Page 7 of The Mob Boss' Pet

I raise my chin. “Stephania.”

“Stephania what?” He rolls his hand.

“Stephania Benzitto,” I say, and he doesn’t react. Why would he? I’m a nobody in a large city. “What’s yours?” Tit for tat, I suppose. The longer he glares at me, the more my insides shake. And unfortunately, fear triggers my boldness.

“Vincenzo Manetto,” he says.

Silence.

I recognize the name. I’ve heard it whispered in the café from time to time, and only remember it because of seeing the family name in the papers. The Manetto family isn’t small time. They have their hands in deep-rooted pockets. Politicians, police departments, I’ve even seen their name on the donation list at the hospital.

“You know me.” He slips his hands into the front pockets of his trousers. He’s probably never met someone who didn’t have some sort of reaction when he revealed his identity. I wish I could be the first.

“I’ve heard the name Manetto before,” I confirm. “I get why they didn’t want to take your guy—”

“Brother,” he interrupts me. “My little brother, Roberto.”

“Okay, I get why they didn’t want to take Roberto to the hospital. But he’s home now. If I treated him at the hospital, I’d have to report it, but I didn’t, so I’m not. But I do need to go. My shift already started.”

“The other man that was shot was my cousin,” he says and there’s a sadness in his tone.

“I’m sorry,” I say. The other man was already dead when I’d been dragged into the kitchen. I couldn’t have done anything to help him anyway. A headshot can’t be patched up with a sewing kit in a bakery.

“He was also our family physician,” he explains like it should mean something.

“I guess you’ll have to buy another doctor then. I’m sure someone on the board of directors can point you in the right direction.”

“No need.” He shrugs casually. “I already have one.”

My stomach drops with the way he says it.

“You,” he answers the question I didn’t ask.

“I’m not your family doctor. I work in the emergency room. I’ve just started, barely seasoned,” I explain quickly. “And I won’t do it.”

His lips press together. “You won’t stay willingly and see that my brother heals without complication?” He asks the clarifying question as though there’s a lot more riding on my answer than I understand.

“That’s right. I won’t stay. I can check on him in a few days, but I’m not staying here.” I roll my shoulders back. Animals aren’t the only species that feel looking bigger makes them stronger. Maybe I can scare him off still.

He takes the last two steps keeping us apart. I have to tilt my head back to keep looking into his dark brown eyes, but I refuse to step away. I’m not going to retreat.

“You sure you don’t want to change your answer?” His voice lowers, softer, almost raw sounding. It shoots a shiver through me, setting off alarms.

“I don’t,” I answer, crossing my arms over my chest. I brush against his chest as I move; he’s too close not to feel his warmth pressed against me now.

“Okay. Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” He takes one step back from me. Just when I think I’m going to get my way, I’m going to walk out of this house free, he bends low and swoops me off my feet.

I fall over his shoulder with a thump. My stomach lurches and my head spins. Before I can settle, he’s on the move.

“Stop it!” I yell, trying to buck myself off his shoulder. “Let me down!” I scream and smack my hands against his ass.

He doesn’t break stride.

I ball up my hands and start pummeling him while rolling my weight to the side.

“Knock it off!” he commands.

“No! Put me down!” I yell back at him, increasing my attempts to be free.

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