Page 20 of Savage Mafia King

As Martha gives me a quick hug and heads off to her class, I shoot a text to my brother. After what happened at the restaurant with the cops the other day, I can't help but wonder if that might be where I know the name from. I usually leave it to my brother to handle all of that, but right now, I can't take my foot off the pedal that easily. I ask for a list of his current employees, and a few minutes later, he sends me back a screenshot of a recent pay sheet.

I tilt my phone screen to make sure nobody can see it as I take a seat on one of the stone benches in the center of the quad and peer through the list of names in front of me.

Come on, come on, there has to be something...

And then, it clicks. Castellano—it's one of the names on the long list of staff. My heart flips in my chest. Is he the one who's been working against us? Is he the one who's been exposing the truth about what's going on between Marcus and me? It's way too much of a coincidence that his name should come up in connection with this campus gossip about us and it would turn up on this list of employees at the restaurant. Something's going on here, I'm sure of it.

I call a cab and hurry back to Marcus's place, intent on sharing everything I've just found out. It's almost a little ironic to me, how quickly I'm willing to trust him, how easy it is for me to believe that he's on my side despite everything that has happened between our families over the years. He might have been the last person I wanted to put my faith in just a couple of months ago, but things change, right?

When I reach his apartment, I hesitate outside the door. I still don't know if I can entirely trust this man. I want to believe I can, of course. I want to put my faith in him because if I don't put my faith in someone, everything is going to fall apart. Things have been so crazy with my brother, with the raid on the restaurant, with the O'Tooles, all of it. But Marcus has been there in the middle of it. He might not always have trusted me, but I don't care right now. God knows he's had reason to doubt me.

I gather up my courage and press the button to alert Marcus to my presence. He buzzes me up a moment later, and I take the stairs two at a time, my heart thudding in my chest as I try to make sense of the information I've just come across. I don't know if it really means anything or if I'm just being paranoid about the way this is all unfolding, but Marcus will be able to help me make sense of it.

And the moment I reach the door, I find that he's already standing there, waiting for me. His jaw is set tight, and there are dark rings around his eyes that speak to how hard he's been working to get to the bottom of this.

I take a deep breath, and finally, I speak. "Do you know who Nico Castellano is?"

And as soon as I say that name, his eyes widen with recognition.Shit.This might be even more complicated than I thought.

Chapter Nine—Marcus

"You're sure that was the name the girls on campus gave you?"

She nods as I pace back and forth in front of her, trying to wrap my head around everything that has just happened. When I woke up that morning and found her missing from the bed next to me, I assumed the worst. But with a text from her waiting on my phone, I was able to soothe myself with the knowledge that she just headed out to campus to continue her studies. I probably should have been focused on the same thing, but after what happened, college is the last thing on my mind.

And now, she walks in here, saying the name of one of the guys who works at my gambling nights, one of the very same guys who was on duty when we went out together, actually. It's fucked up. Is he involved in this, somehow? Was he the person who caused the cash to turn up short?

"Yeah, I'm sure it was him," she replies. "And my brother texted me a list of people who work at the restaurant. His name was among them. There's no denying it. He's been working for my family, and he knows more about us than he should."

I shake my head. "I don't get it," I mutter. "Why would he be so interested in us?"

"He's working for both our families," she points out. "And he knows that I stayed the night here last night. He got to campus early enough to spread the news about it to anyone who would listen. We need to be careful. He could be watching us right now."

I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up at the thought. It's not so much him invading my privacy that bothers me so much, no. It's the thought that he might be watching her. I feel a swell of possessiveness take control of me at the mere notion of another man laying eyes on her. She belongs to me. Well and truly. And I'm not going to let anyone get close to her.

"I'm going to get guards on the doors, 24/7. Anyone coming, anyone going, we're going to know about it, alright?"

She gazes up at me. I can tell she wants to believe me, but there's a part of her that doubts me. So I need to prove myself to her, to leave no shadow of a doubt in her mind about what I'm capable of and how far I'll go to make sure she gets what she needs.

I pull her into my arms and press my face into her neck, breathing in the scent of her. I want to lose myself here, just for a moment. I want to forget about everything else that has been going on, forget about the tension and fear and questions that won't stop running through our minds and focus on us, for a moment.

Her hands slide up my back, and she pulls me close. I close my eyes as she speaks softly.

"I thought all of this was supposed to be fake."

I pull back. "Is it fake? To you?"

She pauses for a moment, then shakes her head. "No," she whispers. "It's not... it's not fake. What happened yesterday, I couldn't have faked that, Marcus. Sleeping next to you, it's the safest I've felt in a long time, and I..." She trails off.

I brush a strand of hair away from her face, silently urging her to go on. "And?"

"And I want more," she confesses, finally meeting my gaze. "I want... I want you. All of you."

That's all I need to hear. I sink my mouth against hers, wrapping my arms around her tight, squeezing her near to me and letting myself get lost to the desire that I denied myself yesterday. As she moans against my mouth, her tongue meeting mine, I can already feel my cock starting to swell.

She brushes her fingers down to the top of my pants, and I draw in a sharp breath. I can see her chest rising and falling quickly as she takes in the sight of my cock pressed against my pants, the outline of my hardness obvious.

"I wanted to wake you up this morning," she admits, trailing her finger along the length of me through my pants. I groan, even that bare touch enough to turn me on.

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