Page 15 of Scar

Allegra has only seen glimpses of my dark side; she has no idea what I am truly capable of. As she spends more time in this house, she'll understand my intention is to crush her piece by timid piece.

“You want to fuck around, Cara? Is that what you want?” My voice drips with venom as I lash out at her. Pushing off the desk, I close the distance between us with two swift strides until our faces are inches apart.

“I have the right to live my life.”

“Does that include fucking around?”

My hand strikes out without warning, gripping her cheeks tightly and causing her to scream in pain. She tries to claw at my hand but it's useless. Squeezing harder, I could easily break her jaw. Her eyes widen in terror as my hand slides down and wraps around her throat, almost lifting her off the ground. Suddenly, I spin her around until her back is against the desk and force her to lean over it painfully, looking up at me with fear in her eyes. Pressing a leg between hers, I push them apart and lean over her, crowding her space with my cold breath on her face.

“It seems like you didn't get the memo,” I hiss. “There is no balance between us. We are perfectly imbalanced, Cara.Which means I can do whatever the hell I want. And you can't do anything unless I order it. You can't live unless I allow it. You can't even breathe without my approval.”

I search her face for a reaction, hungry for a fight. But it seems like the fight has left her. Allegra brings out the darkness in me; I want nothing more than to squeeze the life out of her. She is my biggest thorn, but also an asset from the spoils of war. And I plan on using and abusing her until she shatters into a million pieces. Don Marone will die from fear of what I'll do to his daughter before old age takes him.

“You're a monster,” she slurs through her painful cheeks, barely audible.

“Yes, a monster who will stop at nothing to make your life a living hell.” I shove her head back towards the desk, letting go of her face as if it has scorched my skin.

“Let me be clear,” I reiterate. “Our marriage may just be a piece of paper to us, but I am the only man you will ever fuck.”

I surprise myself with the words that escape my mouth but regain my composure quickly and look at her with disgust.

Her eyes narrow at me, and she looks like she might lunge at any moment, but the look in my eyes holds her back. They dare her to make a move, and deep down she knows she isn't strong enough.

CHAPTER 14 – SCAR

The old wooden chair in my office creaks as I sit down, the weight of the day pressing heavily on my shoulders. I don’t miss the tension in the dimly lit room where my brothers gather. They’re scattered around my desk, each brooding in his own brand of misery. Brando's face is etched with concern, the bearer of bad news. Lucky’s usual cheeky attitude is replaced with a serious, grim expression, and Rafi, ever loyal, sits with his arms crossed, awaiting instructions. But they all have one thing in common: they’re all ready to burn the city down if need be to contain any threats to our family.

“I’m listening.”

I turn toward Brando, waiting for him to tell me what was so important that he had to drag me away from Allegra before I could take her over my knee and teach her a lesson. That’s the next step I might have to take toward taming her. Nothing else seems to be working.

His voice is tense as he scans my eyes with a sense of urgency. “Someone just hit the armory.” His voice cracks on the last word, and I know what’s coming before he even says it. Product can always be replaced-at a price. Good men cannot.

“How many?” I ask, my jaw locking back and forth in frustration.

We’ve taken hit after hit after my father died. The fact that Don Marone’s empire is now crumbling has also given competitors more incentive to take a shot at us. The unionbetween the Gattis and the Marones may have strengthened our forces, but with Don Marones dynasty in tatters, it’s only a matter of time before every wannabe gangster comes dancing out of the woodwork.

“We expected this,” Lucky reminds us.

Yes, we did. We expected in fighting. We expected attacks. It’s all part of the games we play in this world we live in. That’s what our line of work entails.

“How many?” I grit my teeth.

“Four.”

Brando’s eyes fall to the floor. He takes every death personally. And he always has a hard time dealing with the aftermath as grief becomes his furious bed mate.

“Who knows about the armory?” I ask, sitting back in my chair. My pensive gaze falls on each of my brothers in turn. No-one knows about the armory but us and the men hired to defend it. It’s a family stronghold and one of the best kept secrets in the underworld.

My brothers catch on to my line of thinking; this had to have been orchestrated by someone close to us. Unless one of our security team has developed a fondness for yapping.

“This has Luciani’s name written all over it,” Lucky says, stepping forward. “He’s been trying to muscle in on our turf for years; he thinks he’s finally found his opportunity.”

“What makes you say that?” I ask.

The Luciani family has been a thorn in our side for countless years. Another one of the big three families, we’ve co-existed side by side for decades, but the new crop has long lobbied for change. There are certain trades that the Gatti and Marone families won’t deal in. Trades that the Lucianis want to peddle. They’re growing increasingly unsettled as we try to hold them back from bringing unwanted product into our turf. Drugs, human trafficking, organ trafficking…all trades we don’t want inour backyard. All trades the Lucianis are hellbent on bringing to our front door.

“What’s the situation?” I ask, my voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

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