Page 7 of Mated into the Mob

But we can’t mate him. It’s not allowed.

Tony clamped his mouth shut and held out his hands. I attached the handcuffs to his wrists, while noting the soft skin on his inner arm. With anyone else, on another day, another time, I’d have shoved him in the car and fucked him.

But while my wolf clamored to claim him, the Alpha in me, the boss who’d sworn in blood that anyone who defied me would suffer, was fighting against my beast, my heart, and the pack rules.

After attaching the handcuffs to the armrest, I slammed the door and got in the driver’s seat. I preferred to drive myself rather than hiring a driver. More dangerous than if I was sitting in the back seat? Didn’t really matter. Perhaps I was tempting fate. Grandpa and Papa were both murdered in their cars.

The alley was quiet, as it usually was late at night. I glanced at one of the security cameras, knowing Emilio was either looking at me, or if not, would have the CCTV officer rewind the tape in a few minutes.

He’d wonder why I was taking the kid away when he could have handled it, and I’d have to figure that out. Tomorrow. A quick glance at my companion and I reversed out and roared along the narrow space and onto the street.

We didn’t speak during the journey. His scent was taunting me, and luckily it was late and there were few cars on the road. I gripped the steering wheel, wishing I could do what? Turn back time? Tell Emilio to rough him up before tossing him out?

“Who you working for?” I turned off the highway and headed for my country estate.

He snorted, and I slammed a hand on the wheel. What was with this guy? He was mocking me.

“You! I work for you!”

Taking a deep breath, I stared straight ahead, the car’s headlights picking out tall red oak trees and deer feeding in the undergrowth. On any other day or night, my beast would have been urging me to stop and let him hunt. He was close to the surface, just under my skin, and his squirming rippled over my body as he banged against my skeleton.

“You pretend to work for me. Who told you to sneak into Arnie’s office?” I flicked on the turn signal even though we were the only car on the road. My grandpa had instilled in me to always obey the road rules so cops had no reason to pull me over.

“Nope. I’m a student, doing a Master’s Degree, and I needed a job. I have student loans.” He tugged at the cuffs and winced. He’d probably rubbed off the skin. Served him right for being mouthy. But I pictured myself bathing his hands in warm water and patting them dry before applying ointment to soothe his wounds.

He twisted his body toward me. “I have a question for you. Do you know the name Antonio Oakes?”

5

TONY

“Is that you?”

“No.”

The boss was taking me somewhere outside the city to dispose of me, yet another emotion mingled with the fear, and I felt strangely alive in his presence. Considering I was about to be dead and mangled, maybe it was me having one last hurrah.

My body tingled, something it did when I was anticipating something positive. Being knocked off by a mobster didn’t fit that category. And sitting in the confined space with that scent, it was overwhelming, like nothing I’d encountered previously. I wanted to sniff him as I did to his coat.

I tugged on the cuffs a few times, and my wrists were red and sore. They must be too small, he should have bought a bigger size. I pondered why he had a pair of cuffs in the car, but maybe it was what every mobster needed? In his office, kitchen, the nightstand?

I could see the TV ad now. “Never be without your handcuffs! Wherever you are, they’ll be there too. Your perfect companion!”

Some people got dizzy with expectation or desire. I was blocking out what was to come, and I was damned giddy, a giggleon my lips. I’d crash and burn soon enough after the adrenaline spiked and fell.

How had I gotten to this moment, being taken into the woods by a mob boss, orthemob boss if the rumors were true.

It had started out with me wanting to discover more about my birth dad. Other than the name Antonio—legally, mine was also Antonio, but I’d always been called Tony—I had nothing of his, because when my omega father married again, his new husband adopted me. Not that I was complaining.

Derek was a nice guy and a faithful husband, but I was kind of an afterthought. They loved me, but they preferred their life when I wasn’t around. The not-so-subtle sighs when I needed help with homework, the “Oh, someone has to take you to the dentist,” and “Can’t you play with your friends? We’re tired,” alerted me I was a burden. The best memories from my childhood were when we had a dance-off.

And while I always knew Derek wasn’t my birth dad, I’d been content with the tidbits Evan, my omega father, gave me about Antonio, plus the one photo of him in my bedroom.

“Who is it?”

His question brought me back to the present. I hadn’t planned for this, but I may as well blurt it out. “My father.” I clarified, “Birth father.”

He turned onto a small road, and I tensed, my calm mood evaporating. We’d traveled from city street to highway to rural road to private, according to the “Trespassers will be prosecuted” signs. The road narrowed like my options.

---