ms. Richardson. The man you’re considering marrying is dangerous. He has enemies, enemies with influence, and sooner or later those enemies will come for you. You would be smart to extricate yourself while you have the chance.”

Brandi gaped at the back of Gustavo’s head. He really was out of his mind if that was his pitch.

“Of course,” Gustavo continued, “I’m sure you have your reasons for tying yourself to the De Salvo name. Whether it’s something to do with your father, for your own gain, or something else altogether. But consider how much more you could gain by playing a part in dismantling that power. They’ve already embraced you, and if you’re as smart as your record indicates, you probably found a way to signal for help while my associate was transporting you. This is your opportunity to have the best of both worlds, Ms. Richardson. Be your own woman, gain true freedom, and do the world a favor in the process.”

She kept staring, for several seconds too stunned to even snap back. Was there something about her face that said she looked like a rat?

Brandi dragged in a breath as the memory of her argument with her father from months before flashed through her mind. The day her father had essentially forced her to apply for the job opening at Mikey’s company. His words had been angrier, but in many ways similar.

“Fuck you,” she spat as the memory faded again. “I’m not some two-faced, backstabbing whore, and I am sick and fucking tired of being treated like one.”

“This is war, Ms. Richardson,” Gustavo said as if he had all the patience in the world. “Sometimes we’re tasked with roles we don’t like.”

“It’s real easy to talk all suave when you don’t have to even look at your victim, isn’t it?” Brandi said, her lips curling with each word. “Real big man, sitting in the driver’s seat, hasn’t lifted a damn finger. That’s what you are, Gus.”

She thought she saw his fingers flex over the steering wheel. Maybe her words were getting to him. She almost missed the way his gaze flicked over the rearview mirror, clearly looking behind them.

Traffic? Hope surged in her chest and Brandi twisted as best she could to see out the back window.

The car seemed to slow. “We’re going to let them pass,” Gustavo said. “This group seems to be in a hurry … don’t you think?” He drifted toward the shoulder as he spoke, offering plenty of room on the road for the trio of vehicles behind them to zip by.

The black SUV in front did exactly that. Brandi wanted so badly to scream and wave her arms like a madwoman, but there was no way passing motorists would be able to see her. Not at their speed, and not through the dark tint on the glass. She could only watch as the second car passed—and she nearly missed the moment its brake lights came on. The third vehicle, another SUV, swung sideways at about the same time as the car she was in came to a full stop.

“Well, fuck,” Gustavo said. The smooth tone of his voice slipped a little with the curse. He didn’t kill the engine, instead reaching for the dashboard and pressing a button.

Brandi twisted around again, angling to look out the windshield. The second car that had passed them had also stopped, and had also spun sideways, effectively pinning them in.

“You have five seconds to reconsider your decision, Ms. Richardson,” Gustavo said in warning as ringing filled the cab. “Don’t say anything else unless you decide to accept.”

Her mouth opened on reflex, but her gaze finally zeroed in on the dashboard display.

Boss

Her brow furrowed even as the line connected. Mikey hadn’t told her much in the way of detail about the Ink Blots, but she felt certain he’d told her enough she should be able to make use of this if she paid attention.

“Give me good news,” the voice named Boss boomed through the car’s speakers. There was an accent to his tone that was faintly European.

“Afraid I have the other kind, sir,” Gustavo said as he released his seatbelt. “I might be in a situation. Cristiano De Salvo just pinned me down.”

Brandi’s eyes snapped up to the windshield again and she saw a large figure striding up to the car she was stuck in. He wasn’t a man she knew well, and he hadn’t ever aimed that fierce scowl at her, but there was no mistaking his identity.

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