Page 24 of Savage Mafia King

His face pales when he sees me, but he soon covers it up with a smile. "You going to try something, Marcus?" he demands, shoving his face closer to mine. "I have guards watching from the hotel. You try anything, they'll take a shot before you can blink."

I glance up to the building behind him. I can't see inside the slightly tinted windows, but there's no doubt that they're well-placed for a sniper to pick me off in an instant. I take a step back from him, my hands shaking with anger.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I spit at him as he dusts himself off and straightens up.

He runs a hand through his thinning hair, pushing it to one side, and raises his eyebrows at me. "You already spoke to Giovanni, I suppose?"

"Yeah, I fucking did," I snarl. "And I want to know why you're working with the Castellanos against us. What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He pauses for a moment. My anger is clearly a little more than he expected to have to handle, but he doesn't let it throw him off.

"I'm protecting myself, Marcus," he replies. "And I suggest that you do the same."

"Protecting yourself from what?"

"You really don't know?"

I can't tell if he's fucking with me or not. This could all be an attempt to get me to spill more than I'm willing to. I clench my fists at my sides, wishing I could take a swing at him right then and there. But I can't get hurt—or worse. My family needs me, now more than ever.

He cocks his head to the side, looking me up and down. I hate the way he observes me, like he knows something I don't. He's just trying to get under my skin, but it's working. Seeing Giovanni hurt like that, it's a reminder of how vulnerable we are right now, of how many forces are out there working against us, whether I'm willing to admit it or not.

"Why do you think Isabella went out of her way to keep you occupied last night?"

I feel the blood drain from my face. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

He shrugs. "A girl like that, one of your enemies, suddenly working with you after all this time?" he remarks. "You don't think there's something wrong with that?"

"Tell me what the hell you mean, James, or—"

"Or what? You're going to hurt me?" He laughs. He seems utterly at ease right now, and it drives me crazy. I want to lunge for him, to hurt him, to make him pay for what he's done, but I can't risk it.

He tugs his jacket down, fixing one of the buttons that popped loose when I grabbed him. "You need to take a close look at that girl," he warns me. "And just why she's been keeping you busy with everything else that has been going on."

And with that, he brushes past me and heads to his car, slipping into it and pulling out of the parking lot.

I stand there for a moment, my mind reeling. Is it true? Could it be? Could Isabella be in on all of this somehow? It doesn't seem possible, but at the same time...

I need to talk to her. I need to make sure that she hasn't been using me as part of this game. With everything that's been going on, I feel like I can't trust anyone.

And she's a girl I've gone out of my way to distrust until I could make her an offer she couldn't refuse. But I'm not sure it's going to be that easy to trust her.

No matter how much I want it to be.

I climb into the car and take off toward campus, my mind racing.

Chapter Twelve—Isabella

As soon as I get out of class and see Marcus leaning against his car, waiting for me, I can tell something is seriously wrong.

His face is dark, his eyes shadowy, and he takes a moment to meet my gaze. I want to call out to him, but my voice catches in my throat. Something is warning me to keep my distance, and I'm tempted to just turn tail and run back into the lecture hall, pretending I've left something behind so he can't find me.

But I notice a few people looking between the two of us, and I know I have to see this through. I plaster a smile on my face as though I'm delighted to see him and make my way toward him. My legs feel a little shaky as I finally reach the spot opposite him, and he looks me up and down slowly.

"What's up?" I ask him, my voice higher than it normally is.

There are times when I remember just how dangerous this man is. I'm confronted with it, even if, for the most part, that danger is aimed at someone else. But now? Now I get the feeling I'm on the other end of his rage. And I'm not looking forward to seeing what it feels like.

"James," he spits at me. "You know that name?"

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