Page 13 of Mated into the Mob

I also didn’t let on that I’d stayed the night outside the door to the basement. I’d dragged couch cushions along with a blanket and a pillow onto the floor, hoping to hear him breathing or mumbling in his sleep. But the thick door thwarted even my shifter senses.

“That’s not fair. You can’t leave me wondering.” He grabbed my arm, and fuck, a current surged though my veins. We both fell back, my expression probably mirroring Tony’s one of confusion and awe.

Get it over with and mate him, my wolf sighed.

What I’d found out, and I didn’t have all the information yet, wasn’t something I could tell his son and run off.

Why not?My wolf was bored with the cat-and-mouse game.

“I don’t have the whole story.”

His eyes widened. “So you did have him killed.” He pummeled my chest, and I let him, his tiny fists smashing against me seemed like the punishment I deserved for not treating him like any other employee who’d fucked up. I longed to wrap my arms around him, letting him have his temper tantrum, before carrying him to bed and mating him.

My wolf said nothing. He’d never witnessed anyone treat me this way, not even my brothers when we were younger.

Grabbing his hands, I held them tight until he stilled, tears leaking from his eyes, sobs wracking his body. He sniffed, and I allowed him to pull out of my grasp.

“Why? My stepdad is a kind guy, but you took away the man who was a part of me, and you almost ruined my omega dad’s life and mine.”

“Sit.” My command left no room for refusal, and he slumped into an armchair, bringing both knees to his chin and wrapping his arms around them. I poured a glass of water and placed a box of tissues on the side table.

“Your father worked for my grandfather and father.”

“What?” Tony’s head shot up, and the water sloshed over his white robe. “I don’t believe you.”

“Emilio remembers him and so do some old-timers in my p… ummm, group.” I’d been going to say pack, but in the state Tony was in, he might not have noticed. I didn’t add that there was a photo of Anthony in my den, along with my dad, grandfather, and me as a young child. As soon as Tony showed me the pic, I recognized him.

“Why would I take your word?”

Ahhh, this human was so irritating I wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled.

“In my world, my word is law.”

“Oh yeah? Well, that’s not my world, and my father would never have worked for the mob extorting money from people.” He folded his arms and rested them on his knees.

“We don’t do that.” I waved my hand. “That is small-time stuff.”

I should have given up and left. Told Emilio where to find Tony and spent the rest of my life grieving for something that had been within arm’s reach but was untouchable.

“How old were you when he died?”

He shrugged. “A baby.”

“So you didn’t know him, but you’re convinced he wouldn’t have worked for my family.”

“My dad told me he was a good man.”

“My organization is full of good men.” There was a sliding scale of what “good” meant.

“Pfft. You siphon money from ordinary people who are too scared to speak up and import drugs that ruin lives.” He waved his hand in the air and sniffed.

We did none of that, but now wasn’t the time to lecture him on morals and our pack’s business, but I would leave him something to chew over. “Your father was part of the mafia, but I suspect he never told your omega dad.”

Tony lifted his head, his pale, tear-stained face staring at a spot on my chest.

“Why? Why would he work foryou?”

I hadn’t expected to break a guy’s heart, gutting his dreams about his dead father. That wasn’t part of the plan, though since last night, the plan had been torn, shredded, and stamped on. There was no freaking plan, and I hated uncertainty.

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